Defending the Reaper: A Standalone Steamy Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romances Book 5)

by G. K. Brady

  All alone. Great. Now what?

  Smoothing his beard, Dave ambled over to an armchair. When the commercials gave way to a hockey game, he sat down gingerly. Ten minutes, and I’m out. “Who’s playing?”

  Nelson side-eyed him and frowned.

  Dave slapped himself on the forehead. “Stupid question. It’s right there. Montreal and Tampa Bay. Whoa! And Tampa Bay is smoking them.” Did he really sound as ridiculous as he thought he did? He could feel Nelson’s eyes on him, and he glanced over at him. “How’s the jaw?”

  Some muffled noises Dave interpreted as, “Hurts like hell.” Beside Nelson on a side table stood a half-full cup with a straw. “Need a refill of whatever that is?” Dave offered.

  Nelson shook his head, then jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the mini fridge. Dave didn’t know if he wanted to stay long enough to drink anything, but he was twitchy, and raiding the mini fridge was something to do. The sucker was well-stocked, and he bypassed the beer and canned cocktails to pluck out a water.

  Behind him, Nelson grunted loudly and slapped the leather seat beside him. What the hell is going on? Dave turned in time to see a Tampa Bay player score a mind-bending between-the-legs goal.

  “Shit! How did he do that?” Dave laughed as he dropped back into the seat and unscrewed the water. They watched the replays showing the goal from every possible angle. “Unbelievable! That’s even prettier than the one Hads scored against LA.”

  Nelson grunted agreement, his mouth tipping up at the corners.

  They watched the rest of the game together, with Dave providing sparse commentary which Nelson answered with grunts and barely understandable words. Occasionally, Nelson texted him when he had an important point to get across, like the turnover that led to a goal or a diving call the ref missed. A few hours passed before Dave realized how late it was.

  “Shit. I should go.” He rose from his seat and looked at Nelson. “Take care of yourself and feel better, buddy. We need you back on the ice.” The words simply slipped out of his mouth as natural as you please. After a beat, he added, “I hope it’s okay if I stop by to check on you, see how you’re doing, see if you or Lily need anything.”

  Nelson gave him a slow nod and blink, then picked up his phone and tapped a text. Dave’s phone pinged, and he looked at the screen. Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for beating the shit out of that mofo. Hope your hand’s OK.

  Dave let out a laugh, loosening a wad of tension that had been balled up in his chest. “You’re welcome, but I think it was more me throwing him around the ice than beating the shit out of him.”

  Nelson’s thumbs flew. Even better. You muscled him like he was a kid’s rag doll. I’ve seen the replays. Fucking awesome.

  Heat rose up Dave’s neck, and he shuffled from foot to foot. “Well, ah …” He coughed. “See ya soon. Text me if you need anything. I mean it.”

  Lily walked him to the door and looked up at him, a tear threatening to spill from one corner of her eye. She rose on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek, then squeezed his arm. “You’re a good guy, Dave,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  He drove to his town house with a single purpose, but Lily’s words and the look of gratitude in her eyes were doing funny things to him. When he locked himself inside and pulled out Bobby’s bag of goodies, he did the same damn thing he’d done since he’d traded Bobby money for the stuff. Stared at it. Argued with himself. Back and forth. How simple it would be to cave and do it. Make his hand stop hurting.

  But then what? He’d fought hard—was still fighting—to earn back his teammates’ respect, and even if they never found out, he’d know.

  He’d been envious of Nelson today despite the broken jaw. The guy had it all, but it hadn’t been handed to him. No, he’d fought and clawed and earned every damn bit of what he had. So had Dave. So why were their lives so different?

  Dave huffed out a breath.

  As he laid out the syringes and pills, it struck him that no fucking way would Nelson entertain what Dave was contemplating. And that was the difference. Nelson lived and breathed integrity, no matter how hard it was to stick to his guns.

  For ten agonizing minutes, Dave stared at the PEDs in front of him. The neat arrangement represented salvation for his injury but devastation for his soul. If he got caught, how could he look his teammates in the eye, knowing he’d let each and every one of them down? That he hadn’t cared enough to tough it out? Disgust and disappointment would be reflected in their faces, and rightfully so. And what about Ellie? She might not run out on him, but could he stand to see regret in her beautiful blues instead of that look he loved, the one that told him he was her fucking superhero?

  Everything crystallized all at once. He had one chance—one—to not blow it all again, which left only one answer. Before he could talk himself out of it, he destroyed everything he’d bought off Bobby and sent him a text saying he wasn’t in the market anymore before deleting him from his contacts. And though his hand hurt like a son of a bitch, he felt better than he had in days because he wasn’t the muck stuck on the sole of someone’s shoe anymore. Maybe Yoda had been right all along.

  Dave stood staring at the stall in the visitors’ locker room. One more stall, one more locker room, one more road game. What city was he in? What would it feel like when he was dressing in a completely different home locker room? Not playing anywhere if my fucking hand doesn’t get better. Not only was it not getting better, it was so swollen he was having a hard time putting on his glove despite the tape job. He washed down another four ibuprofen while no one was watching.

  Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. He’d focus on celebrating with Ellie before his next game New Year’s Day—the anticipation would help him grind it out tonight. Sixty minutes. You can do this.

  “Grimson?” Dave turned and faced Coach LeBrun. Coach gave Dave’s hand a pointed look and, with a jerk of his head, motioned for him to follow. Shit, shit, shit!

  Chapter 36

  The Wicked Witch Carries Prada

  Flanked by Benny on one side and Casper on the other, Ellie stared at the TV. Why wasn’t Dave playing in tonight’s game against Dallas? The announcer said something about an injury, but what injury? Dave hadn’t uttered a word when he’d left this morning.

  Though he wouldn’t see the text until later, she started composing one anyway, asking what was going on and if he was all right. Was it his hand? He’d been so weird lately, so moody and twitchy—

  The knock on the front door had Casper barking and Ellie jumping. Benny trotted after Casper, who growled and yipped ferociously at the door until Ellie nudged her aside with her foot. Ellie looked through the peephole. She pulled in a sharp breath and looked again. What is she doing here?

  Ellie opened the door and peeked through the gap. Standing on her front stoop, stomping her booted foot and blowing on her hands, Nicole looked beautiful even under the harsh bright-white light cast by the carriage lamp.

  Ellie swallowed. “Yes?”

  Nicole flashed her a brilliant smile; she could have been auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. “Ellie, right? Can I come in? I’m here to pick up Benny.”

  What the hell? Ellie opened the door and let Nicole inside. “I wasn’t, um, expecting you.”

  “No?” The tall, gorgeous blond’s gaze took a quick trip around the interior of Ellie’s house before sweeping Ellie from head to toe. Ellie tugged at her yoga pants and her baggy sweatshirt, as if doing so would transform them to something as stylish as what Nicole wore. Skinny jeans showing off skinny legs tucked into black knee-high boots. Wide leather belt sitting on a skin-tight white top over lean hips, topped with a luxurious gray shawl cardigan sweater. In the crook of her elbow, a black designer purse with a triangle displaying “Prada.” Expensive, sleek, everything perfectly in place, from her Swedish-white blond hair to her pink lip gloss to her glittering diamond jewelry. She looked as though she’d just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. Smelled like it too. In fact, it
was the same cloying fragrance that had clung to Dave on Christmas Eve, and Ellie’s stomach flipped over. She could never be Nicole—didn’t want to be Nicole—but there was no denying the stun factor of the entire glamor package. No wonder Dave had fallen for her.

  Nicole gave Ellie a half-smile. Or was that a smirk? “Nice place.” Benny yipped a doggy hello. Nicole looked down and took a step to the side, as though afraid he might leave a spot of drool on her perfect ensemble. Casper, on the other hand, had backed up and sat sloppily on Ellie’s foot, as if to say, “We slovenly types gotta stick together.”

  Ellie straightened her shoulders. “How did you know who I am or where Benny was staying?”

  Now the smirk transformed to a “Duh, really? How stupid can you be?” look. “Because Dave told me, of course. He and I talk nearly every day.” She waved a hand carelessly, and the sparkle of a sapphire-and-diamond-encrusted tennis bracelet caught Ellie’s eye.

  Is she telling the truth?

  “Can we close the front door?” Nicole asked. “It’s freezing.”

  Guess she’s staying more than one nanosecond. “Um, yes. Of course.” Ellie was unnerved by having this woman see her private spaces. Hell, about having this woman under the same roof! Ellie switched off the TV and snatched up her phone, scrolling through her recent conversations with Dave. Nothing about Nicole picking up Benny. She slid the phone into a sweatshirt pocket.

  “I’m still a little confused,” Ellie began. “Dave never mentioned you coming to get Benny.”

  Nicky shrugged. “Typical Dave, though I can see him forgetting to tell you, given how busy he’s been. On the other hand, there’s a lot Dave won’t tell you. He’s big on ‘need to know,’ except he’s the one who decides what you need to know. Like most pro athletes, he’s a different breed and not for mere mortal women.”

  No, only for goddesses like you, apparently.

  Nicky gave her a sympathetic look. “Look, Dave and I go way back, so it’s natural we have an understanding. Did he tell you why we broke up?”

  What the hell does “an understanding” mean? “You mean the sort of understanding where you turned your back on him over the doping?”

  Nicole snorted. “Who told you that?”

  “Dave. I guess it was ‘need to know.’”

  “That’s what he told you?” Nicole shook her head. “Unbelievable. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s easier than the truth, which was that he cheated on me on the road. Every. Single. Time. Have you ever been around a group of hockey players when the puck bunnies come hopping around? A little alcohol, throw in some hot chicks in skimpy clothing willing to do anything, and I mean anything, and Dave doesn’t hesitate to leave good intentions on the floor with his clothes. Disgusting.” Nicole twirled the bracelet again. “No, of course he wouldn’t tell you all about that.”

  “If it’s true, why on earth would you want to be with someone like that?”

  “Who says I want to be with him?”

  Ellie was caught in a weird nightmare she couldn’t wake from. That had to explain why she was trapped in her own house experiencing whiplash because of this snotty, terrible woman. In an attempt to buy herself time so she could maintain some sort of equilibrium, Ellie said, “That’s a beautiful bracelet.”

  Nicole turned her wrist and regarded it with a dazzlingly dreamy smile. “It is, isn’t it? I told Dave we didn’t need to exchange Christmas gifts this year, but he insisted. He’s so generous.” She gave Ellie a pointed look. “And speaking of generosity, did he tell you what I gave him for Christmas?”

  “He showed me the beanie, and—”

  “Oh, but that wasn’t all I gave him. Guess he’s keeping that intimate little detail in his ‘need to know’ bucket.” She licked her glossy lips like a dog about to tear into a juicy bone.

  She’s lying. Don’t let her bait you. Ellie wasn’t a hater, but in this moment she hated this woman. “I guess he is. As for the uselessly extravagant beanie, what you should’ve given him was his dog back instead of holding Benny over his head like a weapon,” Ellie gritted out.

  Nicole raised a tinted, well-plucked eyebrow. “He told you that?”

  “No, but I’ve been around him long enough to know.”

  “What did he get you for Christmas?” She shook the bracelet yet another time, and Ellie bit back the urge to rip it off her wrist and stuff it down her lily-white throat.

  “Something I’ve been wanting for a while,” Ellie lied. Sort of. While she loved the set Dave gave her, she hadn’t been pining for it. She was no jewelry hound, but she knew enough to recognize the bracelet Nicole wore wasn’t just some “cheap” trinket that had required little thought on Dave’s part. Ellie didn’t care about jewelry, but knowing Dave had dropped a small fortune on Nicole when they weren’t together anymore tore a gash inside. That ugly, worn-out question about him and his former flame danced through Ellie’s mind: Were they, or weren’t they?

  “Well, isn’t that nice? Whatever he got you, I’m sure it was special,” Nicole crooned.

  Ellie crossed her arms. “Nicole, as fascinating as this conversation is, I need to get back to work, so if we can just—”

  “Doing what? Scrubbing toilets?” Nicole swept another disdainful gaze over her. “I don’t get what he sees in you. Dave likes his women … polished.” She tapped a long nail against her cheek. “But that would explain so much, like why he’s not quite ready to end our ongoing, um, relationship.”

  “Your what?” Ellie nearly kicked herself for letting this woman goad her into a reaction, no matter how egregious the cause.

  Nicole covered her mouth with graceful, manicured fingertips. “Whoops! Guess that’s a ‘need to know’ he kept to himself too,” she tsked.

  “Or there’s nothing to tell.” Ellie clenched her jaw. “Did you ever consider the only reason he has an ‘ongoing relationship’ with you is because he wants to see Benny?”

  Nicole jutted a bony hip and chortled. “He insisted I keep Benny so he has an excuse to see me.” An evil gleam lit her eyes. “While we might’ve broken up, we didn’t stop sleeping together. Ask him about it sometime.”

  Anger. Confusion. Disbelief. Contempt. These all detonated inside Ellie at once, and she dug her nails into her palms while she silently counted to ten.

  Another drippingly sympathetic smile. “You seem nice, but like I said, athletes are a different breed. They like trophies on their shelves and trophies on their arms. And Dave’s no different. In fact, he still tells me I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. The physical attraction between us has always been off the charts, and some habits are simply unbreakable. It’s not your fault.”

  Ellie made another silent count, only making it to five this time. “I’ll get Benny’s stuff together so you can get the hell out of my house.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I strike a nerve?” Nicole checked a nail. “You know, I can send you my stylist and my personal shopper’s contact information. I mean, no offense, but you’re not exactly burning up the fashion scene,” Nicole snarked and blatantly eyeballed Ellie’s shabby attire.

  Ellie turned to gather Benny’s toys, trying not to squirm inside. Her heart about broke when he followed her into the kitchen with a plea in his eyes. Don’t send me home with that awful woman. Ellie ruffled his neck and fought the stinging tears overwhelming her eyes. “I’d keep you if I could, sweetheart,” she whispered, stuffing the toys, his bowl, and his food into a bag.

  When she returned to the living room, the sneer was still frozen on Nicole’s face, and something hit Ellie between the eyes. She handed her Benny’s bag. “I feel sorry for you, Nicole. You live and breathe for your looks, for how beautiful men tell you you are, but that’s not forever. And what will you be left with when they fade?”

  “At least I have looks. You might have just enough to hold Dave’s interest for a little while,” the evil woman continued, squeezing one eye shut, pinching her thumb and index finger together. “But soon h
e’ll get bored, and you won’t be enough.”

  Did this woman share a home with the same man I know? “That may be. From what I know about Dave, he goes way deeper than that. But frankly, if I’m wrong, it’s better I find out now because I don’t want to be with a man who only cares about what’s on the surface anyway.”

  Without another word, Ellie opened the front door and made a pushing motion with her hands. Nicole and Benny walked out, and as Nicole turned with a finger raised and her wicked mouth open, Ellie slammed the door in her face and locked it. She shuffled to the couch and flopped down, face first, and let the dam of tears burst.

  Casper stood vigil beside her, and when Ellie had cried herself dry, she rolled over and stroked her little dog’s head. “I didn’t do so well keeping it casual, huh, girl? Well, at least it explains his schizophrenic behavior lately. Maybe he’s been trying to find a way to break it off so he can be with her. If that’s the case, I’ll make it easy on him. As for what Naughty Nicky said, if it isn’t all a bunch of BS, at least Dave and Benny will have each other again.”

  She pulled herself upright, slid the phone from her pocket, and read her unsent text to Dave. After deleting it, she shut the phone off and curled up on the sofa with Casper.

  Dave checked his phone one last time before takeoff. Nothing from Ellie. Not one reply to any of his seven texts. He’d called when they first boarded the charter, but it had gone straight to voicemail, and he hadn’t left a message because he wasn’t sure he could without sounding surly as hell. Should he try and tap out one more text left-handed? His right hand throbbed mercilessly, and even without the shiny new splint, it would have been totally useless. Correction: fractured right hand. A fracture discovered when Coach and the medical staff had insisted on X-rays before the game. And surprise, surprise, not just one fracture but two—a fresh one and the old one re-injured, though he suspected the old one had never fully healed to begin with. Now the docs were talking over the possibility of surgery.