“Kirby!” he called. “Your mama’s here! Come on, boy! She’s here!”
The scrabbling clickety-clack of Kirby’s claws announced his approach and Maggie knelt as he skidded to a stop in front of her, his tail wagging rapidly as he pranced in place.
“Kirby, honey, I’m glad to see you too.” She submitted to Kirby’s eager kisses, rubbing his squat furry body with affection.
“He really missed you.” As Maggie stood, Spencer waved them inside. “Come in, come in. The pizza just got here.”
“Pizza?” Jade asked.
He talked over his shoulder as he walked them toward the kitchen. “You guys haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
Eyes wide, Jade mouthed, We’re going to have dinner with Spencer Corbett!
Maggie held up her finger in a violent cautionary motion. “No, we haven’t. Pizza sounds great. This is my friend, Jade, by the way. Jade, this is Spencer.”
Jade gave him a goofy smile as she shook his hand.
“Good to meet you. Sit down, have a slice of pizza. I got one barbecue chicken and one veggie.”
“Is all this for us?” Jade asked. “Are you expecting anyone else? Some of your teammates, maybe?”
Maggie slanted her friend a sharp look, which Jade ignored.
“Nah. I’ll freeze the leftovers and eat them when I get back from Florida.”
“What’s this?” Maggie said, lifting the foil on a baking dish on the counter. It looked like lasagna, except it had green sauce instead of red.
“Something my neighbor dropped over,” he said, putting it into the fridge.
He passed out plates, got them drinks and incredibly, they sat down at his kitchen table and ate dinner together. Kirby sat at her feet and leaned. His weight against her calf was familiar and comforting.
“Think you can beat Tampa Bay?” Jade asked. “Their new goalie is pretty tough.”
His eyebrows rose. “You a fan?”
“I’ve been known to watch a hockey game or two.”
“It’s always the plan, to go in and win.”
But despite the front-loaded talent, the Dragons weren’t doing well this season and from what she’d heard at the watch party, the players and the coaching staff were in disagreement.
“You know what your problem is—“
“Jade…” Maggie said in a warning tone.
“You guys need to convert on the power play.”
Maggie kicked Jade under the table. “Spencer probably doesn’t want to talk shop.”
But he shrugged. “I don’t mind. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion. Besides, our power play stats are public knowledge. What do you think, Maggie?”
“Oh, I…I don’t think I’m qualified to say.”
“Come on. I really want to know.”
“Okay, honestly? There’s never anyone in front of the net and you’re…” She bit her lip. “You guys play like you’re a better team than you are.”
Even Jade turned to her in shock at this, but Spencer looked amused.
“What I mean by that is it seems like you’re always holding out for that gorgeous shot and that there’s something distasteful about those gritty goals that you have to scramble for. And oh my God, the drop passes. Can I tell you how frustrating it is to watch you all do that time after time when no one is there to receive it? Sure it looks super cool when it works, but it seems to me that one moment of cool isn’t worth it if you turn over the puck. If you were back-to-back Stanley Cup Champions, like a certain annoying Pittsburgh team I won’t name, maybe you could get away with that, but you’re not. So please, stop choosing style over substance.”
After a moment’s silence, Jade said, “Dayum. You’ve got guts, sister.”
Maggie felt her face burn hot. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Spencer. I shouldn’t have…I don’t know where all that came from.”
Despite the fact that she’d just verbally excoriated his team, he was still smiling. “Don’t be sorry. I appreciate your honesty. Really. Which reminds me,” he said, laying his big hand over Maggie’s. “I’d appreciate it if you kept what you heard the other day at my house to yourself.”
For a moment, Maggie couldn’t respond. As before, Spencer’s touch made her tingle all over, especially down below. She had to pull her hand away or risk lunging toward him in an act of desperate longing.
“What did you hear?” Jade asked, her eyes darting between Spencer and Maggie.
“Nothing,” Maggie said, brushing some crumbs off her shirt.
Spencer smiled as if he knew how much his touch affected her and Jade pouted. “Party pooper,” she said.
“So, I, ah, got you a little something to thank you for what you’re doing,” Spencer said. “It’s in my car. I’ll be right back.”
He left the room and Jade immediately did a silent squeal, tapping her toes on the floor in a rapid staccato. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “He’s so hot! And nice. So down to earth. I can’t believe I’m eating pizza at Spencer Corbett’s house.” Jade put a hand on Maggie’s arm. “I wonder what he’s getting.”
Maggie wondered that too.
Spencer came back with a fat envelope, sat back down and scooted it toward her across the table. “This is a token of my gratitude. I believe in what goes around comes around and when I can, I like to be the one to make it come around.”
As Maggie picked it up, she pressed her lips together and a wrinkle appeared in her forehead. “If it’s a pile of cash, I’m refusing it.”
“I know, right? It looks like a mafia payoff,” Jade said.
“It’s not cash.”
She drew out the stack of tickets and Jade gasped.
“It’s all the home games for the rest of the season.”
Maggie looked at him in shock as Jade took the stack of tickets from her.
“Oh my God,” Jade said. “These are…”
“On the premiere level,” he said. “Center ice.”
Maggie couldn’t believe it. “Spencer, this is…so extravagant.
“Hey, look. Lulu means the world to me and the fact that you’re allowing Kirby to stay with her in order to make the end of her life as comfortable as possible…” He cleared his throat. “These tickets are nothing compared to that.”
Maggie made the mistake of looking into his magnetic blue eyes. Her pulse fluttered erratically, like a hummingbird trying to fly in a storm, and yet everything south of her waist felt hot and full and heavy.
At last she had to glance aside. The length of time they’d been staring at each other had grown awkwardly long.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“And you call yourself a teacher.” Jade shouldered her friend. “You say thank you.”
Overwhelmed, Maggie smiled. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I…I may not be able to go to all the games though. I have one more semester of classes until I get my master’s.”
“Maggie,” he said with one of his devastating smiles, “these tickets are yours to do with what you will. You can sell them if you want. It’s up to you.”
Later in the car, Jade hugged the tickets like it was indeed a bundle of cash, but she wasn’t bouncing off the walls. Maggie had expected her to be excitedly crowing about Spencer’s generosity and the dozens of games that she could potentially be attending. She’d thought her friend would be yammering about how gorgeous the man’s house was and how electrifying his smile was. But she was doing none of that. She was strangely silent.
“What’s going on?” Maggie said. “Are you sick? Did the pizza make you sick?”
“No, I’m not sick.”
“Then why aren’t you waxing poetic over Spencer’s eye wrinkles? You did notice them, didn’t you?”
Jade had a thing for eye wrinkles on a man. The guy could be an internationally-known asshat, but if he got crinkly eyes when he smiled, that was somehow a sign that he wasn’t a complete lost cause.
“Of course I noticed. But poetic waxing—while far less painful
than bikini waxing—over him would violate the Girl Code.”
Maggie gave her a questioning glance and Jade scoffed.
“He. Likes. You.” Jade poked Maggie’s thigh with each word.
Maggie recoiled mentally and physically. “Oh my God, he does not. I’m at least five years older than he is. He couldn’t like me. Not that way.”
“Yes, he does. I saw it. I know what I saw. And five years is a complete non-issue.”
“What you saw was a guy being nice to the woman who is his dog’s savior, once removed. That’s all.”
“No.” Jade slowly shook her head. “I saw a man ‘in like’ with a woman. I saw him watching you when you weren’t looking. I saw something in his eyes when he handed you those tickets.”
“What sort of something?”
Jade squinted. “It’s hard to describe, but it wasn’t just ‘here’s some tickets to thank you.’ It was more like he was really…invested, I guess, in you liking the gift.”
Maggie brought the car to a stop at the red light. “You know what? Don’t. I’m already trying not to blow things out of proportion. It’s all so surreal that I don’t need you to start spinning romantic impossibilities for me. My life is not a rom-com, Jade. No one’s life is. This is not a movie and if it was, I could tell you the ending right now. When Lulu passes away, we’re all going to cry and then we’ll part ways. He might send me a token pair of tickets in the future, for old time’s sake, but that’ll be it. He’ll ride off into his sunset and I’ll ride off into mine. End of story.”
“Movie. End of movie.”
Maggie made a frustrated noise and waved her hand. “Whatever. Just do me a favor. Keep a lid on your Hallmark fantasies. I don’t want them and I don’t need them.”
9
The first home game after the Florida road trip was against Anaheim, which meant tonight would be a physical and intense game. The Ducks had kept the Dragons out of the second round of the playoffs a couple of seasons ago, so the Dragons wanted vengeance. They had something to prove. In addition, former Dragon Steve Selkirk now wore orange and black. Selkirk was the kind of guy you liked when he was on your team but hated otherwise. He was a nasty but skilled pest who had a flare for getting away with shit the on-ice officials never saw.
As for Spencer, the knowledge that Maggie and her friend Jade would be attending ratcheted his feelings about the game up a couple notches. Many women couldn’t care less about the game, but Maggie was a real fan. At the watch party when he and the guys had their little bitch session, he got the feeling she already knew some of what was going on with the team. He and his teammates tried to keep their opinions confined to the locker room, but when trouble like they had went on for so long, it was only a matter of time before things got out.
Until then, he was going to go out there every night and do what they paid him to do, do what the coaches told him, even if he disagreed. His job was to play hockey, not revamp the team. Part of him hoped he’d be traded. He loved living in San Francisco and being a Dragon, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he wouldn’t be happier on another team.
The pick-up game of corridor soccer was still going strong when Spencer bowed out and headed toward the dressing room. He’d thought the activity might help his stress level, but all he was doing was embarrassing himself by missing the damn ball over and over.
Luc Martel called out. “Hey, Corby, where you going?”
“I need some alone time. That’s all. I’m gonna go listen to some music.”
Martel kicked the ball across the circle and got the rally going. “Oh, yeah? KHRT plays love songs, 24/7, just FYI.”
Some chuckling made Spencer stop and turn when he probably just should have kept going.
“Yeah,” Luc went on, “I heard through the grapevine that someone has a new girlfriend.”
“Who?” Spencer asked.
Luc scoffed. “You, dumbshit.”
Spencer shook his head. “I don’t have a new girlfriend.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Luc insisted, kneeing the ball across to a teammate. “I heard you forked out a crap load of money so she could watch you play the rest of the season from primo seats.”
“Jesus Christ.” Spencer started walking away. “She’s a girl. She’s my friend. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“But you got her those tickets, didn’t you?’
Spencer didn’t answer him. Luc already knew the answer anyway.
An hour later, Spencer nearly scored a goal on his first shift, only three minutes in, from the blue line, no less. He saw a lane just open up in front of him, so he took a shot. Just a half-inch to the left and it would have made it in. Fuck!
On his next shift, he timed a hip check perfectly, forcing a beautiful turnover. They didn’t score on that opportunity, but Spencer was clearly in the zone. Eventually, the coach noticed and started sending him out on the first line, which sort of sucked. He didn’t like playing with Dallas Wingate. When Wingate was on the ice, the play was always get the puck to him so he could shoot.
So that’s what Spencer did. During a power play, he fed him the puck and, bingo, Wingate scored. Eight minutes later, they did it again, this time short-handed.
“Hey, Corby, keep it up!” Wingate had said after slapping him on the helmet.
“Sure thing,” Spencer mumbled.
Shortly thereafter, he and Wingate found themselves racing toward the Anaheim goal with only one defenseman trying to cover them. Wingate was almost to the left circle—his designated sweet spot—but everyone was expecting a pass to him, so he deked instead, and in that split second when everyone shifted their attention to Wingate, he fucking buried it.
Goal.
The horn blew. The crowd leapt to their feet. Spencer circled back for a brief five-man celebration where everyone was pumped.
Except Wingate.
The fuckhead barely acknowledged the goal and scoffed as Spencer skated past him to head for the bench.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, asshole, Spencer thought. You’re not the only one who can score.
After that, Spencer felt his focus shift. All of a sudden, he wasn’t playing against Anaheim anymore. He was playing against Wingate. During one of the TV timeouts near the end of the second period, Wingate skated over to where Spencer sat on the bench.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m catching my breath waiting for my next shift.”
“No, I meant out there.” Wingate gestured toward the ice violently with his stick.
Spencer chuckled mirthlessly. “Out there, I’m playing hockey.”
“Don’t be a dumbass. Stick to playing defense and leave the shooting to the snipers.”
“Or what?” Spencer asked. “What are you going to do? Tattle?”
Wingate glanced behind Spencer, but the coaches were at the other end of the bench. He scowled. “You know what? Fuck you. Go ahead. I don’t give a fuck what you do. You had your moment in the sun, but now it’s time to go back into the shadows because the next period is mine, motherfucker.”
Spencer chuckled as Wingate turned and skated toward the face-off dot. He looked furious, which filled Spencer with a fiendish glee.
“Someone just had a hissy fit,” Max said. “And it was pretty fucking awesome.”
“I just want to punch his face in,” Spencer said. “But more than that I want to score again just so I can look him in the eye and smirk afterward.”
Max leaned his head close. “Let’s do it. Let’s fucking go out there and make it happen.” He elbowed Zappala who sat on his other side. “Zapper, wanna help Winny look bad?”
Ian spit on the ground. “Stupid question.”
“Then pass the word down. Winny’s being a fuckhead again and pretty much told Corbie he was a loser, so we want to get him another goal.”
“Then a goal he shall have, by God. I’d love to see Winny taken down a peg or three.”
Maggie was literally on the edge of h
er seat. If she sat any farther forward, she’d topple over onto the person sitting in front of her. It was the third period and the Dragons were winning, thanks, in large part, to Spencer. She had never seen him play so well. Not only was he holding the blue line, blocking shots, stealing the puck, he already had one goal and two assists.
“Your man is red hot tonight,” Jade remarked. “I think he’s showing off for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” But Maggie secretly hoped Jade was right.
For a moment, she let herself go along with the fantasy that Spencer was aware of her presence and that she had influence on his performance on the ice. Did he care that she was watching? Had he looked for her in the stands? Or was he so focused on his play that he had tuned everything out but the game?
“He’s on the ice,” Jade said.
Maggie searched until she saw him, poised to receive the puck if his teammate won the face-off, which they did. Maggie found it hard to take her eyes off Spencer. Ever since she’d met him, she’d found herself ignoring the puck during the games and just watching him. It was getting to the point where she knew it was him, even if she couldn’t see his face, name or jersey number. She recognized his stride, the angle of his back, the way he held his stick.
However, she happened to be looking at the action when Wingate got the puck and shot it toward the net. He missed, but the rebound shot right toward Max Stone, who on a normal night, would have shot it himself or passed it back to Wingate, who was still open, but he zipped it to Spencer instead. With a flick of the wrist, Spencer sent it toward the net and snuck it past the goalie. The action was bing-bam-boom and as his teammates converged to congratulate him, Maggie leapt to her feet and cheered.
“I cannot believe how well he’s playing,” Jade exclaimed, clapping wildly.
That goal turned out to be the game winner. Anaheim got within one goal but couldn’t get it tied. Maggie and Jade whooped it up and even danced around the box because there was plenty of room behind the seats they’d sat in to watch the game. They watched the announcement of the three stars of the game—Spencer being number one tonight—but after that was over and Maggie picked up her purse, Jade just sat there.
Animal Attraction (San Francisco Dragons Book 2) Page 5
