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Read on for an excerpt from
In It to Win It
A Wynn Hockey Novel
by Kelly Jamieson
Available from Loveswept
JP
I should have known a Wynn family wedding wasn’t going to go off without drama.
Didn’t think it would be me in the middle of it, though.
Then again, it totally makes sense, because apparently, I can never be trusted to do the right thing.
Let’s go back to last night…
My brother Théo is getting married, but this isn’t a typical wedding (it’s the Wynn family, need I say more) because Théo and Lacey are already married, after a quickie Vegas wedding a few months ago. My mom was so disappointed about not being at their wedding, she wanted another one, and shockingly Théo agreed.
So there haven’t been bridal showers or bachelor and bachelorette parties. Tonight is the first time the wedding party and family are getting together for the rehearsal at Shores Hotel in Santa Monica, where the wedding will be held tomorrow.
I’m standing next to Théo where the ceremony will take place. Right now the arch next to us is bare but tomorrow it’ll be decked with flowers and bows and shit. We’re outside on a raised terrace, the beach right behind us.
I’m the best man. Except I’m not the best man. A year ago I fucked up and screwed over Théo, my own brother. It’s taking some time for our relationship to recover, but he says he’s forgiven me.
I haven’t forgiven myself.
And neither has the rest of our family.
I’ve had dirty looks, subtle shade, and outright hostility from my cousins, my aunt and uncles, and especially from my grandfather.
Which sucks, because Grandpa is my idol.
Bob Wynn, the King of Hockey. The man I looked up to my whole life. Until the last couple of years. He’s made some…um, interesting decisions lately. To be honest, I’m not sure what’s really going on, except I know my dad and my uncle Mark are pissed as hell at him, so much that they’re actually suing him, claiming he stole money from them.
This makes family gatherings—like this wedding—a tad uncomfortable.
But never mind all that…my attention is on the hot bridesmaid.
Taylor Hart.
I keep looking at her over on the other side of Lacey, the bride. Taylor’s so fucking hot—perfect oval face, long dark hair, dark eyes and a mouth that’s perpetually curved into a smile. For the rehearsal, she’s wearing a burgundy dress that wraps around her body and stops just above her knees, and suede heels that match the dress.
I catch her eye and grin, and she smiles back…a wide, bright smile that lights up her face. She has a great smile.
And a great rack.
She’s not here with a date. She’s not wearing a ring. Fuck yeah.
I can’t wait for this formal stuff to be done so we can party. Everyone knows what’s supposed to happen and when. I have to hand over the ring, Lacey’s best friend has to take her bouquet, blah blah blah. Now let’s have some fun.
There are about twenty of us who move to the private room after the rehearsal, and I see there are three round tables set up. Place cards identify who sits where, and since I’m one of the first ones in the room, I quickly find my own name…and Taylor’s. She’s at a different table, but I make the switch speedy quick so she’s now sitting beside me instead of my aunt, Everly. Then I head to the bar at the end of the room. Of course there’s champagne, so I grab two flutes and turn, searching for Taylor.
There she is, just entering the room. I make my way over to her and stop. “Champagne?” I hold out a glass to her.
Her lips quirk up at the corners as she reaches for the glass. “Why, thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.” I gesture at the table. “Apparently we’re sitting beside each other for dinner.”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. Did you change the place cards?”
“How did you know that?”
“I helped set up the tables.” She sips her wine, eyes dancing.
“Damn.” I rub my chin, smiling ruefully. “Busted. But can you blame me for wanting to sit beside a beautiful woman instead of my aunt?”
She shakes her head. “Your aunt is a beautiful woman.”
My Aunt Everly is only a year older than me. It’s weird, but my grandfather married for the second time later in life and had four more kids, Everly being one of them. She’s also a bridesmaid, having become good friends with Lacey. “Well, yeah, she is. But she’s my aunt. I can’t flirt with her.”
“You’re going to flirt with me?”
“All night long.” I meet her eyes and heat slides down my spine.
“Well, calling me beautiful is a good start.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I don’t know.” She tilts her head and studies me. “You seem a little cocky. You probably say that to all the girls.”
I grin. “Only the beautiful ones.”
Everyone is taking their seats for dinner, so I pull out Taylor’s chair for her.
“Thank you.”
I take my seat next to her. “We can get to know each other better over dinner.”
Her eyes meet mine and she purses her lips.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a nice guy.” I lay a hand on my chest.
She laughs. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Oh no.” I groan. “Théo’s been talking about me.”
“Well, yeah. But you also have a…reputation as a hockey player.”
“You like hockey?”
She nods.
“You’ve seen me play.”
“I was at the game last year when you hit Novotny and got suspended.”
I press my lips together, my jaw tightening. I look down at my place setting. “That shouldn’t have happened.” I lift my head and meet her eyes. “I don’t play to hurt guys. Really.”
She nods slowly. “But that wasn’t the first time you got suspended.”
I suck in a long breath. “True. Sometimes my emotions get the best of me. I’m working on it. Trying to do better.”
It’s true. This year I have to show the team I’m worth keeping on the roster. Last year didn’t go so well. In a lot of ways.
The others are now sitting at our table…six people. We make small talk, Lacey and Théo stop at the table to chit chat, and then servers start bringing out salads, so they take their own seats.
“How long have you known Lacey?” I ask as we dig into greens with blueberries, walnuts and feta cheese.
“Not long. Just since she moved here.”
“You must have become friends pretty fast.”
“Yes. We met when she helped me catch my dog. And my dog liked her, so I knew she was okay.”
“What kind of dog do you have?”
“Golden retriever. His name is Byron.”
“Nice. So that’s your test of whether someone is worth hanging out with? If your dog likes them?”
She nods, her lips quirked. “Dogs are smart.”
“Yeah. I like dogs. We had a standard poodle growing up. He was so smart it was scary.”
“And you know, sometimes you meet someone and things just…click.” Our eyes meet and hold again and the air buzzes around us. Yeah, I know that feeling. “When I met Lacey, right away I felt like I could talk to her about anything. She’s so…alive. Just fun to be with, but yet she can be serious and she’s smart, too.”
I nod. I kind of feel like that about Taylor. This feels so easy…and yet so electrifying. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a speech language pathologist.”
“Whoa.”
She laughs.
“What? What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m not even sure what a speech language pathologist does.”
A server removes our plates and we sit back for a moment. I pick up the wine glass someone has thoughtfully filled with a golden wine.
“I work primarily with kids,” she says when the server has moved away. Her face softens. “I love kids. I help children who have speech delays or disorders, language delays, sometimes swallowing or feeding disorders.”
I’m…blown away, I guess. This is not what I expected. “Do you work at a hospital?”
“No. A private clinic. I haven’t worked there long. I just graduated last year. You have to have a master’s degree to practice.”
Jesus. “Where did you go to college?”
“For my graduate degree, Seattle. University of Washington. I got my undergrad degree here in California.”
“Six years of university?”
“Yep.”
“That’s impressive.” I could never do that.
“Thanks. I love it.” She tilts her head. “You must love playing hockey.”
“I do.”
“What do you love about it?”
“Everything.” I give her a lopsided smile. “I love the action, how fast it is, the skills you need. I love competing. I love winning.”
“Don’t we all.”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Right. Obviously, with my family, if you didn’t love hockey you’d be a complete misfit.”
Now our meals are served…charred lemon chicken piccata served over pasta. It looks delicious.
“There’s nobody in your family who doesn’t like hockey?” Taylor picks up her fork. “I mean, I know Everly doesn’t play hockey, but she watches the game and works with the hockey team, sort of.”
“Yeah.” I nod and tip my wine glass to my lips. “The only ones who aren’t really involved in hockey are Chelsea—my grandpa’s wife—”
“Yes, I know who she is.” She nods and cuts a piece of chicken.
“And my mom. But my mom was a hockey mom, driving Théo and me to practices and games at ungodly hours, lugging our equipment around, cheering us on at every game. So that counts, I guess.”
“And Chelsea married into a hockey family.”
“Right.”
“I have to admit I didn’t grow up watching hockey, but I got free tickets to a game once when I was about seventeen, and I loved it. It was so fast and fierce.”
“Yeah.” I like it that she enjoys hockey. “Do you play any sports?”
“I played volleyball in high school, and college.”
“Hey, no kidding. That’s awesome.”
“I still like to get together with friends on the beach and play some ball.”
Every nerve ending in my body goes on alert as I picture Taylor in a bikini, jumping up and down in the sand, setting and spiking the ball. “I’d love to do that.”
“Well, sure. There are volleyball nets right near where I live. Which is right by Lacey and Théo. We should do that sometime.”
Sparks crackle between us. I lean closer. “For sure. That would be fun.”
“You know how to play volleyball?”
“Yeah.” I shrug.
“You’re probably good at it.”
“Eh. Not as good as hockey.”
“Volleyball’s not as rough as hockey.”
“I play a physical game,” I admit.
“Do you get in a lot of fights?”
“No. Not a lot. Sometimes you gotta step up, but I don’t go around instigating things.” I’m not ashamed of my style of play, but I want her approval. “Okay, I know you like dogs and kids and volleyball. How about tattoos?”
She laughs. “Do I like them on other people? Or on myself?”
“Both.”
“I have no tattoos. But I like them on other people. Do you have any?”
“Yeah. Just one, one my back.” I pause, then lean closer to ask in a low voice, “What’s your opinion on porn?”
She bursts out laughing again. “Wow, we’re really getting to the good stuff.”
“Just curious.”
“Maybe we could talk about this later.” She glances around at the others at the table.
“Absolutely.” I don’t hesitate because I’m perfectly willing to talk to Taylor about porn later…preferably up in my hotel room, where I’m staying for the weekend nuptials.
For a while we join in other conversation at our table, until we’re served the tiny slice of chocolate cake served over raspberry sauce.
“Raspberries are my favorite fruit,” Taylor says.
With my fork, I lift the berries garnishing my plate and transfer them to hers.
She shoots me a startled glance.
I smile. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you.” She gives her head a small shake and pushes the tines of her fork into one berry.
With dinner finished, Théo and Lacey stand at one end of the room to say a few words, thanking all of us, and then presenting their wedding party—me, Taylor, Karine, Everly, Andy and Leo with our gifts, gold bracelets for the bridesmaids and for the guys, a wooden box with whiskey stones and shot glass, and a bottle of Crown Royal.
“This is awesome,” I say to Théo. “Thanks, bro.”
Some people are moving out to the hotel bar for another drink and since Taylor is one of them, I join them too. We’re at a smaller table with a little more privacy. She orders a glass of sauvignon blanc and I go for a beer this time.
“I can’t stay too late,” she says. “Don’t want to be posing for pictures tomorrow with big bags under my eyes.”
I scoff. “You could never look bad.” She really is one of those natural beauties, with high cheekbones, perfect skin and full lips.
“And you’re full of it.” She smiles though.
Damn, that smile. It makes me hard. “Now you can tell me what kind of porn you like to watch.”
“Did I say I like to watch porn?”
I catch the teasing twinkle in her eye and grin. I pick up my drink.
“Okay, okay,” she says. “Porn is fun sometimes. I’m kind of an ‘everything in moderation’ person. I don’t like stuff that’s demeaning to women, though. I like romantic porn. But I don’t think it’s good for anyone to watch too much of it. Real life sex is better.”
“Oh hell yeah.” I hold her gaze meaningfully. Heat Slides through my veins, my dick thickens arousal. “I bet real life sex with you is amazing.”
“That’s…” Her eyelashes flutter, but she’s looking at my mouth. “Inappropriate.”
“I often am,” I admit. “But I’m not taking it back.”
I want to kiss her so damn bad. I’ve always had a little problem with impulse control, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from leaning in even closer and kissing her. But there are others around us, friends and family, so I restrain myself, giving myself a mental pat on the back.
“Have you ever made a sex tape?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Uh…no. That’s not really smart.”
“Sadly, that’s true. You have to trust the person you’re with.”
“Not only that! What about that actress who had her sex tapes stolen from the cloud? Hackers can get into anything.”
“Right.”
“And maybe you trust the person at the time, but then you discover he’s a pill-popping addict with a gambling problem who hits on your friends, and you dump his ass and next thing you know he’s sending the video to all his buddies on Snapchat.”
“Whoa.” I frown. “You’re not speaking from experience, I hope.”
“No.” She gives an impish smile. “But it could happen.”
“I guess. I would never do that.”
“So you
say.”
“You don’t trust me?”
She leans forward, her smile sultry. “I don’t trust anyone to make a sex tape with, but I’d trust you for…other things.”
“Oh. I’m good at…other things.” Lightning-hot desire jolts straight to my groin.
Her eyes darken and her lips part. “Too bad I’ll never know.”
“Ouch.” I sit back, pouting.
She laughs lightly.
I shake my head. “Cut off at the knees by a gorgeous woman.”
“Thank you. You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.” She pats my shoulder.
Her hand lingers on my shoulder as our eyes connect again. Excitement sparkles through my veins. “You’re just busting my balls. You want to come up to my room with me.”
Her breath hitches.
Leaning closer, I murmur near her ear, “No video, I promise. But I can guarantee you several orgasms.”
“Th-that’s a bold promise.”
“Confident. Also I’m dying to taste you…and make you feel good…”
“Oh god.” She gulps some wine.
I sit back and try to look casual, but when I meet her eyes, sexual urgency sizzles around us. I finish my beer. As I set it on the table, I lean in close to her ear. “I’m going up to my room. Four fourteen. I’d love for you to join me. Your call.”
I say good-night to the others there, who I’ll see tomorrow for the wedding, and stroll out of the bar, across the lobby and into the elevator.
My skin is prickling and my veins are buzzing as I enter my suite. I flick on a light, the door closing behind me, drop my gift from Théo onto the desk, and stroll over to the window. I have an ocean view room, and I can see the lights of the Santa Monica Pier, the Ferris wheel glowing against the night sky.
I don’t know if Taylor will come to my room or not. I’m going to be disappointed as hell if she doesn’t, because there’s some crazy chemistry between us. There’s always tomorrow, though. A sexy bridesmaid always makes a wedding a little more fun.
I kick off my shoes, sprawl onto the couch in the living room and pick up the remote for the giant TV. Tomorrow, Théo and the other guys will join me here to get ready for the wedding and have some pictures taken. I’ve got drinks and snacks for the pre-game.
Play to Win Page 26
