Razors Ice 04 - Hot Ice (9 page)

“Definitely.”

Violet squirted oil on her hands while Jace situated himself on the table. She drizzled spicy essential oil on his back, rubbing it in with swirling, confident strokes.

Here we go
again
, she thought and readied herself for the feel of his skin under her fingertips.

Applying just the right amount of pressure, she ran her palms over the width of his back. Noticing knots around his
shoulders, she gently kneaded the muscles. She zeroed in on his tightest spots, pressing and rubbing them until every knot relented.

Although he was draped with a sheet throughout the
massage, she shivered at the thought of only a thin piece of fabric separating them. At some point, she noticed the sheet had inched its way up his thigh. She ignored it and made long strokes from ankles to the inner thighs and from his Achilles tendon to the base of his butt. After releasing the tightness in his hamstrings, she applied acupressure to key points, relieving his tension. She methodically made her way down his thighs, finding and massaging several pressure points along the way.

When she worked her way up to his thighs, Jace came close to losing control. Instead of relaxing like he was supposed to
be doing during a massage, he had himself coiled up tight to prevent his mind from wandering to the things he wanted to do to Violet on and off the massage table. He strained against his growing erection and shifted his weight to one side.

He
desperately tried to think of unpleasant things to distract himself from the rampant sexual thoughts he kept experiencing. So he thought about menial things. Every day, boring,
non
-sexual chores. Paying his taxes came to mind. All those pesky forms and numbers. Only to be reminded that he had an accountant who filed his taxes for him. So he tried to think about yard work. Mowing, weeding, trimming… But then again, he had a gardener who took care of the landscaping for him as well. When he thought about raking leaves—which he never did either—he imagined falling into a pile of them with Violet and kissing her into a frenzy. But it was February and the trees were bare and there were no leaves anyway.

Okay, how about washing his car? No, that was no good
either. No good at all. He used the car wash in town, where teenagers working part-time waxed and detailed his car
for
him. It really didn’t help matters when Jace thought about how he would wash the car himself. Hose down the body, wash a bucketful of suds over her curves... No, no,
no
.

All right, w
hat about cleaning house? No. He had Veronica, his housekeeper, to do that for him. Damn, wasn’t there
anything
he didn’t pay someone to do for him? Sure, there were a lot of things he didn’t pay for. Drinks at Club 21 downtown…hockey tickets…
sex
.

“Okay, you can turn over onto your back now,” Violet said softly.

When she spoke in her silky voice, Jace jerked back to reality and his erection came back to life along with him. He paused and cleared his throat to buy time. God, how could he let his body betray him like this? He was a grown man and should have more control over these things. Maybe he shouldn’t
want
to control this.

Slowly, he sat up and looked down at his lap. “I, uh…You seem to be having an
effect on me, Violet. I seem to be having a…uh…a reaction to you.”

“Reaction?”
Violet frowned and then her eyes grew wide when her gaze traveled down to his lap and lingered at the tented sheet.

“Oh…
Good,” she whispered under her breath. When she realized she’d said the words out loud, her cheeks flushed pink and she cleared her throat. “I mean…I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” He grabbed her wrist before she could take a step back. The thought of her stopping made
Jace want to shackle her to the massage table. He wasn’t going to let her go anywhere.

Violet swallowed and
searched his eyes. They were dark with desire and her stomach fluttered. The thin sheet was all that separated them and she fought back the urge to peek underneath it. She licked her bottom lip and his eyes followed the movement.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleaded.

“Okay,” she said, but stayed frozen under his gaze.

They both knew the massage was over, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.
Finally, she tore her eyes from his and wiped her hands off on an extra towel.

Jace didn’t want this moment to end.
He took the towel from her and took her hands in his. His thumbs made little circles on her knuckles. “Do your hands ever get tired?” he asked softly.

“N-no,” she croaked.
She cleared her throat and shifted her feet. “They’re pretty used to it.”

He pulled her to him and she stood in the V of his legs. His hands slipped down and circled her waist. She
rested her palms lightly on his shoulders.

She shouldn’t be here with him.
Surrounded by his manly scent and muscular arms and thighs. She was engaged to Phillip and they were going to be married. Just as soon as they agreed on a date for the wedding. Just as soon as she could be sure that he had any feelings for her.

Jace
searched her face and she averted her eyes to focus on his chest rising and falling as he breathed. Big mistake. The sprinkling of hair there begged her to run her fingers through it and feel its silky coarseness. She dug her fingers into his shoulders to stop herself. Her whole body tingled. In anticipation, with nervousness, with excitement…

Jace
leaned forward ever so slightly and Violet licked her lips and swallowed. Before he could press his lips to hers, she moved slightly to the right and placed a kiss on the scar at the corner of his mouth. She could hear his breath whoosh out of his chest and suck back in again.

She kept her left hand on his shoulder and moved her right hand up and into the soft hair at the base of his neck. His breathing hitched again. She pressed her cheek to his and closed her eyes.
His breath was hot on her shoulder.

She
tilted her head and kissed his temple, cheek and neck. Everywhere but his mouth. It wasn’t any less wrong, but she knew the minute their lips met, she’d be a goner.

While she kissed the spot next to his earlobe, h
is hands caressed her waist and finally rested on her hips. She felt his fingertips dig into her flesh and her breath caught. It wasn’t her intention to tease him, but this was so dangerously wicked on so many levels that she hesitated to give in. This shouldn’t be happening. This
couldn’t
be happening.

But she wanted to kiss him on the lips.

Violet leaned back, looked into his eyes, looked at his lips and then decided to go for it. Life was too short to turn down a little taste of happiness when it came your way.

Jace
leaned forward until her lips were a breath away and she closed her eyes, ready to meet him the rest of the way.

The phone in the kitchen rang, interrupting their lips.

“The machine will get it,” Jace said, his voice rough and his breath tickling her face. “I have a landline because I don’t always get cell reception way out here.” Why was he explaining himself to her? Because she looked stunned and terrified like she might sprint away at any second like a frightened doe.

Violet held her breath
and froze in place. She was just about to kiss Jace smack dab on the lips. If the phone hadn’t rang…

Sebby’s voice
boomed over the answering machine, his thick Russian accent snapping Violet back to reality. She sighed and pulled back, but Jace’s hands held her hips in place.

She needed some fresh air, some room to breathe, some time to think, but he wasn’t letting her go.

“Ace, it’s Seb,” the goalie said. “You not still pissed about other day? Poor, old, sensitive Ace. Hey, vut vas da name of dat waitress in Denver? The vun vith da huge ti—”

In one swift movement, Jace was across the room
snatching up the phone. He held the sheet around his waist with one hand and grabbed the receiver in the other. “Hey, Sebby,” he said into the phone. Let me call you back, okay?”

He turned his back to Violet
and his shoulders sagged. “No. You wish. Seriously, I have to go.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Yeah, okay.” Jace paused and lowered his voice. “Her name was Dolores. Okay, okay. Good luck tonight. Bye.” He hung up the phone and came back to Violet whose feet remained rooted next to the massage table in the same spot he left her.

“Wow, was that Alexandre Sebastien?” she asked in awe
, still tingling from their almost-kiss.

“Yeah.”

“He’s only one of the greatest goaltenders
ever
.”

Jace chuckled. “Don’t tell
him
that. It’ll seep into that thick Russian skull of his and ruin him for good.” His face grew serious and he reached out and touched her cheek.

S
he felt herself lean into him. “I really should be going.” It was a whisper, but it was all she was capable of with his hand warm on her skin.

His eyes flashed something she didn’t recognize.
Indifference? Anger? He dropped his hand down to his side. “Right.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to the rest of your massage, but it’s getting late…” She trailed off, not really wanting to leave, but desperately feeling like she needed to.

“Some other time,” he said simply and flashed a reassuring smile.

“Your appointment on
Monday.”

“Sure.”
His voice was flat and unreadable like his face.

Before she could change her mind,
Violet gathered her things, folded up her massage table and hurried out to her car.

Chapter Five

Family

Jace was angry and frustrated. He wanted to be on the ice, not
stuck rehabbing. The day before at practice, he’d had to wear a yellow no-contact jersey because he wasn’t cleared for contact yet. He hated being singled out from the team and felt like a weakling.

To make matters worse, by favoring his leg with the “good” knee, he’d put more pressure on it and as a result his whole body felt out of alignment.

And all he had to do was put on the equipment and he was sore for days. As much as Jace wanted to check yesterday’s practice off as a success, he knew he’d be fooling himself. It was time to think about letting go.

But not quite yet.
He still needed more time.

On the bright side, even if he wasn’t cleared for full contact, it still felt good to be on the ice. Working up a sweat and shooting pucks felt good. It felt damn good and wasn’t something he wanted to go without for long. It was nice to be around the guys again, too. Even if it was just to hang out.

The only good thing about Jace’s situation was Violet. She had no idea how damn sexy she was and Jace was disappointed, to say the least, when Seb’s phone call had interrupted them. She had been
this
close to kissing him. His entire body hummed at the thought of her luscious lips pressed against his. He bet she tasted just as good as she smelled.

Jace was in a crabby mood when he arrived at the NorCal Center, home of the Red Valle
y Razors. Dressed in his game day Ralph Lauren suit, carrying his game day coffee, Jace strode into the building. The only difference today was that instead of playing in the game, he would be watching from the booth—the last place he wanted to be on game day.

At least
Jace wouldn’t be on the sidelines alone. Pete “The Fist” Fontaine would be in the box along with him. Pete had been sidelined by a hit that had resulted in a nasty concussion. The dirty hit had been the only way opposing teams could ward off the likes of a guy like Pete. He didn’t earn the nickname “The Fist” by accident.

Once again, t
he only positive thing to result from Jace’s injuries was Violet. He had an appointment with her tomorrow, so that was good. Something about her revved up his system and had him imagining all kinds of scenarios with and without massage oil. But today was game day and thoughts of Violet would have to be put up on the shelf until later.

J
ust as he was walking through the arena doors, Jace’s phone rang. Despite the name on the caller ID, he answered it gruffly.

“Hey, big brother
,” his brother Donovan chirped.

“What’s up?”

“The parents are letting me come to RV for spring break. I’m staying with my buddy Travis...”

It was impossible to listen to Donovan ramble on at eighty miles a minute and not smile. Jace’s bad mood lifted as he
made the long walk to the players’ lounge.

“I’m gonna need a ride from the airport
,” Donovan said, not bothering to ask. “Travis’ wheels are in the shop.” He paused when Jace didn’t say anything and then finally asked, “So will you pick me up?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Are you playing tonight?”

“No,” he answered bitterly.
So much for the better mood.

“You better give Mom a call. She’s still all worried about your shoulder.”

Jace grumbled.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

Before Jace could reply, Donovan hung up.

Jace
made small talk with some of his teammates in the locker room and prepared to watch his team play hockey from the wrong side of the glass.

* * *

Violet drove to her parents’ house straight from her last appointment of the day. She could have gone home to shower and change, but the game had already started and she figured that wearing her work shirt with the Healing Touch logo embroidered on the front would serve as a good reminder to her mother that, yes, her daughter was gainfully employed and not the slacker she constantly made her out to be.

The James’ had a standing monthly family night where Violet’s mom made a ton of food and fussed over her sons. Violet thought the monthly
get-together was a bit redundant because even though they had their own place, her brothers were at their parents’ house several times a week raiding the fridge anyway.

The Razors were playing the
North Carolina Cardinals, the defending Gordie Cup Champions and her brothers had been talking about the matchup for weeks.

Violet’s
parents’ lived in a two-story colonial in west Red Valley where they had lived for their thirty years of marriage and raised their four children. It was a lovely house with a rusty-red brick façade, shutters framing the symmetrical windows and an immaculately manicured lawn. Each homey touch was the result of Violet’s mother who constantly felt the need to convince the world, including their neighbors, that they were the great all-American family.

Perfect families didn’t include daughters with wandering eyes, so
Violet pushed all thoughts of Jace McQuaid out of her mind and decided not to tell her brothers about meeting him. She hated to think what her family would think of her if they knew that she’d almost kissed him.

Violet
found her brother Brayden in the living room watching the pre-game show. The room was decorated in warm blues and taupes and filled with comfortable furniture. Framed photos of Violet and her brothers at varying ages were clustered on every available surface.

Her mother was probably in the kitchen doing what she did best: whipping up a
four course meal for her precious boys. If it were up to her mother, Violet would be a stay at home mom with a brood of children of her own tugging at her apron strings as she cooked her growing family a “proper” supper. Anything less was a disappointment and Janie James had no problem voicing such shortcomings to her daughter.

The truth was
Violet didn’t want kids and all the angst that came with them. She just wanted to bring relief to the elderly through massage and have a loving man to come home to. Preferably a man who didn’t continually brush her off and have rotating personalities. Somehow, someway she’d made a terrible mistake when she’d promised herself to Phillip.

“Where’s Dr. Phil?”
Brayden asked around a mouthful of chips.

“Work.”

Brayden nodded and turned his attention back to the TV. Brayden, the oldest, cared about two things. The family business and hockey.

Violet settled next to her brother on the couch
, grabbed one of the chips out of the bowl he was holding and shoved it in her mouth. Patricia had begged her to “squeeze” in another appointment and Violet hadn’t had time to eat lunch. That was the third time this week.

“Where’s
Tan?” she asked, looking around for their brother.

“He’s running late.
”

Tanner was rarely on time for anything.
Even hockey. Their mother often joked about how he was even a week late when he came into the world.

“
How’s the massage business?” Brayden asked, only half paying attention.

“Good. Pats
knows a guy at the Razors who’s going to start sending us some players.”

“
Awesome. You ever see Sebby, tell him to keep that leaky five hole shut.”

“He can’t stop every puck, Bra
y.”

“No, but he can stop the ones comin’ at his own net.”

A few minutes later when the chips were almost gone, Tanner blew into the living room like a hurricane. He looked haggard and much older than his twenty-eight years and Violet instantly felt bad for him.

Where
Brayden was muscular with dark close-cropped hair and the body of a lumberjack, Tanner was lean with light hair. Violet, Tanner and Jeremy all had their mother’s light hair and features and Brayden took after their father. Tanner and Jeremy could have been twins and Tanner probably wished they were. Jeremy had become a rock star virtually overnight while the rest of his siblings were left in Red Valley to be ordinary.

Tanner
had tried out for and made it into the minors, but tore his ACL and was never the same. Now, the only hockey Tanner played was in the community league, but it wasn’t the same. Violet made the one-time mistake of reminding him that it was better than not getting to play at all. That angered him and he proceeded to rant about how the community league was full of old-timers, cripples and has-beens.

Violet wondered how different his life might have turned out if he hadn’t been injured. He would have gone on to play in the UNHL and become a star player. She knew Tanner felt the pressure to succeed, but instead of rise to the challenge, he found solace at the blackjack table.

Brayden, on the other hand, was perfectly happy working at James Auto Body for the rest of his life and playing hockey without getting paid for it.

“Jeez, brother,
” Brayden said after taking one look at Tanner. “You look like shit.”

Tanner might not have deserved the harsh description, but he
certainly looked like he’d been up for a few days straight.

“Thanks,” he mumbled
and collapsed into a chair.

“Another all-nighter at the casino?”

Tanner ignored his older brother and acknowledged Violet with a nod.

The whole family knew
Tanner spent too much time at the casino in Baker’s Bluff, but no one said anything about it. Most likely they were in denial about his gambling problem. Violet’s mom probably secretly hoped he’d meet a “nice girl” at the casino who was ready to settle down and start a family. Anything to finally get a few grandbabies from her children.

“I coulda used you today with that
Pontiac tranny,” Brayden scolded his younger brother when the broadcasters went to commercial.

Tanner
took a long pull of Brayden’s beer and swallowed. “I’ll be there in the morning.”

“Better be.
And get your own beer.”

“I’ll get it,” Violet offered and rose from her seat.

She left her brothers to glare at each other from across the living room. She couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t butting heads. The fact that they chose to work together at the shop was a mystery even to Violet.

She found her mother in the kitchen pulling a tray of cookies from the oven.
The kitchen was Janie James’ fortress where a home-cooked meal and a glass of two percent milk chased troubles away. Oatmeal cookies soothed heartaches and skinned knees and her mother’s secret recipe for chicken soup cured the common cold.

Violet
didn’t have to open the cupboards to know her mom had every spice and baking ingredient known to man. Janie James was a modern day June Cleaver. She prided herself in having four successful, if not semi-successful grown children, a spotlessly clean house and three square meals on her table each and every day. She had been the perfect hockey mom when Violet was growing up. Between shuttling her boys to hockey practice and Jeremy to music lessons, Janie had kept her hands full.

Unfortunately,
Violet was somewhat of a mystery to Janie. Much to her confusion, her only daughter had set out to prove that she could have a fulfilling life without PTA meetings and team mom snack duty.

Violet remembered a fight she’d had with her mother in high school where she called her mom old-fashioned. Janie had proudly defended herself and
proceeded to rant about how she’d worked tirelessly to provide Violet and her brothers with food on the table and clean clothes to wear to school. Since then, the two James women had agreed to disagree. Some times more loudly and hot-tempered than others.

She might not know exactly what she wanted in life
, but Violet knew for sure that she didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. One of the perks—probably the
only
perk—of getting engaged to Phillip was getting her mom off her back. It worked for a while until Janie started harping about grandchildren.

Violet’s
family was thrilled about her engagement to Phillip. Phillip had gone to high school with her brothers and they were still friends. When Phillip went away to med school, her brothers went to work at the family auto shop, James Auto Body. Violet’s parents absolutely adored Phillip—what mother wouldn’t love the idea of her daughter marrying a doctor?—and Violet couldn’t bear to disappoint them by voicing her doubts about her relationship with him.

“Hey, Mom
,” Violet said and walked over to inspect the chocolate cookies on the counter.

Janie’s graying brown hair was pulled back in a twist and she wore mom jeans and a cable knit sweater. The apron tied around her waist had pictures of hockey players printed on it in bright blue. Even though gray hair was usually determined by genetics, Janie blamed the gray on her four kids every chance she got.

“Violet!” Janie’s face spread into a smile and then she immediately looked over Violet’s shoulder. “Where’s Phillip?”