Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) (5 page)

He shrugged one shoulder, regarding her with half-lidded eyes. “Sure you should of. Are you afraid you’ll be fired for voicing your opinion and sticking up for your team?” He straightened and leaned in close to her, his face near hers, his pure male scent invading her senses and destroying her ability to think clearly.

“Something like that.” Lauren nodded, backing a few feet away from him because his male presence was every bit as powerful as that of any of the professional athletes she worked with on a daily basis. Actually, it was more dangerous because she wasn’t attracted to any of them. Not like this. She hadn’t felt this magnetic pull since Max.

Instead of following her, he adopted a casual pose, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning an elbow on a nearby cabinet. “Lauren, I’ll never hold honesty against you. I value that above all else and so do the people in the ownership group.”

Lauren studied him, unable to assess the level of bullshit he might be feeding her, if it was bullshit at all. “I don’t know you.”

“You will. We’ll be spending every waking hour together. You’ll learn to trust me. I only want what’s best for this team and the ownership group.”

Lauren didn’t completely buy what he was selling. He hadn’t earned her trust or her allegiance. He wasn’t being totally straight with her, and she knew it. Only fools put their trust in a man who didn’t speak the truth, but only a portion of it. “Fine, if you mean what you say, you’ll listen to me next time and stay out of the locker room.”

Ethan opened his mouth to argue then snapped it shut, as if he’d decided to concede that point to her. He chuckled and grinned, a completely disarming grin which left her wondering who was the real Ethan, the hard-nosed, hard-charging businessman or the handsome charmer. She’d rather deal with the businessman because she was too vulnerable to the charmer. “I’ll defer to your better judgment next time.”

“Thank you.” Lauren fought hard to keep the smugness out of her voice. Her daddy had taught her never to be a cocky winner. More often than not, that type of behavior would come back to bite her.

“You’re welcome. Let’s get some coffee. I’d like to discuss the game.”

Several minutes later they sat in a sports bar near the hotel, sipping coffee and comparing notes. Ethan didn’t say much, but he certainly listened to every word she said, making notes on his iPad, as he asked insightful questions about every player on the team. Lauren kept her comments positive and criticisms to a minimum.

Finally she sat back and wrapped her hands around her second mug of strong, black coffee. “Tell me what
you
think.”

“I’m not a hockey guy, remember?” One corner of his mouth kicked up in a decidedly sexy half smile.

“You’re into sports, correct?”

He nodded. “I played some football and baseball in my day.”

She looked him up and down, pondering what position he might have played. Being tall but lean and definitely preferring to be in charge, she guessed immediately. “Quarterback?”

“Which of my sterling qualities gave that away?” He sat back, enjoying himself, and signaled the waitress for a beer, as if to indicate the business portion of the evening was over. “What’ll you have?”

“I’ll take a pale ale. Whatever’s on tap.”

Ethan nodded to the waitress, who hurried off to fill their order. “So which of my many qualities clued you in?” Apparently, he wasn’t letting her off that easily.

“Total honesty?”

“Absolutely.” He was way too amused.

“Your stubbornness, your absolute belief you know best, and your need to take charge.”

“Fair enough.” Ethan thanked the waitress as she delivered the drinks.

“A quarterback is like a center on a hockey team. A good athlete is a good athlete whether he’s on skates, throwing a football, or hitting a baseball.” Lauren sipped the cold brew, savoring the taste as it slid down her throat. She loved a good beer.

“My thoughts exactly. But each sport requires different talents.”

“You don’t think you could take an outstanding football player and turn him into a hockey player?”

“I’m guessing I could.” He shrugged. “If I were a hockey guy.”

“Touché,” Lauren snorted and took a long pull on the cold beer.

Ethan raised his beer to her in a friendly salute, his blue eyes shining with pure mischief. God, he was incredible. Absolutely incredible and so unlike any other guy she’d ever hung out with.

Lauren enjoyed their current conversation too much to drop it. “Look at Cooper for instance. He’s our team captain, a take-charge guy, big enough to intimidate and fast on his skates. There’s no one faster. He could’ve played other sports but he chose hockey.”

Ethan rubbed his chin. “Or hockey chose him.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you have the passion, it chooses you. You can’t stop it any more than you can stop breathing. If you’re one of the lucky ones, you take that passion to its highest level. If you’re not, you become a fan, and you live through those guys in the rink or on the field.”

“Spoken like a man with a true passion.” She stared at him, feeling as if she’d just been given some insight into him, even as she rejected what he was not-so subtly telling her. “And hockey is your passion?”

“Sports are my passion. Purely as a spectator. Of course, as you continue to point out, I didn’t grow up with a stick in my hands, and I have a lot to learn. That’s where you come in.”

Lauren absorbed this information as reality dawned on her. “They’re going to make a spot for you in their organization, aren’t they?”

The smile wavered on his face and those shutters dropped over his eyes. “It’s possible. Nothing is off the table.”

“You aren’t just gathering information for potential owners, you’re building your resume.”

He relaxed against the back of the booth and rubbed his stubbled chin. The man didn’t appear to own a razor, and it was sexy as hell. “Lauren, a savvy businessman is always looking over the horizon for the next challenge.”

She didn’t bat an eye, just studied him and wished she could read his thoughts. “Lots of savvy businessmen don’t care who they step on to get what they want.”

“I won’t lie to you. I’ve been accused of that a time or two.”

“And in this situation?”

“I want what’s best for the team and the potential ownership.” He stared her in the eyes, and for the first time, she knew he was being one-hundred-percent honest with her.

“Why come across as someone who doesn’t know hockey when you’re a fan?”

“I never said I didn’t know hockey, never said I wasn’t a fan. You made those assumptions, not me.” He almost smiled. She hated it when he smiled because it changed the hard lines of his face and sucked her deeper into this spell he’d woven around her.

“You got me there,” she conceded.

“I don’t have an insider’s knowledge, and that’s where you come in.”

“Okay.” She hedged, unsure she wanted to be his insider, depending on what he did with that info.

“Lauren, whatever happens, getting the Sleezers out of the league will be the best thing that could ever happen to this team, short of winning the Cup.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Back when Mr. Sleezer was alive, things weren’t so bad, even though the guy was a cheap bastard, but his sons didn’t have their father’s work ethic or business savvy. None of the good free agents wanted to play for the Sleezers, unless they broke the bank on their contract offer, and the Sleezers wouldn’t do that. It’d cut into their play money. As a result, the team had to use home-grown talent and draft picks to field a decent team. Cooper Black, their star, could’ve gone elsewhere over the years, but he stayed out of loyalty to the city, the management, and the team, and in spite of the Sleezers. At least he’d been lucky enough to sign a pretty lucrative seven-year deal just before the old man died, making him a free agent after next season. The sons would’ve never paid their top player that well.

“I need you, Lauren,” Ethan implored, and his quiet voice sent chills through her. As if to drive home his point, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, his sky-blue eyes shining with the intensity of a man on a mission. For a moment, Lauren savored the feel of her hand in his. He ran his calloused thumb in small circles around her palm, and she suppressed a shudder. His eyes held hers and wouldn’t let her go.

“Do you want another beer?”

The waitress’s comment snapped Lauren from her dangerous thoughts and back to solid ground. She yanked her hand away.

“No, we’ll take the bill.” Ethan paused and sent a questioning look Lauren’s way. “Unless you’d like another one?”

Lauren shot to her feet. “No, no, thanks. I need to go.”

Before he could respond, she scurried away like a scared little mouse, so unlike her. She could mix it up with the roughest, toughest male but this secretive businessman sent her spinning into the boards.

She glanced over her shoulder. He was staring after her, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Lauren got the hell out of there. She’d been swept along by the sheer force of his charisma. That just would not be tolerated. Today, tomorrow, or any day in between.

* * * *

“What a dick.” Cooper growled, in a fucking bad mood after the playoff loss, and that asshole Williams invading their locker room as if he had a right pretty much drove Cooper into enforcer mode.

“So? He’s a dick. We’ve worked for dicks most of our professional career. What’s changed?” Cedric, his roommate on road trips, stretched on his hotel room bed and tapped out a text, most likely to one of the hordes of puck bunnies who followed him wherever he went.

“I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust any of them, but they don’t pay me to trust them. I ignore all that management bullshit. You should, too.”

“I just want to play hockey.”

Cedric snorted. “If only it were that simple, my friend.”

“What’s his story with Lauren?”

“Why do you always look for ulterior motives. She’s working with him, as mandated by the league, simple as that. Hell, haven’t you noticed how the good ol’ boys’ club who runs this team treats her like a glorified secretary and never gives her credit for anything?”

“Yeah, it fucking pisses me off. She might be a woman, but she knows her hockey.”

“Well, Ethan seems to listen to her.”

“You’ve noticed that?”

“I notice everything. Nothing gets past these eagle eyes.” Cedric leaned back against a stack of pillows, flipping through channels.

“And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

Cedric chucked a pillow at him and pegged him in the head. “Better work on your reflexes, Coop, or Dog will nail your ass in the next game.” Dog Colphan was Montreal’s enforcer, and he seemed to have a personal grudge against Cooper, but then most guys like him did. Cooper was that good.

Cooper threw a pillow at Cedric which glanced off his shoulder and launched a flurry of pillows around the room, but the flying pillows were interrupted by pounding. Loud pounding. That incessant pounding on the door could only mean one thing.

Cooper sighed and opened the door before the jerk woke the entire floor. Brick, their goalie, strutted in, holding a pizza box high over his head and followed by his partner in crime Alex Markov, known as Rush by all his teammates. The two young guys couldn’t possibly go to sleep like the rest of the team. Brick sat the box down on the small table in the room with a flourish and a bow.

Cooper rolled his eyes, but Cedric dove for the pizza, kicking pillows out of his way as he did so. He hefted a huge slice in each big hand.

“Don’t you fuckheads know we have a curfew?” Cooper pointed out, even though it was pointless. They listened to him on the ice, but not so much off it. At least they weren’t out drinking and hitting on women or even worse, getting in fights. Thank the hockey gods for small favors.

“We are hungry.” Alex spoke with a thick Russian accent and rubbed his flat stomach to emphasize his words.

“What better place to break curfew than in the captain’s room?” Brick grabbed a piece and slouched in a chair, propping his huge feet on the edge of Cooper’s bed. The kid wore nothing but a pair of shorts. Along with the bare feet, this was his usual mode of dress everywhere but on the rink. He hated clothes and loved Florida because he could get away with wearing minimal clothing. Coop wasn’t sure how Brick had ever survived growing up in rainy and cold Vancouver, BC.

Cooper sighed. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about with the pending sale of the Giants and his suspicions that all was not what it seemed, but he had to ride herd on these clowns. It was enough to make a man consider early retirement.

Not that Cooper would ever consider that an option.

Not until he skated around the arena with the Cup hoisted high over his head.

Chapter 4—Clipping

Ethan stood looking out the window of his hotel room at the city lights. Only he didn’t see them, not really. He should be thinking hockey; instead Lauren occupied his thoughts. What had possessed him to grab her hand while they sat in the bar and hang onto it? He’d lost his flipping mind and then some. It’d been a spontaneous gesture, and he was so not a spontaneous person. He practiced cold logic and dealt in facts, big picture facts, not spontaneity. But Lauren brought out something in him, something disturbing, exciting, and wrong—so very wrong because whether she knew it or not, he
was
her boss, and he’d been down this very wrong road once before.

Even worse, he’d told her too much, but something about her, despite her distrust of him, drew him in and made him open his mouth. Her suspicious gaze cut right through him, as if she saw through all the bullshit, and Ethan hated bullshitting her, but nothing could be done about it. Unless he walked away and didn’t emerge until after the team finished its season. Only that wasn’t the way he rolled. He was too hands-on, too anxious to get a handle on what he had and didn’t have. He was several steps behind the league’s other owners, and he was sprinting to catch up.

Ethan sat back and rubbed the back of his neck. He stretched and stood, walking around the modest hotel suite. The team had the day off tomorrow and played another game in Montreal on Friday, before flying home for the third of seven playoff games in the first round. The league played a best of seven series with four rounds before the final two teams played for the big prize—the Stanley Cup. There wasn’t a more coveted prize in all of hockey and in Ethan’s opinion, all of sports.