Tricky Puck: a Fake Fiancee Hockey Rom-Com (Portsmouth Whalers Hockey Romance)

Chapter 15

Shoving through the locker room door, I shake it off. It’s quiet in here and I don’t see anyone, so I call out.

“Link in the house. Hide your sisters.” One of the guys on my last team thought it was funny to get me riled up with, but what he didn’t know was that I’d like it.

Delaney doesn’t know how right she is to think of me as a pirate—though more in the style of Robinhood. I steal the gold for good and all the wenches come to me willingly. And the only one in danger of walking the plank is me.

Sabien comes around the corner with a slice of crispy bacon hanging from his mouth.

“I thought I heard you.” He’s grinning and half-dressed in his practice gear to take the ice for our morning pre-game skate. It’s strictly for warming up—and to give Dugan an extra ride around the ice on the Zamboni according to him.

“Why am I not surprise you’re here obscenely early,” I say to Sabe. He’s taken his role as Captain of the team seriously enough to change his entire lifestyle—so much so that almost overnight he’s started a fucking family to prove it.

As the rest of the guys file into the locker room, they give me shit. I respond as usual with either a grunt or my middle finger. When I finish lacing my skates, I head to the ice to impress coach. Sabien follows me.

Coach Spence stands at the gate with his eyes on his tablet. He nods as we jump onto the ice and skate, automatically racing to outdo each other.

Drills are brutal. My shirt is soaked through to my jersey and I feel like puking. My legs cramp as I step off the ice onto the rubber with only Sabe behind me as last man off the ice. I concede the honor only because he’s team captain.

Jason is shocked when I tell him I’m going back out there.

“What are you doing sitting there. Take your shower and let’s get going.”

“I’m not showering—not yet. I’m going back out on the ice, staying for shooting practice,”

“Shooting at an empty net? Are you sick?”

“I’m committed.”

“You should be committed.” He heads for the showers shaking his head.

I change out my jersey and under armor for dry ones and head back out to the ice, letting Dugan know to leave the lights on.

Halfway through my bucket of pucks, I spot Jason hanging around the boards fully dressed watching me.

“Coach has gone home. Who are you trying to impress now? I’m the only one left and I know where your skeletons are buried so it’s no use trying to impress me.” I skate by him and wink.

“No one in their right mind is here,” he shouts.

I flip him the finger, but with my gloves on the gesture is lost in translation. He laughs because he gets it.

“Call me when you’re finished torturing yourself.”

An hour later,I’m in the locker room dressing after a thorough shower when my phone pings. I’m prepared to tell Jason I’m on my way when I see it’s grandma. A ripple of nerves tenses me, and that’s fucking messed up because I should be smiling the way I always have when I hear from her.

“Grandma, what’s up?” I manage to sound happy, and as soon as I hear her voice, I relax.

“We’re coming up for a visit. How’s that for what’s up?” I can feel the joy bubbling from her and it’s contagious.

“That’s awesome. Who’s coming and when?”

“We’re all coming up for the matinee game on Saturday.”

“The day after tomorrow?” Shit. I’ll need to get Delaney here in a hurry.

“Yes. We can’t wait to meet your girl Delaney. The whole family is coming up, even Rose. I’m so excited, Lincoln. You have no idea how happy you’re making me. Can you get us tickets?”

I struggle to come up with a reply as guilt stings my rusty conscience to life. “Rose is coming? Doesn’t she have a game or something better to do at UNH?”

“She’s the most anxious of all to meet your new girlfriend. I think she’s worried about you. Besides, her season doesn’t start until November. You know that.”

“So that makes six tickets?—”

“Make it a dozen.”

“A dozen tickets?”

“Did I mention Delaney’s family is coming up too? Her Grandmother Bernadette and her four Uncles and one Aunt will be coming up.” She lowers her voice with all the enthusiasm gone and adds, “Her parents can’t make it because they’re working. Poor girl.”

My mind explodes. Fuck. My life is officially messed up—and my girlfriend isn’t even for real. Meanwhile I need to figure out how to pull this off because I’m not totally sure Delaney will come to the game even if I drive up north to pick her up. And then I’ll need her to stay over. Shit. She made it clear last time that our deal wouldn’t work if we continued to play in bed.

“Is there a problem, Link honey?”

“No. No problem... Your tickets will be waiting. We’ll have dinner after the game.”

“I thought we could see you before the game.”

“I don’t know grandma. I’ll be tied up. With the team and preparations.” I lie and I immediately feel the stab of guilt for telling yet another lie to my grandma, the one woman in my life who deserves nothing but my best—and that includes the truth.

But I threw the truth out the window when I said I was dating Delaney. Because I’m not. If I told grandma I was sleeping with her but had no intentions of having a serious relationship, that I was not courting her with the intentions of getting married--to put it in her terms, she would be worse than disappointed with me.

She would be heartbroken and worried about me ending up a lonely bachelor like her brother, Great Uncle Link, my namesake. I never met him because he died before I was born, but I’m told I’m a lot like him and I think that scares the shit out of Grandma. They were close even though he was ten years older than her. He took care of her like a parent growing up because they’d lost their parents when she was five and she adored him.

“Don’t you want to introduce Delaney before she has to sit with us at the game.”

“You’re right. I’ll figure it out. I’ll meet you at the friends and family lounge before the game.”

We end the conversation with our usual declarations of love, but it doesn’t feel right.

“Before you hang up, Grandma, can I ask you something?” I don’t pause to let her answer me. “Why is it so important to you that I settle down now?” The lump of fear bounces in my throat as I hold my breath for her answer to the bravest question I’ve ever asked anyone. I can’t stand the idea that she might be dying and as hard as it would be, I need to know.

“Because I love you, my bambino, and I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to waste your life away before it’s too late.” She coughs and I flinch, but she adds, “Now let me go and share the good news about you and Delaney getting on so well.”

We end the call and I can’t rid myself of the notion that she’s sick, or maybe she’s worried about me because of her brother. I think she blames herself for his so-called lonely bachelor’s life and premature death. But from the stories I heard, he had a grand time and a full life.

I sit and breathe deeply for a few minutes to process the implications of the family visit, but my head is too distracted.

“Grandma is fine. She would tell me if she wasn’t.” I say this out loud to the empty cavernous locker room. And there was nothing wrong with my great uncle Link’s life. He did well for himself becoming an accountant and starting his own CPA firm. It worked out for the best, didn’t it? He ended up leaving all his money to his younger sister, my grandma.

Since I have three younger sisters to worry about, it’s lucky for them I’m a hockey player and not an accountant. As well as Great Uncle Link did for himself, I’m doing a hell of a lot better. And I plan to keep it that way. Hockey’s been good to me, but I’m just getting started. No distraction—like Delaney Collins—is going to ruin all that.

I pick up my phone and call Jason. Grandma means well, but she doesn’t get that her brother’s life worked out for the best, for him, and especially for her.

He picks up. “Where the hell are you? We’re out at the Hole in the Wall.”

“Who’s we?”

“Tina’s here with a few of her friends and a couple of the rookies.”

“I’m not going to make it. I have some things to do.”

“Like what?”

“I need to make a phone call and then I plan to get to bed early.”

“Early? What the hell? We have tomorrow off. Wait, don’t tell me you’re calling Delaney, and you plan to take your time?—”

“Don’t read too much into it, Jason. You don’t need me to have a good time. You have Tina with you, right?”

“Sure. But you know it’s not like that with me and Tina.”

“Whatever you say. Later.”

When I get homeI call Delaney and tell her about Grandma’s surprise plan for both our families ar coming up for the game on Saturday. “Looks like your presence at the game is a command performance.”

She snorts. “Guess so. Only problem is my car is in the shop and?—”

“Then I guess I’m coming to pick you up?—”

“And I have no water at the cabin and it’s freezing because I can’t get the crazy pellet stove to work.” She sounds unusually flustered and I jump in to calm her.

“Don’t worry, hot pants. I’ll be there by noon to get you.”

“Shit. I suppose I have no choice.”

“You’re welcome. Have I ever mentioned how much I admire your gracious nature?”

She laughs. “No fair, hockey for brains. Sarcasm is my jam. You can’t steal my jam.”

I laugh at the hockey-for-brains shade because it’s what I’m aiming for. No way will I admit to anyone it’s becoming a struggle to concentrate on hockey. Not even to myself.

Juiced on coffee,I leave in the early morning dark and head to Sugar Hill on my rescue mission. I need to make it back in time for an afternoon nap and try to keep to my routine as much as possible with Delaney in the house.

Shit. She’ll be there with me all night and in the morning before the game.

Maybe I can lock her in a closet—or lock myself in a closet.

But I settle to locking down any thoughts about us together. Cranking up the music works until I pull up the dirt road to the cabin and find an extra car in the driveway.

I hear her shouting and a man’s response before I open the door. All my muscles tense up and adrenaline mixed with my Delaney-induced hormones kick up driving my thundering heart to my throat, priming me to kick some unlucky dude’s ass.

Good sense tells me to calm down and find out what’s going on, but when I open the door and see Delaney with her hands on her hips glaring at George her asshole ex-boss, my head explodes and I instantly go into kick-ass-now-and-ask-questions-later mode

Rage fueled by my pounding heart drives me forward and I grab George by the back of his shirt and spin him around, catching him off. For a split second our eyes connect, then I punch his surprised face, my knuckles catching his cheek bone and slamming his eye socket with enough force to knock him down, but not out.

Delaney, with her hands still on her hips, stares at me with her mouth open, disbelief on her face, crowding out whatever else is on her mind.

I step around George and rush to her. “Are you okay?”

“What the hell are you doing, Milano?” She shakes my hand loose from her arm.

Before I have a chance to say anymore—not that I know what to say because my mind is barely functional with all the adrenaline and hormones swirling at full tilt—George grabs me from behind, attempting to spin me around the way I did to him.

The only problem for him with that is that I outweigh him by fifty pounds of muscle. I turn and push him aside, but the fucker is quick and he gets in an uppercut, his fist glancing off my mouth. Shit.

This is a real fight. We square off and start throwing more punches at each other and both end up on the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Delaney says as she watches, not bothering to try and stop us. I finally extricate myself and stand over him, ready to punch him again if he shows signs of getting back up.

“Stay where you are,” Delaney tells George.

Then she goes to the kitchen and comes out of the kitchen with two towels wrapped around ice and tosses them at each of us. I put the cold wet towel to my mouth while I catch my breath and try to slow down my pounding heart. The wild tide of adrenaline starts to recede.

“Why did you punch George for no reason?” Delaney asks me like she’s asking about the weather, seemingly unphased. But I see the bravado for what it is. Her voice is slightly higher pitched than normal and she’s staring at me like she’s thinking of running.

Fuck.I drag in a long breath.

“It wasn’t for no reason—” I pause when I see her look past me, her face turning wary. I spin around, half expecting to see George ready to attack, except he’s still on the floor sitting up, nursing his eye with the towel of ice.

“Who the hell are you?” I say to the guy standing in the doorway. He’s holding a fucking phone up like he was taking pictures.

George looks up and says, “That’s my handyman.”

“Why does he have his phone out like he’s taking pictures?”

George gets up and stands in front of Delaney, which shouldn’t bother me, but it flicks a sore spot and jealousy flares up.

I tamp it down and turn back to the handyman who could be a more immediate threat and stare him down. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing? I’m here to fix the plumbing and I find you beating up my friend George so I called the Sherriff.”

“You what?” I shout. Delaney jumps to my side, gripping my arm. The instant calm shocks the shit out of me.

“You didn’t?” George says. “He wasn’t beating me up. I was holding my own.”

“Why are you taking pictures?” Delaney says as she drops my arm and marches forward to the guy. He doesn’t have a chance to answer before snatches the phone from his hand.

“Hey, lady, you can’t take that.” He grabs it back from her and knocks her against the wall in the process.

I toss the ice and leap at him, grabbing him by the collar. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her again.” Holding onto the guy, I turn to Delaney. “You okay?”

She nods.

“Shit, what are you doing, Dennis?” George says to his handyman as he scrambles to stand next to me. “You’re out of control.”

I loosen my grip on Dennis’s flannel shirt, but I don’t let go. Glancing at George, I notice the shiner turning deep purple around his right eye and smile in satisfaction.

A grin is about to pop on my face, but it never has a chance because the sound of a siren pierces the air.

“Is that the police?” Delaney says. She puts a hand on my arm again and tugs as she glares at Dennis the handyman. “You really called the fucking police?”

“There was a fight—and this guy—he’s out of control.” Dennis pulls from my grip and backs away, his eyes darting between me and Delaney.

“You’re out of control, Dennis,” George says. “That fight was nothing, it was personal business.”

“Did you take photos?” I ask quietly, taking a step forward as I listen to the siren getting louder and wonder if there’s somewhere I can hide because I will be in so much trouble if this turns into something.

Dennis nods. George puts his hand out. “Give me the phone. You can’t keep those photos.”

The Sherriff’s car screeches to a stop behind my SUV and a tall man with his gun drawn leaps from the door and shouts at us to put our hands where he can see them. The door’s wide open so he’s getting a good look at the situation. I swipe at the blood I can taste on my lip.

George grabs Dennis’s phone. “Keep your big mouth shut,” he says in a low growl and I’m starting to like this guy. “Do you know who this is?” He points to me.

Dennis shakes his head.

“Stand back,” the Sherriff shouts. “Step away from each other and keep your hands where I can see them. Whose cabin is this?”

George and Delaney both speak up at the same time.

“It’s his cabin, but I’m staying here for a few months,” she says, cool as ice.

The Sherriff lowers his weapon, thank fuck and I keep my mouth shut, hoping Dennis the handyman will do the same.

“Who called this in?”

“I did. When I got here?—”

Fuck. “It was all a misunderstanding,” I say. “Dennis didn’t know George and I are friends?—”

“You were beating the snot out of him when I showed up.”

I glare at him, my jaw clenched in place.

“I can explain it all,” Delaney says, smiling at the Sherriff. He turns to her and nods his head, welcoming her explanation. Some of my tension releases, but I still don’t trust Dennis. Thank fuck George has his phone with those photos. I hope to hell he has a chance to delete them.

“You see George, my landlord, came up here from New York to get my plumbing fixed and Link didn’t realize who he was at first and thought he was a burglar, so they shoved each other around a bit before they realized the mistake. A complete misunderstanding on Dennis’s part.” She gives the poor innocent Sherriff the full brilliant wattage of her electric blue eyes and sexy as hell smile.

“Alright.” He clears his throat and turns to Dennis. “It looks like you weren’t involved in the altercation.”

Dennis shakes his head. “No, but he took my phone.” He points to George.

“You had no right to take those photos,” George says.

“Give him his phone back,” the Sherriff says. “He was invited here by you, wasn’t he?”

George reluctantly agrees and the Sherriff relieves him of the phone, handing it back to Dennis. “I suggest you get on your way.”

After the Sherriff and Dennis the handyman leave, I should sigh in relief, but the threat of those pictures out there coils the muscles in my shoulders tightly.

“You need to call Dennis and ask him to delete those photos. What do you think the chances are he’ll cooperate?” I look at George.

“No idea. I don’t know him very well. He’s a local guy. I see him around town when I’m up here. “

Delaney says, “Good news is he doesn’t know who you are, so don’t worry, Link. Nothing will come of it.”

I let out a deep breath. “You’re probably right.”

“Bad news is I won’t be getting my plumbing fixed any time soon.” She gives me her smirky smile, the one that perks up my dick every time—including right now.

“You’re coming back with me. To stay.” I stare at her wondering what the hell I’m talking about. But I know it’s my dick talking.

“I’m going to your game. I’ll stay one night, then?—”

“Then what, Delaney? You’re going to get an Uber all the way back from Portsmouth and when you get here, you have no car, no water and not enough heat?” I dart an accusing glare at George.

“I’ll eventually get everything fixed,” he says. “In the meantime, you can come back to New York with me?—”

“I don’t believe you two.” She darts an exasperated glance between u. “You think you need to jump in and rescue me? Well I have some fucking news for you—I don’t need rescuing. I’m going to call an Uber and go to a hotel.”

I almost laugh, but she looks seriously pissed. “Good luck with that.” I smirk, knowing full well I’m instigating. She narrows her eyes at me until it slowly dawns on her that I’ve got her going.

“You’re such a smug?—”

“Hockey player?” I finish for her, moving close. “You know you can’t miss the game tomorrow. Your Granny would be very disappointed.”

“I can’t believe you’re pulling the grandmother card?—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” George says, picking up his ice-filled towel off the floor and holding it over his black eye that’s now swollen shut. “This sucker is throbbing. You got any Advil?”

I nod and take my wallet out, slipping the small packet of Advil from it and flipping it to him.

“Thanks. You’re a regular boy scout, always prepared.”

“I’m never without it. Comes in handy after games.”

George nods. Delaney rolls her eyes then gives me one of those blue-eyed stares like only she can, where she’s looking deep down for something and I wish I knew what it was.

“I’ll go for the game, Milano, but I’m not staying.”

George says, “I think you should stay with him in Portsmouth, Delaney.”

A glance at Delaney tells me she’s as shocked as I am.

George adds, “You can’t stay at the cabin. It’s going to take a while for the plumbing to get fixed.”

I say, “What about it, hot pants?” I smile at her cringe and hold her eyes in a stare. It’s another one of those who-blinks-first battles that I’m determined to win.

Convincing her to stay with me is irrational as hell because I don’t want her to live with me. But I can’t leave her in the cabin with no water and I doubt she can afford a hotel for the duration.

I could pay for her hotel, but she’d never let me.

“You have no choice, Delaney. Not if you’re sticking with our deal.”

She lets out a long breath. “I should be angry with you about this deal.” She darts her eyes in George’s direction and he looks curious as hell but he keeps his mouth shut.

Delaney goes on, “But I can’t. There’s a good reason why we’re in this mess of a…” she waves her hands. I exchange a glance with George and he’s looking at us like he’s watching a soap opera. Damn I hate melodrama.

“I know.” I reach out and haul her into me for a hug, not to kiss her or ravage her or drag her into bed, but just to comfort her—and myself.

“We need to get going because it’s a long drive and I need my sleep tonight. I can’t be late tomorrow or Coach Spence will have my ass.”

George snorts. “He’s a tough guy I hear.”

Taking another look at him, I see him as a regular guy, a hockey fan, not a potential rival or the jerk who fired Delaney.

“You’re a hockey fan.”

He nods. “Sure. I carry the NHL network at the bar. I manage to catch more games than the average fanatic. The Whalers have a good team. You’re contenders.” He pauses a beat and shrugs. “You’re alright. She could do worse.”