Another Powerplay (Wildcatters Hockey)

Prologue

Cormac

“So, we’re agreed?” I asked. “We’re moving forward with the plan to fix Cruz’s relationship with the nurse from San Francisco?”

“Her name is Vivian,” Naese said. “And he met her last summer. From what Hana told me, they really hit it off, but then Cruz shut it down.”

It was early February, and we were gearing up, as our season seemed poised to transition into a playoff run. Our current record gave us a strong shot for the Stanley Cup, and we had gathered at my house today to strategize about changing up our play and our lines to maximize health and scoring potential. And eventually, we would get to that all-important tactical meeting. But I’d asked the core group of our team, my best friends, to come over early so we could sort out Cruz’s love life.

He'd played with the tenacity we expected from him this season, just sometimes with too much fervor—unusual for one of the steadiest men on the team. And he’d seemed defeated since Naese had announced his plan to marry Hana, which he’d now done. No one liked Cruz’s current funk, so we’d decided to solve the problem.

I studied the intense faces of my teammates Maxim Dolov, Luka Stol, and Paxton Naese, and coaches Kramer and Whittaker, as they considered my question, sprawled on a semi-circle of three large sofas in front of the fireplace I’d never used. Above it hung a large, flat-screen TV playing the sports station, muted. They were all big men. Our head coach, Silas Whittaker, was graying a little at the temples, but he, like the rest of my teammates, was of powerful build.

As I waited for a response, I picked up my glass—fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice and sparkling water—and took a long, refreshing drink. The rest of the guys had sports drinks or fresh-squeezed orange juice. We were all pretty good about our diets, particularly when our coaches were in the room with us.

I’d invited Coach Whittaker to this meeting because he likely knew Cruz’s history the best, though none of us was particularly well-versed in it. While Cruz was great about helping all of us with our lives, he rarely gave details about his, the shit bag.

But we were changing that—and we were going to help him.

After a moment, the heads all nodded, their lips pressed together in firm commitment.

“You won’t tell the ladies?” I asked, using my stern, team-captain voice.

This caused Naese, Maxim, Stolly, and Coach Adam Kramer—still weird to call him that since he’d been my teammate for so long—to falter. Their gazes dropped to their clasped hands or out the window as they shifted.

“I don’t like keeping secrets from Naomi,” Coach Kramer said, his brows tugging lower. “It’s a huge deal in our relationship, and I won’t intentionally break her trust.”

I nodded. “I get that, and I’m with you. Normally . But we found this woman for Cruz?—"

“ We didn’t do shit. I did,” Naese said, narrowing his eyes.

“And I’m the one he’s talked to about her for months now,” I shot back. “I’m the one who found him all mopey at your wedding a couple of weeks ago and realized he’s totally in love with her. Granted, she doesn’t understand how he feels about her, but we do, and that’s why we’re using this information, and our closeness to Cruz, to make sure we close this deal for him.”

“He’s mentioned her to me, too,” Coach Whittaker said. That wasn’t surprising. Coach was like an older brother for the veterans on the team. I’d gone to him for advice more than once.

“Me, too,” Coach Kramer added. “You know, I don’t think he realizes how much he’s talked about her.”

“Which is why we have to fix this,” I stressed. “He’s not the same Cruiser, and I—we—want our guy back.”

“He’s playing with more anger,” Stolly said. “I watched the film again to make sure. He does his job, and does it really well, but when it came time to let the gloves fly, well, you saw.”

“I think so, too,” I said, glancing over at Coach.

He didn’t say anything. If he knew more, which I’d bet he did, he wasn’t going to break Cruz’s trust by telling us why our best D-man was throwing too many punches.

“You think he got another concussion?” Maxim asked. His scowl appeared frightening, but that was Maxim: intense. He and Cruz were our first line D-men, and Maxim was protective. Almost as protective as Cruz.

The rest of the players looked toward Coach Whittaker. He compressed his lips. “He hasn’t had a concussion this season.”

I raised an eyebrow. Coach was dancing around the answer. “But in the off season?” I pressed.

Coach hesitated again. “There was an incident.”

“And that incident included a concussion,” Maxim concluded. “As bad as he had a few years back?”

We all shifted, likely remembering the hard hit that had caused Cruz to crumple to the ice during an early season game the Wildcatters’ first year in the league. He’d seemed okay at first, even been able to give all the pertinent information to prove he was okay—but he wasn’t. The next few hours had been surreal as he’d faded in and out of reality, sometimes thinking he was back when he’d found out his brother Ruben had been killed in action. I shuddered.

“Did he hallucinate this time?” Stolly asked. He grimaced. “Fuck, that was scary. I didn’t know how to help him.”

“None of us did,” I said. “So it’s a very good thing our team doctor’s a leading expert on head trauma.”

“That makes two concussions in his career,” Coach Kramer said. “That I know of. How worried are we?”

Coach Whittaker smoothed a hand over his trousers. “Concerned enough to have had a conversation. He said he didn’t hallucinate the last time.”

“And you believe him?” Maxim asked.

Coach hesitated. “I’m not sure…”

“That’s why you’re here,” I realized. “You know something about Cruz that we don’t, and you think it’s important we know.”

He didn’t say anything, but with Coach that was basically an admission.

“Well, hell,” Naese muttered. “That makes the situation even stickier.”

“And more important to sort out,” I said.

“Vivian’s a nurse,” Maxim said. “She can keep an eye on Cruz’s noggin.”

“Which leads back to our original plan,” I said smoothly. “And not telling our wives so we can finally get credit for one of these marriages.”

“Hold on, we gotta get them together first,” Coach Kramer said.

“And make sure they fit,” Maxim said.

“I told you, they fit,” Naese grumbled.

“Be that as it may, I don’t like the idea of lying, even by omission, to Millie,” Stolly said. “She deserves my respect.”

“Which you give her every day,” Maxim rumbled with a smirk. Millie and Maxim’s wife, Ida Jane, were close, so those two had become closer as well.

“Are we sure this’ll work?” Coach Kramer asked. “I don’t want my first time matchmaking to crash and burn. Because then it’ll be my last, and worse, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

There were grumbles and nods. I gritted my teeth at their insecure need for a sure thing. Life wasn’t a sure thing. But I did know deep in my bones that Cruz was the best of us, and he deserved to be happy as much as any of the guys in this room.

“We’re not going to fail,” I said with a confidence I was no longer feeling. “Look. We all agreed that we need to show our wives we can be just as effective at love and romance as they are. And each of you has mentioned that their bragging is getting out of control.”

“It’s the gloating,” Coach Kramer said on a sigh. “Can’t stand that shit.”

“The tone of their victory,” Stolly grumbled in agreement.

There were many nods and shifting once again. The ladies’ crowing was a live nerve.

“So we move forward with the game plan, which includes not telling the wives, unless one of them asks us straight out,” I said with a glance over at Coach for support.

He’d crossed his arms over his powerful chest and stretched out his legs, stacking his argyle-clad ankles. “Don’t look at me. I don’t like the idea of keeping something from Paloma any more than Kramer wants to keep something from Naomi.”

“But…but…we agreed we were going to be the ones to set up Cruz,” I said. A flutter of something like betrayal stirred in my gut.

“Oh, we will,” Maxim said, leaning forward. “Naese said she’s perfect for Cruz. I looked her up, and she is. Really pretty in that kid-next-door way. She walks dogs in her free time.” He shook his head. “And she knits. On purpose.”

I tucked my lips into my mouth, amused as always that Maxim got most but not quite all of the American idiom correct.

“She has the faintest of freckles on her nose,” Naese said, wiggling his fingers over his own. “They’re adorable . She’s basically his every fantasy.” He leaned back, a cat-with-cream grin spreading on his face. “And he talks about her all. The. Time.”

“But if Hana asked you if you were actively working to set Cruz up, would you tell her?” Coach Kramer asked.

“Fuck, yes,” Naese said without the slightest hesitation. I had to respect him for that. “Like you guys said, I’m not going to lie to her. Lies have no place in our relationship.”

Naese’s father had lied to him about Hana, which had nearly destroyed their chance at a relationship. If anyone would be against lies, it was Naese.

Coach Kramer gave a nod of approval.

“You guys! The wives take credit for every one of our relationships. I want this one.” I slammed my fist on my knee to emphasize the point. “And we deserve it.”

“Then you better work fast, because Millie and Ida Jane told Paloma they’re crafting some plan with Keelie, Hana, and Naomi to get Vivian out here,” Coach said as he settled deeper into his chair. “They also think Vivian and Cruz should be together. And that’s based on Hana’s insider knowledge about Vivian’s feelings for Cruz. Plus, Hana knows the story of how they met.”

“What? No,” Maxim said. “Ida Jane said nothing of this to me.”

“They’re taking our plan and enacting it?” Stol gasped. He tugged on his lower lip. “That’s pretty smart. I mean, we all know it’s a good plan.”

“Yeah, but I was the one who realized Vivian’s perfect for Cruz,” Naese said with a pout. “I feel like they’re cheating.”

“They are,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, we’d use any advantage against our opponents that we could?—”

“Ethically,” Coach Whittaker added firmly.

“Of course ethically.” I scowled at him, and he nodded. All right, we were on the same page. “Still, we can’t let them win this one.” I shook my head. “The gloating would be insane.”

“This is true,” Maxim said, squinting with thought. “And it appears that they have failed to mention their idea of bringing Vivian for a visit. I do not like this…lapse in their honesty.”

“Have you noticed that our wives are all competitive?” Coach Kramer asked. He leaned back against the couch, hands tucked behind his head. “They may not be as obvious about the need to win as we are, but those ladies sure do like being right and getting their way.”

Stolly and Naese, the youngest members of our group, appeared stunned. Slowly, they nodded.

“You’re right,” Naese said. “Hana is always first at work—first to a discovery. Hell, first to get out of bed.”

“It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for,” Coach Whittaker reminded us. “They’re intense.”

We all knew this from our years on the ice. Sure, the mouthy assholes were a problem, but the guys who kept to themselves were often even more focused on winning.

Maxim narrowed his eyes. His jaw clenched, released, then clenched again. “Ah, that little sneak of mine. She must have heard me talking to Naese about bringing Vivian out for a game. I couldn’t believe she refused to come to your wedding. That’s what got me thinking about forcing the proximity.”

Naese snapped his fingers. “Oh! Yeah. I bet you’re right. Hana was all over having Vivian stay with us.”

“Why didn’t she?” I asked.

Naese shrugged. “She got busy with work or something.”

“Sounds like an excuse. Anyone know why she and Cruz are on the outs?” I asked, looking at the rest of the guys. They shook their heads.

“I bet the women do,” Coach Kramer muttered.

“We need to talk more,” I said. “I mean, among us.”

The guys shook their heads and snorted.

“We’re doing that now . It’s just that our ladies have more practice and experience,” Coach Whittaker said with an indulgent smile.

“I love Ida Jane’s commitment to happiness—ours and others—so much,” Maxim said with a blissful sigh. His icy gaze met each of ours in turn. “That said, our wives have now set the rules of this competition.”

“But I refuse to lose,” I said.

Coach uncrossed his legs and sat up, setting his elbows on his thighs. “You guys think we’re going to matchmake better than our wives?”

“We can,” Stolly said. He swallowed nervously. “Once we set up the right strategy.”

“We’ll execute it beautifully,” Coach Kramer added. “We’re good at that.”

Coach Whittaker looked over all of us critically. “And this will not in any way jeopardize our play on ice. I want the Cup, and I put together a hell of a team to make sure I get it.”

“So do we,” I assured him. “It’ll be a seven-, no eight-time HEA.” I grinned. “And we’ll have bragging rights.”

“I know what that is,” Maxim said with a chuckle. He stretched out his legs and smiled like a cat who’d eaten an entire tree full of canaries. “Ida Jane likes romance novels and movies. Those make her?—”

“Don’t go there!” everyone shouted.

Maxim scowled. “Teary eyed! She gets all sweet and weepy. Dirty-minded fucks.”

We all guffawed.

“So does Keelie,” I said once I quit laughing—in part to placate the scowling Russian but also because it was true.

“So, strategy,” Naese said. “Vivian’s a nurse. We know this from Hana. She likes her job, and she’s good at it, but it has to be stressful.”

“And you said she wants to pay off her student loans as quickly as possible,” Coach Kramer added.

“Or…she’s avoiding Cruz,” Stolly offered.

“Good point,” Coach Kramer said.

“Well, that could cause a crimp in the plan.” I glanced over at Coach Whittaker. “We offer her a job with the organization. She can do?—”

He shook his head. “We can’t. She has great skills, but we don’t have a team nurse, especially not one who focuses on cancer. That’s her specialty. Paloma told me,” he added.

I felt myself sweating as I considered our dwindling chances of winning.

“M.D. Anderson,” Stolly said.

“What?” I asked.

“The cancer hospital here in Houston. Millie’s been working with them to get even better-quality staff, especially for pediatrics.”

“Cruz’s mom will help us,” Coach Whittaker said.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“What?”

“But she’s a woman!”

“She might talk to the ladies…”

The comments crashed over each other.

“Lola came to see me,” Coach said. “It was a private matter, and I won’t tell you more than that, but I can say that she’s also aware Cruz has been in a funk, and she thinks he needs to work through what happened to make him push Vivian away. So, I think we get her involved in helping us craft a way to get the two of them together.”

We nodded, and I noted the determined expression on the guys’ faces.

“Sounds like the ladies are already working to get Vivian a position at M.D. Anderson,” Stolly said.

“So we focus on getting Vivian and Cruz together as often as possible,” I said. “Better yet, we get Lola to help us set up something that ensures constant contact between the two of them, and then their relationship will go from there.”

All the heads were bobbing up and down. “Sounds like a solid start to a plan,” Stolly said. “But we need more specific goals. We want them to live in married bliss, like the rest of us, right? And Cruz is planning to formalize the work he does with the military dogs once he retires, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” I replied. “Connecting K-Nines and their handlers makes him really happy.”

Naese’s smile widened. “If she likes dogs as much as Cruz, that’s another angle we can work.”

“What if Vivian doesn’t want to leave San Francisco?” Maxim asked.

Coach Kramer snapped his fingers before pointing at me. “That’s why we get Lola involved now. If she likes Vivian, there’s no way she’ll rest until she’s gotten the two of them together.”

Coach Whittaker leaned back on the couch, a slight smile gracing his lips. He crossed his hands over his stomach and let the rest of us plan—as if he weren’t as invested as we were. But I knew that wasn’t true. Cruz was a special player because he was a special man who’d held us all together during those early rough years as the league’s newest expansion team. He also held us together now that we were a force few other teams could match. I might wear the captain’s patch, but Cruz was the big brother for everyone.

“The first thing you need to do is get him to talk about the last night they saw each other,” Coach finally said.

We turned and frowned. “That’s ominous,” Stolly muttered.

“It’s part of what Lola told me in confidence. But if you want to understand Cruz’s funk and why he’s pushing away the love of his life, that’s where you need to start.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Any suggestions?”

“Well, if it were me, I’d remember the trip Cruz took last summer?—”

“To Michigan!” Maxim shouted, like this was a pop quiz.

“He was supposed to be gone four, five days, but we didn’t see him for a month,” Naese said. “Hana said he and Vivian spent a weekend together.”

“That’s where I’d start,” Coach said, slapping his knees. He rose.

“What aren’t you telling us?” I asked. I pulled out my phone.

Coach shrugged. “Like you said, there’s a reason Cruz isn’t talking to Vivian and hasn’t asked her to come here. Just like there’s a reason he stayed away for nearly a month. If you can figure that out, you’ll probably know why he’s breaking his—and her—heart.”

I blew out a breath. “It’s time to play sleuth. We have to get to the bottom of this. For both their sakes.”

“And ours,” Maxim rumbled.

“Yeah, Cruiser deserves to be as happy as the rest of us,” Naese said. “Ah! Found something…”

He grunted, clearly unhappy. Turning his phone around a moment later, I read the headline: Man hospitalized after knife attack .

I grimaced. “Damn. That’s a big thing to keep quiet about. We definitely need more information.”

“We should talk to Cruiser’s mom to get more information about all this,” Naese said.

“Glad you offered,” I told him. “Talk to her and pump Hana for information.” I rubbed my finger over my upper lip. “We gotta fix this, stat.”