Chapter 11
DECLAN
Gliding along the ice, I can’t stop grinning as Ford tries to steal the puck as it travels between the passes of my stick. We’re playing a little one-on-one before the kids hit the ice. God, I miss this. I really miss this.
“Go easy, we don’t have padding on,” Ford reminds me.
We’re only in jeans and hoodies, but still, I’m putting up a fight with my offense and doing my best with my determination to score a goal.
Picking up speed, we make it across the blue line into the attacking zone, and I take my aim.
The moment the puck hits the net and I get my goal, I let go and slow my skating.
“Damn, you’re too good,” Ford curses from his loss.
Something about waking up early to hit the ice without any rules or structure is exactly what I needed to start my day today.
I slept great but woke to the smell of Violet in my room, and kind of wondered what it would be like to wake with her in my bed. Not like that night when I left before she woke up, but actually wake up and face one another.
Would she act shy? Or would she lead us into morning sex?
My vote is on the latter.
Stepping off the ice, Ford and I take a seat on the bench.
“I think marketing wants to reschedule the photo op to around lunchtime. That’s cool, right?
” Ford asks as he grabs his water bottle.
“‘New Spinners’ owner teaches kids how to play hockey,’ that’s probably their angle.
Good for the facility and great for your team. ”
My brows raise. “Sounds about right. Sure, lunchtime is fine.”
I already texted Violet that I wasn’t sure of my schedule today.
“What did you get up to last night?” Ford asks, making small talk while he unlaces his skates.
Glancing up, I take a second more than I should to answer. I don’t feel guilty for what I’m doing with his sister, we’re consenting adults, but nonetheless, lying even when it makes perfect sense to do so doesn’t feel great either.
“The usual. Room service, checked my stocks, and tried to watch a series.”
“Sounds quiet. I’m slightly envious; even the dog was noisy last night at our house.” Yet Ford still has a broad smile as he says that.
I chuckle once. “That’s the way you like it.”
He stands and points a finger at me. “True. One day you will see that hockey isn’t everything.”
“I’m counting the days,” I say in a mundane tone.
He waves me off. “I’ll be in my office and will see you in about thirty minutes to go over logistics for some of the proposals you made for pre-season training camp next year. We can video call your GM.”
“Great,” I call out as Ford heads off.
I arrived in Lake Spark with ideas, from schedules to a list of demands of what would be needed for the team to train well. For one, we need a full commitment for specific dates and office space for the coaching staff. I’m confident that we can make it all happen.
Glancing down at my watch to check my heartrate, I remember I have a little break before heading into the day full force. Grabbing my phone, I pull up Violet’s name to type her a message.
Me
No go for lunch. Can we meet later tonight?
I see the dots bouncing in the chat. I know she’s at her store, as she mentioned once needing to be there by eight in the morning.
Violet
Whatever will I do on my lunch break now?
I love her banter.
I’m sure you will figure something out. Just don’t come, it will be better if you wait.
She sends me a few shocked emojis.
Pff. Fine.
7?
Should work. I’ll pick something up on my way there. Ruin your room service standards with peasant food.
I scan the area to ensure that nobody notices the beaming smile that I’m wearing.
I’m a laid-back guy, you know that.
That you like to lie on your back? Why, yes, I do know that.
An audible laugh escapes me.
Says the woman who wears ridiculously expensive lingerie… Yeah, I noticed.
It’s for a good cause.
I’m a cause now?
No. But my need for enjoyment is.
Just arrive naked under your clothes, then we don’t need to debate this.
Nah, I’d only do the whole arrive-naked thing if I was wearing your hockey jersey. Such as shame you no longer play hockey… you own a team instead.
The image of her in my jersey twists me in a way that I don’t like. I want to hate it… but damn, I entertain the idea in my head.
My fists form, and I want to bite my knuckles. I won’t be able to get her out of my head. I mean, she’s already there, but now it’s the extremely X-rated version, complete with her moaning in my ear, that won’t escape my thoughts.
How the fuck am I supposed to teach the little campers now? You probably don’t even know my old jersey number; you’re riling me up.
You’re right, I don’t know. I was too busy touching myself when I watched the games from home and saw you on the screen. Have a good day.
A freaking kissing emoji.
Blowing out a breath, I do my best to bring relief to my body. I’m going to have blue balls all day, and I need to focus on something else.
Violet and I have playful chemistry, that’s for sure, but the excitement that’s inside me, as if I’m counting down the minutes until I see her, isn’t because of attraction.
Well, it is and it isn’t. But I know being unable to filter what I say around her is a change from my other encounters with women, and the fact that her laugh is so freaking beautiful to hear is another plus.
Violet is the type of fling that if the circumstances were different, then I wouldn’t be eager to give us a deadline. My stomach sinks from that thought; we’re already halfway through the week.
Scratching my chin, I brush all thoughts aside, as I have a day to conquer.
Opening the door of my room, I’m faced with Violet standing in the hall in her rain poncho again. It’s been pouring all day; not that I went outside, it was meeting after meeting.
She holds up the takeout bag. “Turkey sandwiches from the deli at the general store, plus a bag of chips because I felt you earned it.” She attempts to keep a straight face, but her wicked little smile is something she can’t control.
As I grab the bag from her fingers, she steps forward, close to my body, and tips her chin up, with her eyes challenging me.
We’re not going to move.
I reach behind her to grab the do-not-disturb sign and slide it on the outside handle.
“So strategic,” she purrs in approval.
I push the door closed, our eyes never parting, and I carefully drop the bag onto the floor to the side, before I step forward, which causes her to walk back, right into the door.
“I’m not really hungry,” she softly whispers.
“What a coincidence, neither am I.”
I lean down to kiss her mouth and allow my hands to cradle her head to ensure I get the best possible angle, because kissing her is the best part of my day so far. Her lips are warm, yet there is a subtle taste of freaking blueberries.
“You taste like muffins,” I note before kissing her again, because it’s like a drug you could get addicted to, or at least I imagine this is what addiction feels like.
“That’s because it’s blueberry-muffin lip balm.” Violet begins to remove the rain poncho and just throws it to the floor. I’m looking down at her poncho, when she gently clears her throat, and her eyes flash to inform me to take a closer look at her.
The moment I notice what she’s wearing, I step away and rub both of my hands over my face while I groan. “Are you kidding me?”
“It was on the floor of my closet needing a little more respect.” She clucks the inside of her cheek.
A whistle escapes my lips as I take in the fact she is wearing shorts that shouldn’t be legal and an old Spinners t-shirt which looks like it’s been through hell and back, but it just makes it even hotter.
It stops right above her belly button and slides off one shoulder, and she isn’t wearing a bra.
I know this because her pert little nipples are outlined through the shirt.
I was never into puck bunnies, and this outfit is skirting a few similarities. Many women would wear something similar and throw themselves at me at a bar or party after a game. But Violet? Violet is dressed like this with pure intentions; simply to make me smile and laugh.
So what if the consequences of her attempt will be dirty as fuck, but it’s all about why she did this.
And that just makes me want her even more.
Stepping forward, our bodies are flush, and in one swift move, we work together, with my arms hoisting her up as her legs willingly wrap around my waist.
“Screw the bed, I’m taking you right here,” I warn her.
We eventually migrated to the bed and have been talking for what feels like hours. The shirt she tempted me with was lost then thrown back on after our last round, but the shorts haven’t left the floor near the door.
“Happy Accident” by Tomberlin plays on my Bluetooth as we face one another on our sides and snack on chips and cookies, since turndown service stopped by.
“Are you still avoiding your dad’s calls?” Violet asks, nibbling on a gooey cookie that draws my attention to her mouth,
I grab another potato chip from the little bag resting between us.
“He tried to phone earlier, but I was saved by a photo session. I’ll face him soon.
I kind of need to switch gears, you know?
In truth, the last few months have been…
odd. I always knew I would need to retire, but I hate it, nonetheless.
Then buying the team, sure, it’s a thrill, but… ”
“You’re trying to fill a void,” she says, finishing my sentence.
My eyes widen slightly because she gets it. “Something like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but it’s not the same as being on the ice with a timer controlling your adrenaline as you try to score.”
“Have you ever thought that now you get to experience hockey through a different lens? You’ll probably still feel the adrenaline, but now you get to watch a game unfold and go home without a black eye too.”
I flex my jaw side to side, as I’m slightly in awe that Violet analyzes things so clearly. “You read people well,” I compliment.