Chapter 8
The game was not going well for the Dragons. Leo found himself becoming more and more distracted, doubting why he was here and why he’d even chosen hockey. The effort he’d poured into his skills on the ice wasn’t making the impact he’d hoped for. It wasn’t like rodeo, where he was just one athlete needing a turnaround. With a few right moves he could improve his stats in the ring and rise to the top again. Being on a struggling team was different, and it was frustrating.
At least he was now in talks with Family Zone, thanks to Violet. They were agonizingly slow, but the fact that they were even happening gave him hope that he’d be able to meet his financial dreams sooner rather than later.
It had been a month since the gala and Violet had been slightly standoffish since he’d kissed her without thinking. He’d been overjoyed and had crossed a line, and now it was impacting their friendship.
It was killing him, knowing she was upset with him.
He liked her and needed her in his life. Way more than Christine, who he hadn’t seen nor missed since the gala.
But his friend Violet? He needed her. Life felt so…boring without her.
And he didn’t know what to do, or how she was feeling. They’d been busy with Christmas, New Year’s, engagement parties and games since the kiss. It felt like all they did was wave to each other from across rooms, and now they were reaching the end of January and still hadn’t talked about it.
Maybe there was nothing to talk about. She’d given a nervous laugh after he’d laid his lips on hers, and had brushed it off, her face red.
And yet things hadn’t been the same since.
The ref’s whistle blew, and as players rearranged themselves for a face-off, men slipped on and off the bench around Leo. The team. This game. They’d started their season as the worst-rated not just in their division but in the entire league. They’d made some strides and were no longer at the bottom of the pack, but the fans were getting annoyed by their lack of wins.
So was he. So was the team.
He could feel the energy coming off the men on the bench beside him. Dejection. Maybe a touch of despair. And the crowd behind their box was rapidly sliding from frustration into annoyance with the widening point gap. There were only five minutes left in the game, and a win would need a miracle.
Maverick came off the ice, jammed himself into the tight spot between Leo and Mullens, pulled off his helmet and squirted water over his sweat-soaked head.
Leo noticed that within a few seconds his eyes drifted to the stands, which was unlike the captain, who normally maintained a steadfast focus on the game. Did he feel the shift in energy as well?
Leo found his own gaze rising to the stands.
Not too far to his right he spotted Violet in the Dezzie costume, and Daisy-Mae dancing beside her. They were working hard to get the audience behind the players’ box excited, to shift the energy momentum into something more positive. Kids near them cheered and took part, the adults not so much.
Leo looked away, uncomfortable about the way he’d kissed Violet without thinking about how she’d feel about it. There’d been moments of attraction between them, but he must have read it wrong because now he was facing losing his friend.
He knew nothing about romance, that was for sure. A “moment” didn’t mean a woman wanted a kiss.
He rubbed his lips, practically tasting her peach-flavored lip gloss despite the time and distance from that quick smooch. Man, if he was going to ruin things with her, couldn’t he have at least given her a hint of how he could really kiss instead of that bruising quick one?
He sighed, his attention drifting back to the stands. Dezzie was moving closer to the team’s players box, high-fiving some fans wearing straw cowboy hats with the Dragons logo on the front. From what he’d heard, Daisy-Mae, as part of her additional full-time job in the head office, had arranged for them to be given out at home games. It was nice to see people wearing their gear. Now they just had to win more to keep those fans. Because it was a simple equation: no fans, no hockey.
No hockey, no Violet.
No hockey, no money. No retirement plan. No security.
Leo jiggled his legs, his chest tight, his gloves abandoned at his feet, no longer expecting to be sent into the game at a second’s notice. He pushed the tips of his fingers into the knitted hockey socks that came up over his knees, trying to ground himself. The woven material had ridges and valleys, perfectly sized for his fingertips.
They were still down on the scoreboard.
He glanced behind him.
Dezzie was still dancing.
Violet was normally so positive, so optimistic in the way she thought and spoke that Leo didn’t want to think how she might be feeling inside her costume right now. He hoped the fans weren’t yelling at her. She deserved better. And not just from spectators, but from guys who called themselves her friends.
“Eyes on the ice,” the coach snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Leo said. Maverick shot him a guilty look, and they both turned their attention back to the game.
The team captain sure had it bad for Daisy-Mae. Leo smirked at him and got a scowl in return. Women. So distracting.
The other team scored a goal and the tension on the bench increased, as well as in the stands. Leo could feel it down his back, an unpleasant prickling sensation. It spread up his spine, through to the base of his skull, then over his scalp like it was covered in ants.
When he felt like this in a rodeo, something bad was going to happen.
He jiggled his legs again, feeling claustrophobic in the players’ box.
Another face-off. The Dragons lost it, the opposing team in possession of the puck and already racing over the blue line, lining up for the shot.
Moments later, angry shouts erupted behind the bench in spite of Landon’s great save. Despite Coach Louis’s earlier reprimand, Leo turned. A fan in a Dragons jersey was squaring off with Dezzie, arms waving, face red.
Leo stood.
“Sit down,” the coach growled.
“You’re facing the wrong way, Socks,” Maverick said mildly, before swinging himself over the boards and onto the rink, back on the ice to try and save the game.
Leo scanned the stands for security guards. None. He looked at the guards normally seated near their box to protect the players. They hadn’t heard the shouts, and he was unable to make eye contact with them.
The man several rows above the box shoved Dezzie, sending her tumbling into Daisy-Mae, who’d been trying to talk reason into him.
Leo unlatched the gate that kept fans from entering the players’ area. He was over barricades and empty seats before anyone had a chance to grab him, before he had a chance to think. His skate blades clanked against the concrete steps as he closed the distance between himself and Violet.
Other fans had circled the fallen mascot in shock, but because of the staggered seats, few could get to the angry man, who was about to reach down and shake her.
Leo leaped up the final three steps and grabbed the guy in a bear hug. He fisted the back hem of the man’s Dragons jersey, and in one fluid move, yanked it up over the man’s head in a familiar hockey-fight move, restricting the assailant’s arms as well as impairing his ability to see.
In a flash, two security guards flanked the fan as Leo pulled back his fist.
“No,” Daisy-Mae warned, and he caught himself before he completed the swing, adrenaline surging through him.
Daisy-Mae, who’d tumbled after Dezzie collided with her, was back on her feet, pulling on Violet’s dragon costume head, which had gotten wedged between two rows of seats, trapping Violet. As soon as it was free, Leo grabbed Violet’s arm like he had on the day they’d met, hoisting her to her feet. He clasped her headpiece, angling it downward so he could peer through the shaded eyeholes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his heart screaming like he’d just raced a bull across the ring, climbing the fence at the last possible moment before the beast crashed into it with its horns.
He could barely see Violet’s face inside.
“She says she’s fine,” Daisy-Mae said quietly.
How could she be? She’d just been shouted at and shoved, wedged into a vulnerable position. If she’d needed to, she couldn’t have escaped or defended herself.
He saw a glimmer through the eyeholes. A tear. Wetness on her cheek.
Leo’s hands tightened back into fists and he whirled, searching for the tough guy in the jersey. He was being marched away by security, and Leo’s desire to chase them down and pummel him intensified. He leaned forward to pursue him up the steps, but more security guards had filled the small area, blocking him. He swore under his breath and ushered Violet into the ring of safety they created.
“Don’t let her come back out again tonight,” he ordered, and Daisy-Mae nodded briskly, her face pale.
“You better get back on the ice,” someone said, firmly pushing the thick padding of his equipment, directing him away from the scene, the stands and Violet.
She was moving up the stairs to the next level, waving and blowing kisses as if nothing had happened. But inside the dragon costume, Leo knew she was crying.
And it was the worst feeling in the world.
Violet didn’t know if the team had won or lost. But she guessed that unless a miracle had occurred, the game was not only over, but the Dragons had endured another big loss.
She sat on the bench in her changing room, unable to pull herself together enough to leave. Nobody out there would be spitting on her, squaring up to her or challenging her, like they had when she was in costume. She’d be an anonymous employee in street clothes, wearing an ID badge.
Still, she couldn’t force her legs to lift her from the bench, to move toward the door.
While in costume she knew enough to avoid the area behind the opposing team’s box. Knew to avoid the aggressive calls that would draw her over, the type of spectator who would try to spit on her or trip her. But behind her own team? That had taken her by surprise.
“Security said they’ll walk us out when you’re ready,” Daisy-Mae said. She’d locked the door as soon as they’d been deposited there by the guards. She’d helped Violet out of her costume with shaking hands and a pale face, voicing a stream of apologies for not being a better lookout.
Violet wasn’t ready to leave the room or even process what had happened. She felt like she was going to vomit. Or run.
Courage. She drew a deep breath and stood.
“Do you think Leo will get in trouble?” she asked.
Daisy-Mae shook her head, then shrugged.
He’d busted right out of the players’ box and raced up the stands to protect her during the game.
Who did that?
And what did it mean?
A million thoughts swarmed her brain, from how the press was going to portray him as a crazy hothead, to whether Family Zone would drop him, to the kiss he’d given her at the gala.
She hadn’t told Daisy-Mae about that because she feared her friend would read too much into it. He’d been excited, and the kiss had meant nothing.
She wanted it to, though. But she was also wise enough to know he was looking for something different, despite them being great together as friends.
Violet sank down on the locker room bench again, needing another minute before facing the outside world.
“That was pretty sexy, him running up to help you like that,” Daisy-Mae commented. She’d figured out Violet was crushing even though she didn’t know the full extent of it.
“Yeah.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Shaky.” Violet held up her hands, which were trembling.
“That was really scary, Vi. I’m so—”
“You don’t need to apologize again. I felt the shift in the crowd and ignored it, too. I thought I could change their mood. We’ve done it before.”
“I’m the one not hidden inside a big costume. I should have pulled you out of the stands earlier. And of course you’re shaky. You were attacked! That’s not supposed to happen. Ever.”
Violet nodded, knowing the unexpected aggression aimed at her wasn’t the only reason she was shaky. She’d been shocked, sure, but Dezzie’s thick, soft exterior had protected her from any physical harm. That and Leo’s timely arrival.
Her tears of surprise, shock and fear had quickly dried, the threatened feeling overshadowed by several facts. One, Leo had noticed her in the stands. And not somewhere easy, like across the rink, where he might glance up from the game and see her. She had been behind him. Two, despite being locked into the players’ box, he’d done something about the aggressive fan. Him. Not security or anyone else. He’d broken past barriers, skates and all, to rip the man off her. And then he’d looked through her costume’s eyeholes and seen her. He’d seen her.
And he’d been livid. He’d been so scared that she was hurt.
How could she not turn those things into a familiar story she loved—the one where the man she liked was crushing right back at her?
Daisy-Mae was asking her something.
“Do you want to make a break for it?”
Violet focused on the here and now. There were voices in the hall. The postgame hoop-la must be over, the word about what had happened spreading. The entire team must now be aware of what Leo had done, and there was no way she could face them all, leaving at the same time. The sympathy, the questioning looks… Too much.
There was a knock on the door, and Violet quickly dabbed at her cheeks, where tears had streaked anew. Daisy-Mae unlocked the door and peeked through the gap. She opened it wider and Violet stood up, unsure what to expect. Was she going to get in trouble from Nuvella for some reason? Was the press going to track her down and demand information about the attack, serving up her hurt for the world to devour as entertainment?
Leo appeared in the doorway, his hair damp, dripping onto the collar of his white shirt, which was only partially buttoned, the cuffs loose, his suit jacket bunched in his right hand. He quickly scanned the room, latching on to her with his gaze. She raised a hand to her forehead, sheltering her red, puffy eyes from his view. Suddenly she was engulfed in a warm, soap-scented hug, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his bag and jacket landing at her feet.
A sob escaped her chest, and she shuddered in his embrace as she tried to draw a breath.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” His palm stroked the back of her head, calming her, as his other one rubbed her back. His hands were warm, the feel of his firm, solid body soothing and safe.
She heard the door thump shut as Daisy-Mae left.
As Violet settled, Leo eased his grip, craning his neck to peer down at her. He’d felt like a warm, cozy comforter after a long, hard day, and she longed for him to continue the hug.
“Are you all right?” He was studying her, checking for injuries, his right hand gently cupping her face so he could take a better look. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Tears returned as she shook her head. “I’m okay.” She stepped from his arms, tugging down the sleeves of her sweatshirt so they covered her hands. “Although I’m probably getting fired.”
“Are you kidding me?” He looked livid again, like he wanted to kick something. “I hope they fine that guy for assault.”
Her tears dried, and she gaped at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. He pushed you down!” Leo’s hands had bunched into fists, and he shoved his unbuttoned shirtsleeves up, revealing the cords of muscles in his forearms.
He seemed ready to fight. That same fierce look was blazing in his eyes, like it had in the stands. As if he was ready to kill for her.
It took her breath away.
“Did you get in trouble?” she asked, realizing that him racing up the stands in his skates and manhandling a fan was probably against a dozen rules and could get him benched or fined.
“Coach muttered something about letting security handle stuff in the future.” Leo squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, the fight leaving him. “Do you think this’ll impact things with Family Zone?” He shook his head and opened them again, that fight blazing back. “I don’t care.”
“Leo!”
“No.” He inhaled unsteadily and faced her. “What would have happened if I hadn’t got up there when I did?”
“There was security.”
“Too little, too late. I’ll take the consequences, because you matter more to me than any deal ever could.”
Leo couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s game and how Violet had been pushed down by that fan. The media was in a frenzy over it, and she was refusing to talk about it with anyone. He’d been interviewed—well, there had been requests, but Nuvella, Louis and Miranda had handled his statements and talked to the press on his behalf.
“Are you sure the parade is a good idea?” Leo glanced at the rows of floats waiting to roll down Sweetheart Creek’s Main Street, tossing candy and advertising local businesses for the first annual Armadillo Day. The idea, from what he’d gathered, was that the day had involved some events and games along Main Street, with money being raised to take care of repairing the town’s outdoor swimming pool. Donations were also being taken for a local animal shelter, which was being built by Brant Wylder, the town’s veterinarian.
Leo hadn’t made it to the pancake breakfast or any of the afternoon events, but was here for the evening parade, which would kick off the food trucks, dance and fireworks.
Violet had somehow wrangled him into joining the parade, along with herself, dressed as Dezzie. Naturally, Daisy-Mae was also coming, to ensure that Violet didn’t get run over by a decorated tractor.
Currently, Daisy-Mae was off to the side, chatting with someone, while Violet stood in her dragon costume with the head tucked under her arm, flouting the head-always-on-in-public rule. Then again, there weren’t any dressing rooms on the field, so she could argue that the staging grounds were her locker room.
It was already dark out, the parade preparations illuminated by the football field’s lights. Daisy-Mae had outfitted Leo with one of the Dragons’ cowboy hats, which she’d studded with small blinking lights. Being a night parade, everything that could be lit up was. One guy who’d walked by even had twinkling cowboy boots.
“Don’t forget to make yourself accessible for photographs.” Violet pointed into her dragon head and Leo reached inside for a stack of hockey cards. He glanced at them, surprised to see they were of him. He was on a card! His number, with a candid shot of him skating. Looking comfortable on skates, just like a pro hockey player.
“Whoa.”
“Nice photo, right?”
“Where’d you get these?”
“Daisy-Mae snuck them out of Nuvella’s office. Technically, they aren’t available yet, so mum’s the word.”
“Are we going to get in trouble for handing them out?”
“Probably.”
He chuckled. Violet’s rebellious side still surprised him sometimes. Less so than when he’d first met her, as he was getting used to seeing her spunkiness.
“What do you say when someone asks for a selfie with you?” she prompted.
“Say cheese?”
“Say ‘be sure to tag me and the Dragons if you post this on social media.’”
“Right.” She had a lot of rules about the parade and how he was to act. He appreciated it, though. She was making sure he benefited from tonight in terms of visibility and image.
“Try to get photos with kids in them. Family Zone will love that.”
“Reputation enhancement,” he muttered. That’s what Nuvella called it.
The media was divided about the way he’d stormed the stands to protect Violet. They’d loved that he was loyal and protective, looking out for the team’s mascot. But he could see how quickly and easily he could be painted as an uncontrollable hothead who roughed up fans.
Not that he’d roughed up the man.
But he’d wanted to.
The only saving grace was that he wasn’t a big fighter on the ice and didn’t have any prior hothead moments for them to build a reputation off of. Honestly, he was still too focused on the puck and getting to it before anyone else that he didn’t even consider decking an opponent or slamming them into the boards.
As long as nothing else happened, the whole incident could hopefully be forgotten.
“Do you think the town will have any issue with me being in the parade? You know—the hothead fighter rep that’s trying to stick to me?”
“Are you kidding?” Her expression was almost tender. “They think you’re a hero. They all know who’s inside Dezzie.”
He felt a weight lift off him, knowing there were some folks on his side. Folks whose respect he wanted to earn.
The floats lined up in front of them started crawling toward the exit from the football field staging grounds, and Leo hoped that the favors Violet had asked from Daisy-Mae would pay off for himself and the team.
“And if anyone mentions football, smile and wave and say ‘Go Torpedos!’” she coached.
“Right. Town’s team. Got it. Football all the way.” He glanced down at his Dragons jersey. Hopefully there were a few hockey fans watching the parade tonight.
Daisy-Mae hustled up and slid Violet’s earpiece into place, then disappeared again. No doubt, helping their friend Jenny with some finishing touches on her boutique’s float.
“And don’t let me get run over!” Violet added. She tilted her head toward the tractor behind them. It was lit up with spinning lights and advertised cattle feed.
“Wait,” Leo said, feeling panicked. “Didn’t you say there was some guy in town who drove his tractor when he was under the influence, in hopes of avoiding a ticket?” Was this old guy him? He seemed sober. A bit ancient, but sober.
“You’ll be fine.”
Leo picked up his pace, putting more distance between himself and the trailing tractor, hoping the parade didn’t end his career—or his life. He was wearing what he thought of as his lucky belt buckle tonight, but wasn’t sure if it would protect him from a tractor driver nodding off and flattening him by accident.
Violet flashed him a smile and lifted her dragon head, about to put it on. A swell of gratitude washed over him for the good friend she was, and the way things were going back to normal between them again.
“Vi!” He hurried to her side and she paused. “Everyone needs a friend like you. And I don’t know how to thank you for all of this. The connections you helped me make at the gala, and then this event, too.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes all you need is a good friend.”
“You’re getting me to all the places I want to be. And I appreciate it.”
She bobbed her head. “I know.”
“So, thanks.” He shifted awkwardly, wanting to say more. He wanted to tell her he was over Christine, and that the whole idea of marrying her had been a dumb one. It was embarrassing how long it had taken him to understand that Christine Lagrée wasn’t into him and never would be. If he had time later, he wanted to tell Violet about his parents’ anniversary party and how his previous view on marriage had been all wrong. She’d been right about so many things—naturally, as she was the one with experience when it came to falling in love.
“Parade in less than one minute. Positions now, everyone, or I’ll have you and your float removed!” Henry Wylder snapped through a megaphone, walking the line of floats.
Violet gave Leo a wry look, suppressing her giggles at Henry’s crankiness. Leo shook his head and sighed. This town.
He squeezed Violet’s arm through the costume padding. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Of course.”
“And also, I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
She gave him a blank look.
“Get in position with the dragon, Daisy-Mae!” Henry ordered.
“At the gala,” Leo explained. “I crossed our friendship line, and I’m sorry.”
Violet gave him a steady look. “I’m not.” Then she dropped the dragon head over her own, masking her expression.
What?
She wasn’t sorry he’d kissed her?
Wait. Were they even talking about the same thing?
But if she wasn’t sorry about the kiss, then why had she acted so weird for weeks?
Maybe it had been about something else?
Either way, if she wasn’t sorry about the kiss, then most definitely, neither was he.