The Charmer (Boston Hawks Hockey)

Chapter 1

ONE

REESE

The stomp of combat boots makes me freeze. My eyes close and I palm the office door I just opened, waiting for the scent of her perfume, edgy and unique, just like her, to hit me.

She grows closer and I let out an exhale. All other noise—the laughter of guys on my team, the hushed conversation between Hawks owner Scott Reland and his receptionist Peggy, Joe whistling as he mops the floor nearby—it’s all blocked out.

I only hear her footfalls, heavy, confident, Jayde DuPree.

Nearly one year ago, I spent an evening sitting next to Jayde at Taps.

The team had won a big game; I was running on adrenaline and excitement.

We were all taking shots of tequila and celebrating, reminiscing, laughing.

It was loud and chaotic but slowly, the team trickled out, went home with their women or back to their families.

Jayde and I stayed behind. We slid onto worn leather barstools and asked the bartender Pete to keep the tequila coming. The loud chaos gave way to genuine conversation. It was serious, heartfelt, and the most real connection I’ve shared with a woman.

Jayde, with her golden-brown eyes and glittering nose ring, opened up.

Whenever I’d see her around the arena, she’d give off this clipped, no-nonsense demeanor.

It’s well known that she drives her boss, Scott Reland, nuts with her attitude.

But under that tough exterior is a beautiful, soulful, brilliant girl I fell in love with.

Slowly at first, through side glances and casual greetings.

And then, that night, in a rush. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the shape of her mouth, rosebud lips that pursed thoughtfully or quirked with sarcasm.

I leaned in, catching all her words, about her awful breakup with a Muay Thai fighter, about her uncertainty over her future, about how much she loved working for Scott but wasn’t sure what came next.

I listened, I absorbed, and I fell in love.

When we were both drunk on tequila and high on conversation, Jayde slid into me, her knees captured between mine, and her palms gripped my shoulders.

She was heavy lidded, her gaze dark, intense on my mouth.

I remember the way my breathing went haywire, my entire body desperate to lean into her touch while my mind screamed at me not to kiss her.

Not when she’s drunk. Not when she’s hung up on another man. Not when she’s…sad.

So, I gently stopped her advances, closed out our tab, and tucked her into an Uber, riding beside her until I could safely deliver her home. I did the right thing; I was the good guy.

But Jayde never sought me out again after that night.

Instead, my side glances were met with unease and casual greetings became forced.

She was embarrassed, I was naive, and as a result, I’ve spent the past year longing for her from afar.

Wanting to make things right, wanting to show her how good things could be between us, now that she’s not drunk, or hung up on an ex, or heartbreakingly sad.

“You coming or going?” Her voice is throaty when she stops beside me.

I look up and bite the corner of my mouth to stop my smile. God, she’s beautiful. Her makeup is a work of art, the purple streaks in her hair are now blue, and her eyes are dark with feigned frustration.

“Coming,” I quip and her eyes flare. I hold open the door to the main office. “After you.”

She holds my gaze for a long beat, trying to school her features. But I catch the little swipe of her tongue as it hits the center of her bottom lip. I feel the natural chemistry that always sparks between our bodies. One she tries to ignore, and I try to ignite.

With a huff, she moves past me, into the main office. I grin as I follow, tossing a wink at Peggy, the team’s adopted grandmother.

“Hey, Keller,” Scott greets me.

Jayde stands still, refusing to glance my way.

“Hi, Scott.”

“Coach told me you’re skipping our first team skate this weekend. Of course, it’s not mandatory, but I’m hoping most of the guys will show.”

“I wish I could be there, Scott. I’m supposed to head out of town tomorrow. One of my best buddies from college is tying the knot,” I say. “That’s why I’m popping in. I wanted to double check it’s not a problem before I RSVP that I’m definitely attending.”

“No problem. Where’s the wedding?” Scott asks.

Jayde stands still, pretending to study something in the folder she’s holding. But she cocks her head in my direction and I know she’s listening.

“Turks and Caicos.”

Scott whistles. “Have a great time. You had one helluva season. We’ll see you for a skate when you get back.”

“Thanks, Scott. See you around, Jayde,” I say.

Jayde straightens, her neck snapping in my direction. Her eyes meet mine and for a second, I can’t inhale. Because her irises, a deep golden chestnut, are brimming with emotion. With swirling curiosity and a hint of…longing.

I clear my throat, she nods, and I slip out of the office, barely waving to Peggy as I escape back into the hallway. Keeping my head down, I leave The Meadows and head to my car.

It’s mid-June, the Hawks didn’t qualify for the play-offs, and while the team has a bunch of unofficial skates and community outreach initiatives lined up for the rest of the month and into July, I’m heading to a beach resort to watch my buddy Mick marry Emily, his soul mate.

Soul mate. That’s the phase of life I’m in. The one where all my close friends are buying homes, wifey-ing up, and starting to pop out babies.

And the only woman I’ve ever been able to envision doing that with is Jayde. With her snarky attitude, her flippant remarks, her bored expressions. But just under the surface, there’s fire and want, desire and need.

And…fuck this, what am I waiting for?

Turning on my car, I blast the AC and call Mick.

“Better be calling me with a confirmation, fucker,” he answers on the first ring. “Or should I say Golden Boy?” he jokes, calling me out for being the good guy my college friends love to hate on.

Grinning, I lean back in my seat, dropping my head against the headrest. “I’m in, douchenozzle. Did you really think I’d miss your wedding?”

“Nah,” he laughs, but I hear the relief, the happiness, in his tone. “Can’t wait to see you, Keller. Em is gonna be thrilled when I tell her you’re coming.”

“Same. Sorry for waiting till the last minute to RSVP.”

“Don’t be. I was hoping y’all would make the play-offs too.”

“Yeah.” I shift, and grip the back of my neck. “Listen, I need a favor.”

Mick groans. “No, you can’t bunk in the wedding suite with me and Em because you forgot to book a room and now, there’s none left.”

I snicker. “You forget who you’re talking to? Of course, I booked a room.”

He guffaws. “Shit, Keller, I forgot how annoyingly organized you are. Even your sock drawer was—”

“I need a plus-one to your wedding.” I cut him off before he goes down memory lane and I chicken out on asking for a date. Mick’s quiet for a long moment. “Shit, did I shock you speechless?”

“You’re dating someone?” Surprise lines his tone.

“Ahhh, not exactly,” I draw the words out. “It’s…complicated.”

“Don’t tell me you got a kid on the way or—”

“It’s Jayde.”

“Jayde? Wait, bro, seriously? The Jayde with the combat boots and the purple hair?”

“It’s blue now.”

“The girl you haven’t stopped pining for since forever?”

“A year.”

“She’s giving you a shot?” He claps his hands together in the background. “Hell yeah, Golden. I’m proud of you, brother.”

I chuckle, nerves racing through my limbs about what I’m going to do. About my attempt to win Jayde’s heart. But for it to be successful—“Not yet, man. That’s why I need a plus-one. I want to bring her to Turks, to your wedding, and…prove to her that we belong together.”

“Oh shit!” Mick exclaims. “You’re staging a coup!”

“What?” I laugh, pulling the phone away from my ear to look at it. “This isn’t a military strategy, Mick, this is—”

“Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benatar booms through the line.

I crack up, impressed he YouTubed the song so quickly.

“Heartache to heartache,” Mick sings in the background.

“You’re lucky Emily is marrying you,” I say.

He snorts, lowering the volume of the song. “Don’t I know it. Man, I can’t wait to marry her. And I want that for you, Reese.” When Mick uses my first name instead of Keller or Golden Boy, I know he’s serious. “For sure, bring Jayde to the wedding. I can’t wait to meet her.”

At the earnestness in his tone, I feel the emotional weight of what I’m about to do.

It makes me nervous and excited and…hopeful.

Will Jayde come with me to Mick’s wedding?

Will she want to? Here I am, going out on a limb, baring secret soul shit to my buddy, just to show her that we have a shot.

That we deserve to be together. That I want her now just as much as I did that night, in Taps, a year ago.

I clear my throat. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Yep. See you in Turks and Caicos, Golden. My wedding is gonna be the shit!”

“I’m counting on it, Mick.” After I hang up, I toss my phone in the cupholder and lean my head back, closing my eyes.

Holy shit. I’m doing this. I already confided in Mick which means, I’ve got about ten minutes before my phone starts blowing up with our college crew, inquiring when I finally took their advice, grew a set, and asked Jayde out.

I let out a long exhale.

Soul mate. I already know she’s mine. My parents are complete opposites and have the most loving, supportive relationship I’ve ever witnessed.

Jayde and I couldn’t be more different. I’ve been intrigued by her from the first time I saw her, and my admiration has only increased as I’ve watched her let her guard slip.

She’s always one of the first people at The Meadows and last to leave. She has her hand in all team events and makes sure they go off seamlessly. She attends our games, knows the names of our family members, and is the point of contact for anyone who needs access to Scott.

She’s professional, organized, and alert.

But I’ve also witnessed her get into it with a Miami fan who bad-mouthed one of the Hawks player’s girlfriends, starting an awful “slut” chant when she was shown on the big screen during a game.

Somehow, Jayde shut that down, her eyes breathing fire at the fan.

I’ve watched her color and read books with James Ryan’s twins, cuddle Noah Scotch’s baby, and shower the kids that come up through the Youth Outreach camps with attention and kindness.

She’s fierce, loyal, and badass. She’s also gorgeous, witty, and authentic.

Resolved, I turn off the ignition of my car and stride back to the office. I’m going to ask Jayde right now; time is of the essence. I’m going to convince her that this is a brilliant idea, that she should trust me, that I want to kiss her. I’m going to—

“Jayde.” I pull up short as she walks out of The Meadows.

“Reese,” she says, startled. Her eyebrows bend. “You okay?”

I clear my throat. “Come to Turks and Caicos with me.”

“What?”

Internally, I wince. I should have worked up to my declaration but now that it’s out in the open, I blurt the rest. “I want you to be my date. I want you to meet my friends. I want to have a weekend with you, Jayde. And I want to prove that you should give me a real chance. Because I haven’t stopped thinking of you since that night in Taps—”

She gasps.

“And I’m finally doing something about it. So, come away with me. Give me this weekend.”

Her eyes are blown, surprise mixed with anticipation, as her mouth drops open. She lifts a hand to her neck, her fingers toying with the chain of her necklace. She narrows her eyes, closes her mouth, and then shakes her head. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“You want to bring me to your friend’s wedding and…introduce me to your life.”

“Yes.”

“For...real?”

“For keeps,” I say, being completely transparent. Owning just how much I want this, with her.

She clears her throat. “Reese—”

“One weekend, Jayde. If afterwards, you’re not feeling it, I won’t ever ask anything of you again. But please, give me this chance. Because I don’t want to live my life, to go to every wedding, wondering ‘what-if?’ And with you, I’ll always wonder if I don’t take my shot.”

“This is you taking your shot,” she murmurs, as if clarifying it for herself.

“Be my date, Jayde.”

She meets my eyes, searching their depths for a reassurance or a confirmation. Silence grows between us, heavy and thick. I stand up straighter and force myself to stop fidgeting.

If she says no, I’ll—

“Yes,” she says, surprising the hell out of me.

I let out a shaky sigh of relief and grin as a wave of happiness crashes over me. “Yes?”

“Yeah, I mean, sure. Why not?”

My smile widens. “We leave Friday.”

“As in…tomorrow?”

I nod.

“Wait.” she shakes her head. “I don’t have a flight. I don’t know what to pack. I need a dress and—”

I take her hand and she quiets, her gaze penetrating. Hard with a flash of vulnerability.

“Send me your details and I’ll take care of it. You just need to show up with a suitcase. Pack a casual outfit, a bikini, a cocktail dress, and pajamas. Anything you forget, we’ll buy.”

She releases a shaky exhale. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, Jayde. I’ll see you at the airport.” I squeeze her fingers.

“What time?” Her voice holds a frantic edge.

“I’ll text you!” I wave as I hustle back to my car, leaving before she can come up with a list of reasons to back out.

When I’m in my car, I text Mick.

Me: She’s in. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Mick: Rooting for you, Golden.

I grin, relief and excitement flowing through my veins. I’m rooting for me too. For me and for Jayde.