The Ultimate Save (Brooklyn Blades #2)

Chapter One

Denis

All my life I’d wanted to be a hockey player. I was Canadian; ice ran side by side with blood in our veins. We learned to skate as soon as we could walk—sometimes before.

The Stanley Cup. I’d dreamed about it, never believing it might happen. Wished so hard that it had consumed my every living, breathing moment.

Hockey. It was everything.

Every boy in Canada grew up wanting to be a professional hockey player. I’d achieved my dream. Now I had two Stanley Cups in a row, a beautiful apartment in Brooklyn overlooking the river, and I’d made millions of dollars. I’d been awarded numerous MVP titles and Vezina trophies.

So why was I so damned miserable?

The celebration around me grew wilder, and I smiled and drank champagne. Pretending all was right in my world. And it should be. I could have anything I wanted.

Except the one man I’d let get away.

Vous voyez, je suis bien niaiseux. I’m such a fool.

“Don’t lie to yourself. You didn’t let him get away.

” I guzzled the remainder of the champagne bottle and grabbed another one.

“You ruined it. As usual.” My head spun, and I knew I’d have a wicked hangover in the morning, but I didn’t care.

I had no one to get up for. The talk shows would have to put up with me as I was.

As they expected. Denis Bouvier, bad boy of hockey.

I grimaced and narrowed my eyes. “What’s he doing here?

” A tall man in a perfectly tailored suit stood at the entrance to Slapshots, looking uncomfortable and out of place.

Sterling Forest, nighttime anchor of Channel 8 News.

He scanned the room and homed in on Rip and Adrian.

“Of course. He’s looking for his protégé. Pompous dick.”

Forest worked his way through the crowd and, when he reached Adrian, began to talk. Adrian nodded, and Rip set his champagne bottle on the table and moved away slightly. From his tight shoulders and frown, I sensed he was annoyed. My temper shot to the surface.

“It’s his fucking night,” I swore and got to my feet. I didn’t stop to wonder if I was welcome in their space. Still holding my bottle, I strode past my teammates and others to talk to Rip.

“Why’s he here?”

A bit hazy-eyed, Rip shrugged. “Who knows? Something about a news story.”

I snorted. “Mais bien s?r. It always is with him. But can’t he leave you alone for just one night?”

Rip grinned. “Aww, you’re feeling bad for me? That’s kinda sweet and a little ironic coming from you, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but you said that guy is always on Adrian about work. Let him celebrate with you.”

Rip’s gaze settled on Adrian and Forest, still deep in conversation.

“Yeah, well, Adrian’s in awe of him, and Sterling’s a big deal in the news business, so he wants to make a good impression.

And since Sterling’s taken a liking to him, Adrian is going to do what he wants. Within reason, of course.”

“He looks like he’s got a stick up his ass. So uptight.”

“He is.” Rip chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.

But from the times I met him, he seems like an okay guy.

” An amused expression on his face, Rip took my bottle, drank from it, then wiped his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset because of what he said about hockey players?

He apologized to me and said it was a mean-spirited thing to say. ”

When it was announced on air that the Blades had won the Cup, and the rest of the news team had celebrated, Sterling was the only one who’d remained unaffected. He’d been caught on a hot mic with his unsolicited opinion.

“I’m glad the season’s finished. I never understood the allure of grown men beating each other senseless over a puck on the ice. I’m surprised more people don’t wind up with permanent brain injuries. Or maybe they have, considering the way some behave. Like thugs and hulks.”

I sniffed. “I guess growing up in Beverly Hills and that fancy college education makes him think he’s better than the rest of us. But I never gave it a second thought.” Except he’d made an enemy of me.

A raucous burst of laughter caught my attention from the other side of the bar, and I spotted Rudy. My heart squeezed tight. For the better part of the past six months, he and I had been together. The sex was good, and we’d had fun together. I’d thought maybe he was the one.

Until he’d blindsided me and said he was leaving.

That I wasn’t giving him what he needed, whatever the fuck that meant.

We’d gone out to the clubs, had dinners at great restaurants every night.

He worked for the Blades training staff, and I knew he didn’t make much money, so I’d paid for most things—clothes, all the designer crap he liked, VIP at the clubs and dinners.

What more could he want? I watched him slip his arm around some big guy, and they began to kiss.

I turned my back. My mood grew dark, and I guzzled more champagne.

Rip put a hand on my arm. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. We just won the Cup. Everything is right.” I brandished my bottle. “Another round of champagne.”

“That’s bullshit. You don’t look happy. I’m sorry about you and Rudy.”

I was glad Rip thought he knew me. Maybe he could tell me who I was, besides Denis Bouvier, star goalie and master of failed relationships.

I cracked a brittle smile. “Don’t be. It was just a fling.

There’s always someone new waiting to warm my bed.

No shortage of willing participants.” At that precise moment, Adrian passed by me with a frowning Sterling Forest at his side.

I swore I could smell the man’s disdain oozing from every expensive, spa-loving pore.

“Hi,” Adrian said. “Sterling wanted to fill me in on something that came in late to the newsroom.”

“Must be earth-shattering to track you down at your fiancé’s celebration,” I sneered. “I hope it was worth it.”

“It’s not for public consumption until verified,” Forest stated, and I rolled my eyes. He was an automaton wrapped in a beautiful package.

“Mon dieu. Such secrets.”

“It might be. I’m sorry to intrude on your night,” he told Rip, sounding contrite, but the side-eye he gave me dripped with ego.

“It’s not a problem. I know how hard Adrian’s been working lately. If you need to go to the newsroom, it’s okay.” Rip kissed Adrian. “I’ll hang out here for a while, then go home. We should start thinking about the weekend plans. I’ll call Neil and Lisa and tell them.”

“I can’t believe it,” Adrian exclaimed and leaned into Rip.

“Believe what?” I asked. “Is something special happening?”

Bright-eyed, Rip slung an arm around Adrian’s neck. “We’re getting married. This weekend at my brother’s summer house upstate. We’d love it if you could come, Denis. I know it might seem strange since we were once together, but that was a lifetime ago, wasn’t it?”

My smile was thin. “Mmm. Vraiment.” I’d thrown it all away. But then, you never knew what you had until you lost it.

“Absolutely, Denis,” Adrian added. “I mean, I know Rip would love it if you came.”

But not you.

“Mais oui, how could I turn down such a heartfelt invitation?” Tempering my sarcasm, I extended my hand. “Truly, I’m honored. Thank you. I’d be happy to come and share your special day.”

Adrian beamed and turned to Forest. “Sterling, it would mean the world to me if you could come as well.”

“I-I’m not sure. But thank you for inviting me.” Of course the stiff-necked suit couldn’t give a straight answer.

“I’m sure Adrian is going to invite Rob DeVine,” Rip added. “We’d love to have you as well. Adrian thinks so highly of you and tells me how much he’s learned working under you.”

“Rob’s on vacation this week,” Adrian offered. “Or of course I’d invite him. I hope you can make it, Sterling. It’s not going to be super formal or gigantic.” He gave his sweet smile to Forest, and I could see why Rip loved him. The man was pure goodness wrapped in a very pretty package.

I smirked. “I’m sure he’ll want to come to the most important event of your life.”

Forest directed a withering look my way. “I hardly need anyone, especially you, to answer for me.”

“Especially me?” I arched a brow and took a long pull from my champagne bottle. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer, checking his phone instead. “Hunt, we need to go. My source isn’t going to wait forever.”

Adrian kissed Rip’s cheek, and he and Sterling hurried off.

Rip and I stood side by side. “So, married, eh? I’m very happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He drank some more champagne and laughed as Chitty climbed on the bar, beat his chest, and chugged down almost a full pitcher of beer. “Kid’s gonna be sick before the night is over.”

Seb approached us, carrying a bottle. “Hey, guys, why so serious? We should be dancing. Two in two years, baby.”

“Not sad at all,” Rip said. “Matter of fact, I was just coming to get you. This weekend at Neil and Lisa’s place upstate. Adrian and I are getting married.”

“Yeeeeessssss.” Seb let out an ear-piercing scream and flung himself into Rip’s arms. The entire bar turned silent and craned their necks to look.

“Just two men hugging it out, mes amies. Nothing to see. Go back to celebrating. Go, Blades!” I yelled, held up my bottle, and finished it in one long guzzle. I’d had enough playing nice and mingling for the evening. I needed to get filthy, stinking drunk. Get laid. Maybe both.

I set out to accomplish that by pushing my six-foot-four bulk to the end of the bar and waving to the cute bartender with the curly hair, wearing a Blades cap and a jersey. My jersey. He blushed when I grinned at him.

“Hello, there. You’re new, aren’t you?” I purred.

“Uh, yeah. Just started last week. I’m a huge hockey fan, so this is kinda like my dream job.”

“What’s your name?”

“Marshall.”

“Well, Marshall…” I swiped my tongue across my lower lip, and he ducked his head. “I see you’re wearing my jersey. Am I your favorite player?”