Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Kolby
All I want for Christmas is my teammate’s ex-wife under the mistletoe.
Why?
Because she’s the fucking definition of meant for me.
Hell, her name is Destiny for crying out loud.
Destiny McKenzie.
We’ve crossed paths twice – with this being the second – and both times I forgot my name.
My. Own. Fucking. Name.
Thank the lord, I was wearing my practice jersey when we first met.
And thank that big bench boss in the sky again that she remembered it this sesh.
I – yet again – didn’t.
Or couldn’t.
There’s something about just being around her that melts my very basic ability to think, which isn’t fucking handy, considering I need to be able to do that to have an actual conversation with her.
One that consists of more than goofy grins and weird gurgling noises.
Fuck, she probably thinks I don’t know how to speak anymore given the amount of times I’ve crashed headfirst into the boards.
Truth?
The number of concussions I’ve suffered is really low on paper but probably a lot higher off.
Pretty sure she’s a doctor.
Wonder if she can just…tell that by looking at me?
I give the back of my light beige colored neck a bashful squeeze at the same time I open my mouth to say something – fuck anything at this point will do – when her attention snaps away to someone sprinting past me.
“Stop!” Destiny shouts prior to taking off. “Stop him! Stop him! That’s my son!”
Oh yeah.
Now, is definitely not the time to try to finagle her into inching two steps to the left to get my holiday wish.
“Stop him!” she continues to scream, long, light brown sugar toned legs covered by candy cane covered tights, rapidly moving in pursuit. “Security! Security!” Following after her thoughtlessly occurs. “Anyone! Help! Help!”
Me.
I’m anyone!
I can save him!
All of a sudden, my older half-brother, Slater steps away from the checkout counter that’s around the corner we’re passing, just in time to see as much as hear the commotion.
“Stop him!” Destiny pleads with the random onlookers who are simply watching the scene unfold. “That man has my son!”
Unlike me – who always hesitates when it comes to decision making off the ice – Slater goes from bench sitting to full fucking PK – penalty kill – mode.
“I’m on it!” His bags dramatically hitting the ground precedes his commands by just a couple of seconds.
“Kolby, get her ass somewhere safe!” The kidnapper dips around another display hoping to hide the direction he’s taking. “Somewhere with lots of witnesses!”
Why?
Why witnesses?
They’re clearly not trying to kidnap her.
Of course there’s no real time to ask that question or any question for that matter.
“Now!” He bellows oversized, 6’2 frame in motion. “I’ll get the kid!”
I nod despite the fact he’s not looking in my direction and call out to the breathtaking woman ahead of me, “Destiny, stop!
“I’m not fucking stopping!” She barks back, voice quivering and panting, painting a perfect picture of a different kind at a very unperfect time. “I can catch him! I have to! That’s my son!”
Sprinting a bit ahead to cut her off is easily done; however, managing to imprison her in my arms is not.
She flails around, fuzzy white sweater covered arms desperately extending past one side of my face.
The other. Tiny kicks are followed by an attempt to shove me away, and once her hands are in a better position for seizing, I don’t waste a second to do so.
Her small, balled up, trapped fists furiously pound on the gingerbread man that’s plastered on the front of my sweater – my brother claims my twin nieces, Allaira and Alura aka Lair Bear and Lu, picked this out for me last year – doing their best to pulverize everything in their path.
While the hits themselves don’t hurt – not even stub a toe level of pain – I can’t deny the ache spreading through my chest.
The puck sized pang plummeting to the pit of my stomach.
I don’t want her mad.
Or sad.
Or scared.
And I damn sure don’t want her thinking I’m the type of prick to just stand ideally by when she needs him the most.
“Letmego! Letmego!” Her entire frame wildly whips around, dark brown wavy strands working their way loose from the bun pinned to the top of her head. “Letmefuckinggo!”
“No.”
“IsaidletmegoWahl! I can still get to him!”
“No.”
“Letmefuckinggo!” Destiny’s movements not only increase in frenzy but in violence. She hastily lifts her knee to nail me in the nuts at the same time she commands, “Now!”
Dodging the strike takes some impressive maneuvering from my lower half, once more working off the entire batch of Galletitas De Nuez the girls and I ate during my babysitting duty last night. The same duty that led to me guilt tripping their father into joining me for some not so casual shopping.
It turns out, I don’t know that part of my home team as well as I thought.
Then again, that may have just been the casual lie I convinced myself to be the truth to avoid having to deal with shopping rather than focusing on helping my hockey team, The Dalvegan Dragons, keep up our win-streak this season.
“Wahl-”
“Enough.” Flexing my arms tighter is attached to capturing her light brown glare with my blue. “I’m not about to let somethin’ happen to you too.”
Destiny’s jaw trembles along with her words, “But-”
“My brother’s got this.”
“But-”
“He literally does this for a livin’.”
“But-”
“Alright, he used to.” My grip shifts to one that’s slightly softer.
Warmer. “Now, he trains other people on how to do it.” I let my head casually bounce side to side.
“Mostly. If his wife asks, only. I’m honestly not sure if she knows he lets himself get roped into an actual assignment every now and again. ”
Huh.
Does this shit count as one of those times?
“But-”
“Nope. The only butt we’re gonna be talkin’ about is mine, and how amazin’ it is ‘cause we all know, hockey players have the most amazin’ asses. Hands down.”
At that, Destiny’s shoulders finally peal themselves away from her ears. “What?”
“We all know-”
“Who is we?”
“Uh…society?”
“So, you speak for all of society now?”
“Yes.” Seeing her dark eyebrows twitch has me quickly recanting my statement. “No.” Another amused flicker pushes me to change my mind yet again. “Maybe? Some of it?” Verbally floundering can’t be stopped. “The sports society?”
“You mean the store in the Locker District?”
“No, I meant – Well, I mean – Okay, but I thought-” tripping over myself abruptly comes to an end at the sight of her beginning to smirk. “You’re fuckin’ with me, aren’t ya?”
“Absolutely.” Seeing the edges of her lips completely curl upward ceases any ability to breathe. “And I’m trusting you, Wahl. I’m trusting that you’re the great guy everyone on the team says you are, and that your brother is going to save Oakley.”
“He is. And while he does that, I’m gonna do what a good d man on the same line does.” My hands glide just a little lower to rest on the small of her back. “Protect the most important player on the ice.”