The Hockey Coach's Return

Chapter 1

Chapter One

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. The departures board at Boston Logan International Airport looked like it had declared war on happiness.

Canceled.

Canceled.

Delayed.

Canceled.

Dean Fields stood beneath the sea of red lettering with his carry-on at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck as another announcement crackled through the terminal.

Around him, frustrated travelers sighed, argued with gate agents, or stared blankly at their phones as if willing the weather to cooperate.

No such luck. The hurricane riding up the East Coast had other plans for all of them. Mother Nature was in a bad fucking mood today.

He pulled out his own phone again, more out of habit than hope. Still nothing from the airline. The customer service line snaked halfway through the terminal, looking less like a queue and more like a support group for the stranded.

His fingers moved quickly across the screen as he composed a text.

Flight canceled. Need to get back to Baltimore ASAP. Any chance you can work some magic? Hotel for the night would help if not. Airport is a zoo.

He hit send to the Stingrays’ Director of Team Administration and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Tomorrow night’s preseason game suddenly felt a lot closer than twenty-four hours away.

He’d considered renting a car or even checking into a train, but it sounded like the worst of the weather would pass by them tonight, and the idea of driving through it was less appealing than just riding the storm out here and getting a new flight tomorrow.

Ordinarily, missing an exhibition game wouldn’t be the end of the world, but he was the head coach. Showing up mattered. Especially after disappearing for nearly a week. Though, his mother had insisted she was fine before he’d even boarded the plane to travel to Boston.

“Dean, honestly, it’s just a mild heart attack. They’re keeping me for observation because that’s what hospitals do. Cha-ching.”

Only his mother could make cardiac issues sound like an inconvenience or money-making conspiracy hatched by insurance companies.

Sure, the doctors were optimistic. Probably because she’d been bossing the nurses around and had threatened to check herself out twice before his father convinced her to stay put.

His father, meanwhile, had looked ten years older when Dean walked through the hospital doors. Seeing the strongest man he’d ever known completely unraveled by fear had shaken Dean more than he cared to admit.

It didn’t help that his parents hadn’t been at their own home in Phoenix when it happened, but spending a couple weeks with his dad’s sister, Aunt Sissy.

He’d spent four days grabbing meals for everyone, handling phone calls, reassuring his dad, and pretending he wasn’t terrified every time a monitor in Mom’s hospital room beeped.

Now his mother was back at Aunt Sissy’s, recovering, and Dean had promised he’d come back to Boston after the team’s exhibition schedule wrapped up in a week, if needed.

“Dean?”

The familiar voice cut through the airport noise, and he turned.

For a split second, his brain refused to connect the person standing ten feet away with the woman he assumed was in Baltimore…which was where he was supposed to be. “Vivian?”

She smiled, though it looked tired around the edges. “This is unexpected.”

He laughed despite himself. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Vivian Kelly was his best defenseman, Victor’s, little sister. A genetic counselor at Johns Hopkins and mother to an adorable five-year-old daughter, Pip.

He and Vivian had first met twelve years earlier, when she was eighteen and home from college for Christmas, and he was still sporting the Stingrays jersey on the ice.

Back then, she’d been all strong opinions and ambitious plans, somehow unfazed by sitting in a crowded sports bar surrounded by professional hockey players.

Not that that was surprising, considering her brother was always sitting right next to her.

Vivian had given Dean the impression that while she was a fan of the sport, she didn’t put the players on elevated pedestals like most of the other women—puck bunnies—hovering around that same table.

He hadn’t really paid much attention to Vivian at the time, to be honest. She’d been very young, and Victor would have kicked the ass of any teammate who’d flirted with his kid sister. Victor took overprotectiveness to extremes, though Dean could understand that concept…now.

Dean was an only child, so he had no practical experience when it came to sibling relationships. He was also a professional bachelor—the world champion when it came to casual dating. As such, he’d never formed any long-lasting, committed relationships where he’d felt protective of a woman.

It had taken a newly forged relationship with his twenty-four-year-old daughter, McKenna, to show Dean that, like Victor, he possessed a chest-beating gene that had him going all caveman whenever it came to men sniffing around his Kenny.

God knew that gene had been triggered hard when the Rays’ resident playboy, Tank Phillips, had started a relationship with McKenna.

Mercifully, his right winger’s intentions had been good…

or things could have gotten ugly for the young man.

Nowadays, Vivian looked different than she had all those years ago.

Older, obviously. Still confident, but in a quieter way.

She had the same dark hair as her brother, and today, it was pulled into a loose knot, with a few escaped strands framing her face.

She had glasses perched on top of her head and a laptop bag slung across one shoulder.

There was nothing flashy about her, yet people unconsciously stepped around her in the terminal, as if poise generated its own kind of space.

He’d seen her quite a bit this past year, since taking over as Baltimore’s head coach last season.

Usually at Victor’s house for team pool parties and the occasional dinner.

He’d even attended a welcome home celebration Victor had thrown a month earlier, when Vivian returned home after working in Africa for a few months.

Typically, they shared brief conversations before moving on to socialize with others.

They’d seen each other enough that he figured they’d made the leap from acquaintances to something resembling friendship, though they were more “same social circle” type of friends than bosom buddies or close confidantes.

To be honest, most of what Dean knew about Vivian’s personal life had been delivered secondhand from Victor, whenever the two of them met up for drinks, rather than from Vivian herself.

“What are you doing in Boston?” he asked.

“I had a meeting with my editor.”

He frowned for a moment before a light went on. “Oh, right. You wrote a book. I remember Victor mentioning that.”

“I finally finished the research during that Africa trip and managed to complete the first draft.” She tapped her laptop case. “Now begins the dreary part. Edits.” She made a face that proved she wasn’t looking forward to that task.

Victor had shared some details about Vivian’s African trip, briefly explaining that she’d gone to gather data for the writing project.

Her daughter, Pip, stayed in Baltimore with her uncle.

At first, Victor had grumbled about becoming a full-time babysitter, even though Dean knew the guy was all bluster and full of shit.

No uncle had ever loved his niece more than Victor loved Pip.

Then, Victor had fallen hopelessly in love with Pip’s nanny, Belle, and the complaining ended full stop.

“What brings you to Boston?” Vivian asked. “Don’t you guys have a game tomorrow night?”

“My mom had a mild heart attack.”

Compassion softened her features immediately. “Oh, Dean. I’m sorry. Victor didn’t tell me. I’m sure that’s been very stressful for you and your parents.”

“The doctors say she’ll be okay, and if attitude alone can mend a heart, then there’s a good chance my mom will live to be a hundred and twelve.”

Vivian grinned. “I hope that’s exactly what happens.”

“So do I.”

For a moment, they stood quietly while another delayed flight announcement was delivered over the PA.

Vivian sighed. “I suppose we’re both stuck.”

“Looks that way.”

“My original flight was supposed to leave at the ass crack of dawn this morning. When it was canceled, they put me on standby for this one,” she said, and he suddenly understood why she looked so tired.

He’d been grumpy about having to hang out here a few hours.

Vivian had been playing the waiting game a lot longer.

“And it got canceled too. You’ve had a rougher day than me,” he admitted.

She glanced toward the endless customer service line.

“I’ve been in this line for forty-five minutes,” he grumbled.

“Only forty-five?” she joked. “I spent two and a half hours in line after the first canceled flight.”

“Thanks for bolstering my spirits,” he said, grimacing.

She laughed.

“Let me guess. Pip is with Belle and Victor?” he asked.

Vivian nodded. “I just called a few minutes ago to tell her I wasn’t making it home tonight.”

“Was she upset?”

She rolled her eyes. “For approximately twelve seconds.”

Dean snorted. “What happened after twelve seconds?”

“Victor told her they could order pizza.”

Dean wasn’t surprised by that. At the first sign of distress in his niece, Victor went into overdrive, offering the kid the moon if it would ward off her tears.

While Victor was a beast on the ice, that gruff exterior melted completely away, leaving nothing but a giant marshmallow, when it came to Pip, and now Belle.

“Ouch,” he replied with a grin.

“Yep. It’s a tough pill to swallow when you learn exactly where you rank in your kid’s life. I was edged out by pepperoni.”

He nodded solemnly, feigning a seriousness he didn’t feel. “In all fairness, that’s tough competition. I’d kill for a pepperoni pizza right now. It’s been a long time since breakfast.”