Chapter 1
First solo trip overseas and yes, I did agree to tandem jump with a stranger, off a bridge in Costa Rica. Take your adventures where you can. Trying something new can be exhilarating.
~ Adventurous Amanda, August 2011
“Tell me again why we’re here? I mean, I know why I’m here,” Penny said, her eyes focused on the ice as her boyfriend skated past, sending her a wink before knocking a puck into the net.
“If you’re done mentally stripping Ethan, I was just about to explain,” Amanda said, grinning at the flush staining her best friend’s cheeks. Not that she could blame Penny. There was a ton of hotness out on the ice.
“If you knew what was going on under there, you’d be stripping him, too,” Penny shot back, her cheeks flaming brighter and Amanda didn’t hide her chuckle. She loved how happy her friend was. It was about damn time.
And it wasn’t like she didn’t know what was going on under those uniforms. She’d seen more than enough images online portraying one ripped hockey player after another. Not that she was scoping out anyone in particular. Nope. Definitely not number thirty-three. She turned her focus back to her friend, the cool air in the arena a welcome relief.
“So you pitched a hockey article to a lifestyle magazine and you don’t even like sports?” Penny asked, her quizzical expression justified when she stated it that way.
“I know. Totally random. But I’m so freaking bored and I threw out the idea to Betsy a few days ago and she jumped on it like a person on a diet who hasn’t tasted a donut in ages. Which, in her case, is pretty damn accurate. Nothing good comes from that much kale.”
Penny wrinkled her nose, and Amanda laughed.
“I’m still amazed you’ve lasted over a year working for that woman,” Penny said. Amanda had shared her fair share of horror stories about her boss, dragon editor-in-chief.
“It’s been over eighteen months. Aren’t you proud?”
“You haven’t stayed in one place for this long since college.” Penny leaned in, wrapping her arm around Amanda. “And I know you’re itching to travel again, but I selfishly want you to stay put.”
“I know. And I’m glad I’m here, but I’m hoping these articles serve a dual purpose. Mainly, getting Betsy to give me more articles, and to weasel my way in to the travel department.” Sure, it wasn’t ideal. She’d rather go back to traveling the globe, but without a steady stream of income, her ideal was impossible.
Her salary as an editorial assistant for San Francisco Life only covered her basic expenses, with little left over, and she did not want to be an assistant forever. After traveling to more locations than she could count, being chained to a desk for the last eighteen months was torture. If she could find a way to move from editorial assistant to travel staff writer, she’d at least be able to get a portion of her trips covered by the magazine. They preferred to stay stateside, but a few times a year they covered exotic locales. That’s what she was aiming for.
“And this article is going to do that?” Penny asked.
“This isn’t just a sports article. It’s a four-part series about activities tourists can do in the city that aren’t super touristy. Everyone knows to visit the Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory, take a cable car ride, and shop at Fisherman’s Wharf, but my articles will be different. What to do around the city as a local. Spots you won’t find in a travel guide.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“I hope so.” It was a puff piece at best, but it was a start. “And who wouldn’t want to visit the city and take in a hockey game?”
“They are fun to watch,” Penny said, staring back at the ice. Ethan skated over and blew Penny a kiss before heading back to the locker room to wait for the game to officially start.
Amanda chuckled at her friend’s sigh. “Not everyone gets to fall in love with a hockey player.”
“It’s the best way to go,” Penny said, with a grin. “Okay, so tell me more. I swear I’m listening.”
Amanda shook her head. “Anyway. I’m focusing on all the local pro sports teams, but baseball season hasn’t started, and football just ended. And I like hockey. This isn’t even my first game this season,” Amanda said, scoping number thirty-three as he skated by.
“Uh huh. Sure you do,” Penny said, but Amanda ignored her and focused on the ice.
They’d arrived early for warm-ups, but really it was so Penny could watch Ethan skate around with no helmet on. Not that Amanda could blame her. So many gorgeous guys in one place and they chose to cover up their faces. Apparently, a stray hockey puck to an unguarded forehead before the game started was not something the players were on board with.
Safety over pleasing their fans. Hockey players were so selfish. She laughed at herself, remembering that exact conversation she’d had with the team captain a few months ago. The night she’d pathetically flirted with Ben, Captain Cheesy. A nickname that definitely didn’t fit the overly serious man.
Of course, shortly after that, he’d given her a ride home and shocked the hell out of her with an all-consuming kiss that had rocked her to the tips of her boots. A kiss that wouldn’t leave her thoughts and that she desperately wanted to repeat…and repeat…and repeat again. But he’d avoided her like the plague ever since.
He was a walking contradiction. Quiet, awkward, serious to a fault, but he kissed with a commanding, take charge attitude that she’d gladly relinquish control to. And she rarely gave up control to a man, if ever. She didn’t know how to read him, but she wanted to strip him down and climb his gorgeous body like a tree.
“But do you know enough to write an article?” Penny asked, cutting through all thoughts of Captain Cheese and that kiss. His mouth on hers, stealing every breath and brain cell she had. How he’d leaned down to kiss her because of his giant stature. She fought back the shiver and pushed the memory aside.
“That’s why I have you. Now that you’re an expert, you can help,” she said, turning her pleading eyes on her friend.
She wouldn’t tell Penny she’d pitched the article just to have an excuse to see Ben again. Or that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or his lips pressed to hers, his tongue sweeping away all cognizant thought. No. She definitely wasn’t here for that. It was all about the game.
***
A short while later, the guys were back on the ice. The anthems were sung and the first period started. Amanda turned her focus to the game as the object of her fantasies skated past again, the puck on his stick, his body shifting with each glide on the ice. It really was a thing of beauty.
“Do you want my book?” Penny asked, pulling Amanda from her drool-worthy thoughts.
“I should be good. It’s more of a surface piece. Getting tourists to experience more of the city,” she said. Ethan had given Penny Hockey Made Easy, a book to help her understand the sport. Penny’s love of facts was not a secret. It was adorable, and Penny had blasted through the book, becoming an expert in no time.
“Well, I can answer most of your questions. Or you can ask the guys after the game. Are you coming out tonight?” Penny asked, then popped a pretzel bite in her mouth.
“Probably not. Talking to the players isn’t something that everyone would be able to do, so I’m just going to base it on my observations. And maybe I’ll cite you as a reference.”
“Back up. You’re passing up a night out with hot hockey players? Are you feeling okay?” Penny asked, reaching up to put her hand on Amanda’s forehead.
Amanda leaned back. “Very funny, Penny. I’m fine. Just have a few posts I’m working on for my own blog that I need to finish tonight.”
“You work too much.”
Amanda laughed. “Says the workaholic.”
“I’ve been much better about that,” Penny said, her eyes glued back to the ice.
“So true. At least he’s good for something,” Amanda said, grinning. She could kiss Ethan for bringing her friend back to life. Friends for a decade, since Penny had stumbled into their shared dorm room the first day of college, Amanda had never seen Penny this happy. It was about damn time.
“He’s good for a lot of things,” Penny said, wistfully.
“Oh, do tell.”
Penny’s cheeks bloomed a brilliant red. “Nope. We were talking about you working too much.”
“I’d rather talk about this article. So, explain hockey to me, again.”
“Just watch. You’ll catch on. Just follow the puck,” Penny said.
“They’re so freaking fast,” she said, turning her attention back to the ice.
“They’re amazing,” Penny said, that wistful tone back as she watched Ethan.
Amanda tried to focus on the puck, on the guys skating up and down the ice. She wanted to go out with them tonight. She always wanted to go out. Being the life of the party was her M.O., and she’d perfected it over the years. But she had to write. Adventurous Amanda might be landlocked, but if she wanted to keep her subscribers interested, she had to dig deep for compelling content. She needed to plan a getaway outside of California in the very near future to give them something.
“Come on, Ethan.” Penny’s voice cut through Amanda’s thoughts, as did Penny’s grip on Amanda’s arm.
Amanda looked up just in time to see Ethan streaking down the ice, Cheesy in line with him.
Cheesy was pure speed and power on the ice. It was hot as hell. She’d bet anything that his face was pure determination. He’d looked at her with that same face right before he’d kissed her. She tamped down the shiver that rocked through her, the shiver that had nothing to do with the chilled temperature in the arena.
She didn’t want to think about him, but he lingered. More than any other guy in recent history. She was definitely going to find a way to kiss him again. She could be just as determined as him.
Ben shot down the ice, the cool air on his face, the puck on his stick. He’d never get enough of being out here. Doing what he’d loved since he was old enough to toddle across the ice toward his dad when he was three. The roar of the crowd disappeared as he honed in his focus on the net, deking around one of Anaheim’s top defensemen, before shooting it toward the back of the net, aiming high blocker side, the goalie’s weak spot, but it banged off the pipes, the clang ringing in Ben’s ears.
Harty grabbed the rebound and knocked it between the goalie’s legs. The arena exploded, the music cranked, and the crowd rose to their feet. Exhilaration shot through Ben as the guys barreled into a group hug and he patted each teammate on their helmets.
“Great shot, man,” Baz, team prankster and one of the best defensemen in the league shouted out, his grin wide, teeth missing. “Glad to see you got your shit together and got your good luck charm back.”
“I swear, I’m stowing her on the plane for our away games,” Ethan, known to his teammates as Harty, said with a laugh, then looked into the stands at his girlfriend, Penny.
Ben couldn’t fault the idea. They won when Penny was there. Well, most of the time. Or maybe Harty just focused more. Whatever it was, it worked. And hockey players were superstitious as hell. But superstitions were part of the routine. He preferred to think of them as quirks. He was just glad that most of his weren’t out there for the world to see. He liked to keep things close to the vest.
“We’ll take her,” Baz chimed in, cutting through Ben’s thoughts as they skated past their teammates, tapping gloves, before they slid onto the bench to wait for their next shift.
Ben looked up into the crowd. Not that he wanted to seek out Penny, or the woman sitting next to her. The woman he’d made an ass out of himself in front of last month. Amanda. With her perfectly petite body that he wanted to cradle against his, and her blue-gray eyes filled with pure mischief. She was trouble and should be avoided, but he wanted her.
He hadn’t felt this strong a need in years, and he ached to kiss her again. Not that she’d requested he push her up against her front door like he was slamming a guy into the boards, but she hadn’t balked. Hell, Ben was pretty sure she’d loved it.
But he’d panicked, pulling away and apologizing profusely before stumbling down her front steps and escaping to his car. Captain Smooth. Yet he couldn’t forget her hand brushing her probably bruised lips as she leaned against her door, under the light, when he’d pulled away from her house.
Definitely not his most shining moment. And it didn’t explain why he had the overwhelming urge to do it again. But without the running away part.
He didn’t have time for distractions, and Amanda was a big, blinking light of distraction. Getting into trouble with her sounded way too appealing right now.
She tied him up in knots. That kiss had been such a bad idea, as was the bumbling awkwardness that followed. He never should’ve kissed her. She’d shot him a small wave during warm-ups, and he’d almost tripped over his skate. Freaking knots.
“You gonna move?” Harty asked, nudging Ben, and Ben shook his head, sliding over to the right.
Damn, she was messing with his head. He had a game to win. A team to bolster. It was early February and the season was racing to the end. They were playing great in the back end of the season, and they needed to continue on that track. Making it to the post season was a start, since they hadn’t done so in years. Losing first round in the playoffs last year sucked.
They were in playoff contention right now, and Ben was determined to remain solidly in the top three spots of the division. Currently they were swapping places back and forth with Anaheim, between the third spot and the first wild card.
Tonight they were playing Anaheim, and he refused to switch places in the standings with them again. They were up two-one in the beginning of the third. He was determined for Anaheim to walk away with no points tonight, especially since the Strikers play Pittsburgh next, one of the top teams in the league. Anaheim will face Colorado, who were currently hovering in last place. But every team had to win some games.
Ben shook his head, now he was rooting for Colorado?
The goal horn sounded, and it wasn’t the Strikers’ cheer that followed. His head shot up just in time to see the Anaheim players crash into each other in a hug, while their remaining teammates banged their sticks on the outside of their bench.
Shit.
How had he missed that? His focus was off tonight, and he was placing the blame solely on those petite shoulders and that neck he ached to nibble on. And those lips he wanted to taste again.
He shook his head, and watched the goal on the jumbotron. Anaheim had snagged the puck from Westy and scored on a breakaway. Gally, the Strikers’ goalie, never had a chance. Westy was currently up from the minors and centering the fourth line. And that line needed some work. With guys switching in and out from their minor league team, the line lacked the cohesion needed to put up points.
Some guys couldn’t make the jump to the big show, but Ben caught the spark in Westy’s eyes at practice. The guy had the skill to play with the Strikers, he just needed more confidence in his game.
As the TV timeout started and their coach barked at them to listen up, Ben tapped Westy’s helmet.
“Happens to the best of us,” Ben said.
“Fucking sucks,” the kid muttered.
“Yeah. But this game isn’t over yet.” Ben shot Westy a smile. Maybe he’d take some time with the kid after practice to work on stick handling. “If you have time after practice tomorrow, we can go over a few things.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Of course. Extra practice never hurt anyone. I have some stuff of my own to work on,” he said.
“Cheesy, if you’re done having your moment, how about you focus on the board,” Rob Malone, known as Bugsy, and the current Strikers’ coach, called out.
Ben caught the approval in his coach’s eyes before Bugsy pointed back to the whiteboard.
They had fifteen minutes to score another goal. Totally doable, as long as Anaheim didn’t get another past Gally.
When the final buzzer sounded, they were still tied at two apiece and headed into overtime. Not the scenario Ben wanted, but as they headed into three-on-three overtime, with Baz on his left and Harty on his right, Ben refused to give Anaheim the extra point.
He won the face-off, sending the puck back to Harty with Anaheim on their tail as they headed toward the net. Harty shot it just wide, and Anaheim’s top center grabbed it, skating back down toward Gally. It rang off the pipes and Ben snagged it. He was running out of steam, but he sped down the ice, the puck on his stick, his sole focus on the goalie. He made a move to go glove side and as soon as the goalie nudged his shoulder up, Ben shot it between the guy’s legs.
The goal horn blared and the crowd roared, as his teammates hopped over the boards and flooded the ice, barreling into him and crashing into the boards in a massive group hug. Ben would never get over the thrill of each goal. The excitement of every single one of his teammates as they won in front of their hometown fans.
Nothing in the world was better than hockey. And he would not look up into the stands and catch Amanda jumping up and down and clapping in front of her seat.
Dammit. Why was she so freaking adorable?
Yep. He was definitely in trouble.