On the Surface (In the Zone)
Read On the Surface (In the Zone) Online
Authors: Kate Willoughby
On the Surface
By Kate Willoughby
Book one of In the Zone
NHL player Tim Hollander lost his temper
one time
and threw a water bottle at an abusive fan. After “Bottlegate,” he’s traded to the San Diego Barracudas, where he’ll need to keep the bad publicity to a minimum while proving he can still compete with the younger guys on the ice.
Erin Collier is a pediatric nurse who’s never seen a hockey game, but gets in line for Tim’s autograph at a PR event in hopes of impressing the doctor she has a crush on. When an obnoxious fan gets pushy toward Erin, Tim rushes to defend the pretty stranger, throwing a punch in the process.
Grateful for the rescue, Erin agrees to stand by Tim during the resulting press conference and host him at a hospital charity event. Their chemistry is palpable, and soon their lives are intertwined. But Erin doubts a hockey player is capable of anything resembling a real relationship. And if Tim can’t get her to see beyond what’s on the surface, they’ll never last longer than a single season....
95,000 words
Dear Reader,
I’m jumping right into it this month because
New York Times
bestselling author Shannon Stacey’s next book in the Kowalski series is out in both digital and print at the end of April.
Taken with You
is the story of girlie-girl librarian, Hailey. She’s easy to get along with, is a small-town girl who loves where she lives, but she also loves nice clothes and fine dining and is looking for a guy who will be there when she comes home at night, and who will dress up and take her out to something a little more upscale than the local diner. It’s also the story of Matt, a hunky forest ranger who loves the outdoors, loves his dog, and is looking for a woman who doesn’t mind his erratic hours, will take a muddy ride on an ATV and won’t kick him out of the house when he walks in covered in dirt. Needless to say, these two opposites attract when Matt moves in next door to Hailey, and their story will take you on a wonderful romantic rollercoaster that will leave you with that happy-book sigh at the end.
If you love the TV show
Scandal
, have I got a new series for you. In Emma Barry’s Washington, D.C.-set, politically charged
Special Interests
, a shy labor organizer and an arrogant congressional aide clash over the federal budget but find love the more difficult negotiation.
April also brings a week of sports-related romance releases at Carina Press and we have six fantastic, very different contemporary sports romances being added to our already fantastic sports romance lineup. Allison Parr’s
Imaginary Lines
continues her new adult series. Tamar fell hopelessly in love with Abraham Krasner at age twelve, but knew he’d never see her as more than the girl next door—until years later, she gets a sports journalist position covering the NFL team Abe plays for...
Author Michele Mannon follows up
Knock Out
with
Tap Out
. Underwear model and playboy extraordinaire Caden Kelly will let nothing stop his come-back as an MMA fighter, especially a red-headed busy-bodied reporter hell writes the London Legends series about the world’s hottest rugby team. Book two,
Playing It Close
, features the team captain and a scandalous woman with whom he spent one passionate night and never thought he’d see again—until she turns out to be his team’s newest sponsor.
Kate Willoughby brings the on-the-ice action when a hunky hockey player falls helmet over skates for a nurse, but has to convince her he’s not the typical different-puck-bunny-every-day athlete in
On the Surface
. In a much warmer-weather sport, professional tennis player Regan Hunter’s temper is as notorious as her unstoppable serve, but love and ambition will go head-to-head when she meets former player-turned-coach Ben Percy. Check out
Love in Straight Sets
by Rebecca Crowley.
And because we can’t leave out America’s favorite sport, Rhonda Shaw’s
The Ace
brings us a sexy baseball romance in a follow-up to her debut,
The Changeup
. “Love ’em and leave ’em” is real estate agent Karen Bently’s motto—that is until her longtime crush, ace pitcher Jerry Smutton, sets her in his sights and offers her a proposal she can’t resist.
But it’s not all contemporary romance all the time in April. We have an eclectic selection of books from a lineup of talented authors (as always, right?). R.L. Naquin is back with her popular Monster Haven series. If you haven’t checked out this fun, sometimes zany, but always adorable series, look for book one,
Monster in My Closet
, at all of our retail digital partners. This month’s installment,
Golem in My Glovebox
, finds crazy shenanigans mixed with a gruesome, cross-country trail of clues, as Zoey and Riley attempt to save the rest of the country’s Aegises—and ultimately, Zoey’s lost mother.
PJ Schnyder is wrapping up her London Undead trilogy with
Survive to Dawn
, in which werewolf and pack medic, Danny, must choose between his Alpha’s orders and the human witch who might have the cure to the zombie plague. And in the second installment of the Once Upon a Red World science fiction romance saga from Jael Wye, the tale of Jack and the Beanstalk unfolds on a devastated Earth 300 years in the future in
Ladder to the Red Star
.
A.J. Larrieu debuts with her first full-length paranormal romance novel,
Twisted Miracles
. A reluctant telekinetic is drawn back to New Orleans’ supernatural underworld when her friend goes missing, but once she’s there, she finds her powers—and her attraction to the sexy ex-boyfriend who trained her—are stronger than ever. Talented fantasy author Angela Highland is back with Rebels of Adalonia book two in her epic fantasy
Vengeance of the Hunter
. As rebellion ignites across Adalonia, the healer Faanshi must save both the Hawk Kestar Vaarsen and the assassin Julian—the one from magical annihilation at the hands of his Church, and the other from a path of revenge.
For mystery fans, we welcome author Delynn Royer to Carina Press with her book,
It Had to Be You
. An ambitious tabloid reporter stumbles upon the story of her career when she joins up with a jaded homicide detective to solve the Central Park murder of a notorious bootlegger in 1920s Manhattan.
Rounding out the April lineup is a book for all Regency historical romance fans. Wendy Soliman’s Forsters series wraps up with
Romancing the Runaway
. When Miranda and Gabe discover her childhood home has been stripped of all its valuables, Gabe uncovers more to the old house than either of them had imagined. And with Gabe’s safety hanging in the balance, Miranda is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice...
I’m confident you’ll find something to love among these books and I hope we provide you with many hours of reading enjoyment and escape from the neverending dishes!
Coming next month: Fan favorite male/male author Josh Lanyon, an amazing science fiction lineup, more sexy cowboys and hot moments from Leah Braemel and so much more!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
For my brother, Aaron, and my sister-in-law, Kim.
Acknowledgments
I am grateful to many people for helping me write this book.
Michael Bulger helped with naming the team and answering general hockey questions. Tammy Gavilan, Lynne Marshall and Tina Green were my personal medical consultants. Yvonne M. gave me the heart-transplant idea. For general and odd hockey information, I owe a debt of gratitude to John Lord, Aaron Dong, Adam Hatrack, the “A Day in the Life of a Hockey Wife” blogger and her husband, “Hockey Player.” I’m also grateful to Ryan Van Asten, trainer for the Los Angeles Kings, for answering my Twitter questions. Any mistakes in this book are all their fault. Just kidding. They’re totally mine.
Thanks to Matt Raymond for his expertise about obtaining celebrity autographs, Shari Slade and Jennifer Genova for beta reads, the regulars in the Romance Divas’ chat room and WriteChat.net for their whip-cracking, and the awesomely inspiring (and really sexy) 2012 Stanley Cup Champions, the Los Angeles Kings.
Lastly, I would not have written this book if not for the help, support, skill and patience of my critique partner, Dee J. Adams, my sister-in-law, Kimberly Cannon, and my editor, Melissa Johnson.
Contents
San Diego Barracudas (partial team roster)
#25—Tim Hollander, “Holly,” right wing.
#11—Alex Sullivan, “Sully,” left wing.
#35—Jason Locke, “Locksy,” center and team captain.
#15—Calder Griffin, “Griff,” left wing.
#8—Jean-Claude Chastain, “Chassy,” defenseman.
#27—Mike Primavera, “Preemy” or “Pasta,” rookie defenseman.
#19—John Weinrich, “Whiner,” rookie defenseman.
#41—Booth MacDonald, “Macky,” starting goaltender.
#20—Gil Carpenter, “Carps,” center.
There is no hope unmingled with fear,
and no fear unmingled with hope.
—Baruch Spinoza
Only when we are no longer afraid
do we begin to
live.
—Dorothy Thompson
Chapter One
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
Tim Hollander considered his friend Alex’s question as he perused the selection of free weights. “I was thirteen,” he replied with a straight face.
His other friend, Jason, scoffed. “The fuck you were.”
Tim chuckled. “All right. I was twenty.”
“Twenty?” They both looked at Tim, shocked.
Tim, Jason and Alex were working out together in Jason’s home gym. Once upon a time, the three of them had played for the New York Rangers, and even though they’d eventually moved to different NHL teams, they’d remained good friends. Now over a decade later, they’d been professionally reunited as San Diego Barracudas.
“I was a fucking late bloomer,” Tim said. “I cared about hockey more than I cared about getting laid. Sue me.”
Jason’s home was within spitting distance of one of the most exclusive beaches in San Diego, so the three of them had a fantastic view of the surf as they worked out. These days, players had to come into training camp in peak condition. The off-season was no longer a couple of months of vacation and then a month of getting back in shape. In today’s NHL, you couldn’t afford to ever get
out
of shape.
“Hey, I don’t give a shit when you lost your virginity,” Alex said. “I’m just trying to help you find a number.”
Tim’s old jersey number, twenty-one, was taken.
“How old were
you?
” Tim asked Alex.
“I was sixteen. Marissa Monteleone,” Alex said with a grin. He punched some buttons on the elliptical. “What sweet fucking pussy she had. I swear to God it tasted like peach pie.”
“My first time was with a girl named Alison,” Tim said. “At the Calgary Hilton.”
Alex blinked. “No shit. At the draft?”
Tim nodded as he picked up a pair of dumbbells and started doing curls. “It was a good year,” he said with a laugh.
“I’ll say. Sex and hockey, that’s about all I need or want in life,” Alex said. “That and beer. Can’t forget beer.”
Jason got onto the stationary bike. “You know, I appreciate a stroll down Memory Fucking Lane as much as the next guy, but I thought we were trying to find Tim a new number.”
“I do want a new number,” Tim replied. “I told you, I don’t want anything from last season to haunt me now and that includes my number.”
“Wait a second,” Alex said, grabbing the handles of the machine and starting to work. “Let me get this straight. You’re getting rid of that butt-ugly polka-dot tie?”
Tim scowled. Like a lot of players, Tim had a preference for particular items of game day clothing. “First of all, it wasn’t butt-ugly, and yes, I got rid of it.” He looked at Jason. “Did you think it was ugly?”
“Hell, yes.”
Tim scoffed. “Well, let me know the next time someone nominates either one of you fuckers for a fashion award.”
They all chuckled.
“So, what about the number twenty?” Alex asked. “You have good memories of your first fuck, right?”
Tim nodded, increasing the resistance on his bike. “Sure I do. Twenty would be okay.”
“Unfortunately,” Jason said, “the pussy inaugural number twenty is out. That’s Carpenter’s number.”
“Shit.” Tim looked at Alex. “Does
your
number have a special significance?”
“That’s how long my dick is.”
Jason laughed. Alex wore the number eleven.
“Seriously, Alex,” Tim said.
“It’s just my lucky number,” Alex said, picking up the towel hanging on the handlebar and wiping the sweat from his face.
“I don’t have a lucky number,” Tim said.
Swearing, Jason glanced down at the odometer on his bike. “You know what? I’ve put in three miles talking about this. You’d better pick something by the time I hit ten.”
“Fuck you, Jase,” Tim said. “It’s not like we’re deciding what to eat for lunch. It’s my number, damn it.”
Tim didn’t want any bad mojo following him. Past couple of seasons, he’d spent too much time on the third and fourth lines and had been a healthy scratch more than once. Sitting out games without being injured was one of the most humiliating things that could happen to a hockey player. When the coach scratched you, he was basically saying, “You’ve been playing like shit. Show me during practice how much you want to win and we’ll see if you play in the next game.”
Then the trade had come through. Initially, he’d been devastated. After twelve years, the Blackhawks didn’t want him anymore, and for the first time he’d seriously considered quitting the game he loved, even though he’d always planned to play as long as he was physically able.
But after a period of disbelief, anger and hurt, he realized this could be a fresh start. A second chance. He’d be playing with Jason and Alex, just like the good old days. They’d always been magic together on the ice, and his two friends seemed pumped for the opportunity.
And yet he still secretly wondered if maybe it
was
time he hung up his skates. He had plenty of money. He had his health. He could find himself a woman and settle down somewhere. Or maybe travel the world. He wanted to see Europe, maybe Japan. Playing with the NHL, he did more than his share of traveling, but all of it in North America.
“Where
are
we going for lunch?” Alex said, breaking the silence. He addressed Tim, who was now doing some triceps work. “San Diego is a hotbed of craft microbreweries. We could go to Zethus. Great pale ale, great food. Huge burgers and fresh-cut fries. Their ribs are good too.”
“Sounds a little heavy,” Tim said. “I don’t want to show up to training camp flabby.”
“Training camp is two months away,” Alex said. “Plenty of time to work off any flab from a burger-and-beer lunch today.”
Jason took a swig from his water bottle and said to Tim, “There’s a good sushi place down the street.”
“Sushi’s good,” Tim said.
Alex grumbled. “Killjoys. One beer’s not gonna kill you.”
“Like you’d stop at one,” Jason countered. “Besides, Zethus is forty-five minutes from here.”
“Then how about KFC then? I could go from some extra crispy. I’ll even go get it and meet you on the sand.”
For a man whose livelihood depended on his physical fitness, Alex drank too much and binged on junk food. Conventional wisdom was “ninety-ten”—eat right ninety percent of the time so you could goof off the other ten. But Alex held to more of a fifty-fifty ratio. His rationale was if his game didn’t suffer, he should be able to eat whatever the hell he wanted.
“Look, if you’re going to pollute your body with that shit, you fucking can do it without me,” Jason said.
What’s wrong with him?
Tim mouthed at Alex. Alex shrugged.
Noticing the exchange, Jason narrowed his eyes. “What are we, in junior high? If you have something to say to me or about me, just fucking say it.”
Tim frowned. “I was just asking Alex if you were on your period, because you’re sure acting like it.”
Jason looked like he was going to fly off the handle, when he suddenly blew out a breath instead. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Alex said. “When it’s that time of the month, it’s that time of the month.”
Jason nodded, acknowledging the joke. “It’s just...look, we’re all three of us pushing the limit. You hit thirty in our league, you’re on borrowed time. Everyone knows that,” Jason went on, “including the kids that just got called up. Sure, some of them will look up to us, but in the back of their minds, they’ll think they’re stronger and faster.”
“They are,” Tim said wryly.
“Which is one of the reasons I asked you to come over today. We have two months until training camp, and I want to show up in beyond peak condition. They’re expecting to see the three of us skating like old ladies. I think I know how to prove them wrong.”
Alex worked the elliptical but not particularly strenuously. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone’s expecting,” he muttered.
“Alex, you don’t give a fuck about anything,” Jason said.
“Life’s a lot easier that way. Look, as long as I pass the physicals, that’s all I care about. It doesn’t matter what shape I’m in if I play great hockey this season. And that’s what I aim to do.” He paused. “But just out of curiosity, what’s your plan?”
Tim suppressed his chuckle.
“I’ve been working out at this place called Power Play,” Jason said. “It’s one of those sport-specific training centers. I think it’s been doing me a lot of good, but I won’t be able to tell until camp. I think you should come with me so we can work off each other. I think it just might give us an edge on the kids.”
Or at least level the playing field
, Tim thought. “It couldn’t hurt,” he said.
Alex grumbled. “I’m in great shape.”
“When you’re not hungover,” Jason said.
“Well, I’m game,” Tim said. He flicked a towel at Alex’s arm. “Come on. If you don’t do it, when Jason and I blow everyone’s minds at camp, I will personally see to it you regret sitting around on your hamburger, French fry, pale ale ass all summer.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” Alex said with a scowl.
Jason nodded. “Great. We have time scheduled tomorrow at eleven. I’ll email you directions.”
“You were that sure we’d say yes?” Tim asked.
Jason shrugged. “Pretty much.”
They said nothing for a while, each lost in his own thoughts until Jason announced, “Mile eight.”
Tim opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off again, when Alex held up a hand. “Wait a second. Wait a second. I’ve got it. What is your all-time greatest achievement so far? Outside of winning the Stanley Cup.”
Tim held up two fingers. “Twice.”
Alex rolled his yes. “Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Anyway, it’s winning the Rocket Award, right? So your new number could be the number of goals you scored. Or the year.”
Tim smiled. Every year the NHL gave the Maurice “Rocket” Richard trophy to the highest goal scorer in the regular season, and in 2003, Tim scored fifty-seven goals in eighty-two games. Earning that award certainly had great personal significance, but the number fifty-seven didn’t feel right. Three was okay to commemorate the year, but just as he was about to say so, he realized what his number
had
to be. He felt stupid for not having thought of it right off the bat.
“Twenty-five. I need the number twenty-five.” Putting down the weights, he slid his gaze toward Jason. “Anyone have that number? That was Mollie’s birthday.”
Jason gave a slow shake of the head. “No. No one has that number.”
Tim breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. He’d already thought he could try for the number six to represent the number of letters in Mollie’s name as a backup, but luckily it hadn’t come to that.
“That’s a great number, bro. Really great,” Alex said with a solemn expression on his face. “I just have one question.” He let the elliptical coast to a stop. “Can we go to KFC now?”