On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8)
Read On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) Online
Authors: Lisa B. Kamps
Copyright © 2016 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
The Baltimore Banners™ is a fictional professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.
Artwork by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art
Table of Contents
Thank you for the endless insight, words of wisdom, advice, and selfless sharing of your knowledge. This wild ride and wonderful journey has been so much smoother because of all you've done!
THE BALTIMORE BANNERS
Crossing the Line
, Book 1
Game Over
, Book 2
Blue Ribbon Summer
, Book 3
Body Check
, Book 4
Break Away
, Book 5
Playmaker,
A Baltimore Banners Intermission Nove
lla
Seduced By The Game
Cancer Charity Collection
Delay of Game
, Book 6
Shoot Out
, Book 7
The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy
Books 1-3 Boxed set
On Thin Ice
, Book 8
FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN
Once Burned
, Book 1
Playing With Fire
, Book 2
Breaking Protocol
, Book 3
Into the Flames
, Book 4
STAND-ALONE TITLES
Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories
(anthology)
Dangerous Heat
Coming Soon
She broke his dick and he'd never have kids. He was sure of it. Not that he was thinking of kids, not right now. Why would he, when he could barely breathe?
His mouth opened and closed like a damn fish suffocating on air only nothing was happening. No air, no words. Nothing. Yeah, his dick was broken, he was sure of it.
And Kenny Haskell had nobody to blame but himself.
This was definitely his fault. If he hadn't stayed late after practice to get in more ice time, if he hadn't lost track of time in the weight room—if he hadn't been staring at the woman's ass, admiring the view in those padded pants, this wouldn't be happening right now.
Yeah, he had nobody else to blame but himself. But Christ it hurt.
He bent over, his hands fisted in front of him, a string of profanity shooting through his mind. But he couldn't say any of the words out loud—even if he could manage to find enough breath to talk, which wasn't happening in the next few minutes. Letting loose with a few choice words wasn't going to be an option, not here, not with two dozen kids running around getting ready for a game.
His lungs unseized enough that he could finally draw breath. Just a raspy wheeze, but it was enough for now. He sucked in another short gasp and slowly straightened, his gaze finally resting on the woman who had come too damn close to unmanning him.
She was on the taller side, the top of her head coming almost to his nose. Her dark hair was slicked back off her forehead and tucked behind her ears. Brown? Maybe black? Kenny couldn't tell because it was still damp. Or maybe covered in some kind of gel goop or something. But it was her eyes and mouth that really caught his attention. Deep brown eyes, widened in surprise—or maybe horror at what she'd just done. And her mouth, full and lush, opened in a small circle, her lips a rosy shade of pink. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. Are you okay?"
She stepped forward and damn if the fucking gear bag she'd already hit him with didn't fall from her shoulder and swing forward again, heading straight for his groin. Again.
He reached for it as he turned to the side, avoiding another direct hit. The thing was heavier than he expected and he almost dropped it to the ground, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the woman.
"Christ, lady. Are you trying to make sure I don't ever have kids?"
And of course the words came out in a snarl. Low, almost a growl. He hadn't meant for them to come out like that but hell, his dick was still throbbing—and not in a good way.
The woman's eyes narrowed, a flash of fire sparking in their dark depths. Her mouth snapped shut and her lips thinned into a straight line as she grabbed the bag and jerked it back.
"I said I was sorry. If you'd been watching where you were going—"
"Me? How the hell is this my fault?" He tightened his hand around the strap of her bag, refusing to let go of it, like relinquishing control would somehow be the same as admitting he was at fault—even though he kind of was. The comparison didn't make sense, not in the least. And it wasn't exactly mature, either. Too damn bad, because he suddenly wasn't feeling very reasonable or mature at the moment.
Her eyes narrowed even more, becoming nothing more than dark slits in her now-flushed face. She tugged on the bag again but Kenny didn't budge. "If you had been watching where you were going, I wouldn't have caught you with it."
"Lady, I was watching where I was going. You're the one who came to dead-stop then turned around, swinging." It was foolish, completely and utterly foolish, but he tugged on the bag again. "What the hell do you have in here, anyway?"
A muscle ticked in her jaw and Kenny could swear she was grinding her back teeth. If he wasn't still in pain, he'd probably be smiling at her reaction. No, he'd probably be questioning his own sanity because he was actually having fun goading her—which made absolutely no sense.
She tugged on the bag one more time, which only made him pull on it harder. Then, before he could anticipate the move, she smiled and suddenly let go of it. Kenny staggered back, the weight of the bag slamming against his thigh and nearly causing him to fall. He stumbled, caught his balance, then swore when the bag swung against his leg and slammed into his knee.
"Son of a—"
"Watch your language. This isn't a bunch of pros, it's a group of kids."
Kenny snapped his mouth shut. He knew better but he wasn't about to tell her that. Just like he wasn't about to admit that he generally didn't lose control like this. He clenched his jaw and dropped the bag to the floor with a thud.
"Take the stupid bag."
She raised her brows, her lips parting in what might be a smile. "I thought you wanted to know what was in it?"
"No. I just don't want you taking anyone else out with it. Like you said, we're around a bunch of kids. I don't think they'd survive being mauled as well I did."
She snorted, the sound somehow delicate and disbelieving all at the same time. "Mauled? Yeah, okay. And if calling your theatrics 'surviving' makes you feel better, then go for it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She bent down to retrieve the bag, tossing it over her shoulder with one smooth move. Then she looked at him again, those dark eyes sparkling with amusement as her gaze traveled down his body then back up.
"Just what I said. How do you survive getting hit out on the ice if a little tap is enough to do you in?"
"Excuse me for not thinking I'd need a damn cup just to walk through the rink. And if that was a little tap, I'd hate—"
"Kenny! Stop arguing with the ref and come on. We need to get going."
Kenny bit off the rest of his reply and looked to his right. Justin Tome was standing by the double glass doors of the practice rink, an expression of impatience on his face as he pointed to his watch. Justin had stayed after practice as well, working on strengthening his arm after a nasty break shattered it during one of last season's playoff games. Kenny waved, letting him know he heard, then turned back to the woman. But she was already moving away from him, the bag slung carelessly over her shoulder.
"Hey!" Kenny called after her, not really knowing why. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Are you here every weekend?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Good. I'll know not to stay late on weekends then."
The woman grinned, her chin tilting up just a notch. "Bite me." Then she turned and sauntered away, leaving him standing there, speechless.
"Kenny! Come on, let's go."
"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Kenny looked back, trying to catch a final glimpse of the woman. She was on the other side of the rink, sitting on one of the benches and lacing up her skates. He waited, wondering if she'd look up at him, wondering why he wanted her to. Ridiculous. He was being absolutely ridiculous. He shook his head then turned away, following Justin out the door to the parking lot.
"So what was all that about?"
"What?"
Justin lowered himself into the car and nodded his head in the direction of the practice rink. "That whole tug-of-war thing back there with the ref."
Kenny shrugged, feeling his face heat. "It wasn't a tug-of-war. I was just stopping her from taking me out again. I mean, did you see what she did?"
"Taking you out? No, I didn't see that. What I saw was you grabbing her bag and trying to stare her down."
"I was not staring her down."
"Really? Sure looked like it to me. You had that look on your face."
"What look is that?"
"The one you get on the ice when you're about to take down the other team's forward." Justin scrunched his face into a comical scowl that made Kenny choke back a grunt of laughter.
"I do not like look that."
"Yeah you do."
"I do not. Hell, that look wouldn't scare off my three-year-old niece." Justin looked like he was ready to argue so Kenny cut him off. "How's the arm doing?"
Justin's shoulders slumped. He rubbed his right hand along his arm as he opened and closed his left hand, making a fist then releasing it several times. "I don't know. Getting there, I guess. I was hoping to be on the ice for our first game next week but it doesn't look like that's going to happen."
"That sucks." The words were lame but Kenny didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to tell Justin he wasn't surprised, didn't want to tell the man he had figured as much. He knew Justin was pushing himself, trying to get himself ready faster than he probably should. Kenny would probably be doing the same thing if their situations were reversed.
Probably? No, he was. He was still the new guy on the team, having been called up early in the last season. He still had a lot to prove—to himself and the coaching staff. Isn't that why he was staying late after practices? Pushing himself, proving to the GM and the coaches and everyone else that they hadn't made a mistake in keeping him here instead of sending him back down.
"So who was she?"
"Who?"
"The girl. The ref. Who was she?"
Kenny pulled into the parking lot of The Maypole and cut the engine, shooting Justin an impatient look of exasperation right before he got out of the car. "I have no idea who she is. I've never seen her before."
"She must be one of the youth hockey refs."
"Ya think?" Kenny rolled his eyes and pulled on the door to the restaurant, holding it open for Justin then following him inside. The weekend lunch rush hadn't quite started yet so the place wasn't too crowded. Not that it would matter, since the team always had a table or two reserved for them. One of the perks of Randy Michaels, another defenseman for the Baltimore Banners, being the investor of the restaurant. Of course, he was also living with the restaurant's chef, who happened to be one of the owners. Kenny still didn't know the whole story on how that had happened.
And now Justin was married to one of the other owners—who also happened to be Randy's sister, Val, which explained the dark look Randy threw their way when they joined everyone else at the table. Kenny didn't think the dark look was only because Justin recently married Val. They eloped—right after he got her pregnant. Kenny's own sister was older, not younger, but he had a feeling he might feel the same way if he was in Randy's shoes.
Except he could see how happy Val was, saw it in the way her eyes lit up and her smile bloomed when she walked over to their table and claimed a kiss from Justin. And yeah, okay, maybe the kiss was a bit more than just a quick peck because a low growl came from Kenny's left. He looked over and saw Randy staring at the couple, his brows lowered in a frown as his hand fisted around a small knife.
"You're growling."
Randy faced him, the scowl still on his face. "And your point is?"
"Just ignore him. I do." Val laughed, the sound light and teasing. Randy turned back to her, his face turning a little redder as the two of them got caught up in a staring contest. He glanced at Justin and noticed the other man shifting in his chair, staring down at the placemat as a small flush colored his cheeks. Embarrassment? Or something else? Kenny couldn't tell. All he knew was that everyone around them suddenly quieted under the growing tension falling over the table.
"You eloped!"
"Yeah, so?"
The scowl on Randy's face deepened. "You didn't even have enough decency to tell—"
"Enough!" The single word came from Justin, quietly spoken but with enough force and determination that Randy sat back, the scowl changing to surprise. Justin leaned forward, a steady look in his eyes as he stared at Randy. "You do not talk to my wife that way. Is that clear?"
The tension grew even heavier as everyone watched Randy. Kenny realized he was holding his own breath, waiting for the other man to explode. But the explosion never came. Instead, Randy rolled his shoulders, an expression of something close to admiration crossing his face. He grunted then finally shrugged.
"Fine. Whatever."
Kenny wasn't sure what that had been about but he sensed the sudden easing of tension between the two men. The rest of the table still seemed stunned, though, and too quiet. Kenny searched his mind for a way to get the conversation going again. His gaze landed on JP Larocque and he leaned across the table, catching the man's attention.
"JP, do you know any of the youth hockey refs?" He heard Justin's choked laughter and thought about kicking the man under the table. With the way his day had been going so far, he figured he'd end up either breaking his own foot or sending the table flying instead, so he just ignored him.
JP reached for his glass of tea and took a long swallow, shaking his head. "Maybe a few but only by sight. Why?"
"Just curious."
"He was trying to stare one down earlier."
Kenny scowled at Justin, silently telling him to shut up. But the man wasn't even looking at him, he was focused on JP down at the other end of the table. And, of course, JP was watching Kenny.
"Why were you staring him down?"
"Not him. Her."
Kenny kicked out with his foot, aiming for Justin's leg and only finding air. "I wasn't staring her down."
"Her? What did she look like?"