Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3) (24 page)

BOOK: Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3)
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“Yes, silly. You’re two peas in a pod. You could have been twins. Maybe that’s why I feel such a connection to you. Do you really think you and my Jody are that different? Both of you have huge personalities. You’re both overly protective by nature, and quite honestly, you both have that caveman mentality when it comes to your women.”

I couldn’t argue with her, could I? Not when she spoke the truth. “I guess, but it still rubs me the wrong way to think that Jody and I are that much alike.”

“Well, you two can deal with that on your own. I’m not getting involved there. And on that note, I’m going to run. I have some laundry waiting for me. I’ll tell Karen to give you a ring when she wakes up.”

“Thank you. If she gets up later than ten, can you tell her I’ll call her in the morning? I want to get to bed early so I’m well rested tomorrow.” I always went to bed early on the night before a game. If I stayed up too late, I’d wake up too late the next day and I wouldn’t be tired enough to take a nap before the game. I always took an hour nap before the game. Every game. I didn’t ever stray from my before, during, or after game routines.

“Will do. And if I don’t see you before puck drop, good luck to you, Dalton. And as I used to say to Jody, play with fire in your heart and ice in your veins.”

Her words warmed me. “I like that a lot. Thanks, Maddie.” We ended our call and I immediately placed another call to my own mother. She was as excited as I was that I was playing tomorrow, although she worried that I wasn’t well enough. By the time I got off the phone with her, I’d convinced her that the doctor wouldn’t clear me to play unless I was able. She took that at face value and let me go with a ‘love you’ and ‘talk to you soon’.

Chapter 21
 
 

 

Karen

 

I was thrilled to get out of the house for a while—and not only was I getting out, but I was going to see Cage play in a huge playoff game. Nerves were setting in as we waited for Jody and Lacey to pick us up.

They had Addie with them, and of course I loved my niece to distraction, but I couldn’t stop the immediate sorrow that filled my heart upon seeing her. I’d never be able to make my own baby. I thought I was dealing with my grief pretty well, but damn, sometimes it just got me, and when it did, it was hard to let it go again.

But tonight I had a game to go to. So I put on a happy face on the outside and would just have to wait patiently until the inside caught up.

***

The arena didn’t open to the public until two hours before puck drop, but Jody drove right into the players parking area and we went in through the employee tunnels. It was slow going for me, but we wound up in the Zamboni shoot, which led us right out to the ice.

An empty arena is a strangely peaceful place. The four of us stood there silently, each hearing and seeing what we would. In the back of my mind, I could hear the sweet swish, swish of razor sharp blades as they raced up and down the ice. I could see Cage skating around his net as he got ready to get in position. At the red face-off circle, I could see hockey players lined up across from each other, pushing each other to the limit of the ref’s patience. I closed my eyes for a minute and let it all wash over me.

“This is it, isn’t it? You all feel it too, right?” Jody had been in that exact position time after time. He knew the sounds and feelings of hockey better than any of us. He’d lived it for years.

“Yeah, honey. I think we all feel it.” Lacey slipped her arm around his waist and squeezed him. “You still miss it, don’t you?”

“I always will. I love my job now, I do. The kids are great and I’m still with the organization, but yeah, I miss it.”

Hockey didn’t just get in your blood; it got in your soul. It wasn’t like any other sport. Other sports were fun and entertaining to watch, but they weren’t hockey. Hockey was sixty minutes of balls-to-the-wall speed and endurance. There was no standing around waiting for your next at-bat. There was no waiting on the sidelines for your team to get the ball back. On average, hockey players only got a two to two-and-a-half-minute break in between forty-five to sixty second sprints. They didn’t have a chance to catch their breath until the period was over. Hell of an exciting sport.

“Hey guys. Glad you came. Are you feeling all right, Karen?” Cage came walking up to us looking utterly adorable and smoking hot at the same time, dressed in a pair of long gym shorts, a Scorpions t-shirt and his baseball cap on backward. He had a soccer ball under his arm which told me we needed to leave soon and give the guys more room to hit the ball around. They warmed up the same way before each game.

“I’m fine. Stop asking me all the time.” I gave him a smile to take the sting out of my words, but I was seriously tired of everyone asking me how I was. I knew they meant well, but it was tiring. “I can see you guys are about ready to start warming up. We’ll go on up to the suite.”

Jody tapped Cage on the head as he always had when they played together. Each player had their own way of wishing their goalie luck, and they never strayed from it. Jody always gave a goalie a sharp rap on the helmet, so he stuck with that now. “Keep it tight, man. You can’t give Chicago any room around the net.”

“Will do. Thanks. Hey, Karen, can I talk to you for a second before you go up?”

Color me intrigued. I couldn’t imagine what he could want to talk about right then. He had a game to think about. “Sure.” I pushed the others toward the doorway. “I’ll be there in a sec.” When they were out of sight, Cage pulled me over so that we were just about standing under the first level seating. Our position afforded us a somewhat private spot.

“Can you do me a favor? Now hear me out before you think I’m just being, well …me.”

“Okay.” I was even more intrigued.

“You know how we all have these rituals we do before games and stuff, right?”

“Yeah. You’re all a bunch of superstitious—” Apparently he didn’t want me to finish that sentence. His hand came up fast to cover my mouth.

“Shh. We don’t use that word. We’re not …you know. It’s just some rituals, okay?”

I tried to keep the laughter out of my voice as I indulged him. “Got it. Just some rituals. So what do you need?”

With his eyes cast downward, he suddenly looked shy. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he was actually afraid to ask me what he wanted to. Oh wait, I
did
know him better. I stretched my neck out and down a little to get a good look at his eyes. I knew it. He wasn’t being shy; he had that devil’s smirk on his face. His cocky,
I’ve got the world by the balls
, smirk. I loved it. “Well?”

“Give me your hand and just trust me.”

“Why does it scare me when you say, ‘Give me your hand.’?”

His sexy smirk appeared again as he simply took my hand in his. “I just need you to touch my tattoo. You need to rub it three times. I do it too, right before I leave the locker room. I just thought if you did it, it might bring me some extra luck.”

“Wait.” I pulled my hand back. “If I touch it and it’s not something you normally do, isn’t that upsetting the mojo?”

Cage shook his head and rolled his neck back until he was looking at the ceiling before returning his gaze to me. “Don’t you know anything about hockey players? You can add stuff to your rituals; you just can’t
not
do something. Unless it’s something someone says to you or a specific gesture they make—then you can’t change it. Understand?”

“No. That makes absolutely no sense. Why can you change one thing but not another?”

The guys in the hall were getting restless and called for him again. “Dammit woman, just touch me.” He grabbed my hand again and pushed it down his pants. In his exuberance, he pushed a bit too far, and my hand slipped down to his, uh his, well, you know. I froze and snapped my head up. We locked eyes and still I stood there with his cock in my hand for what seemed like an eternity. I can’t tell you exactly how long that was, but I can tell you it was long enough for it to start coming to attention.

My voice was barely a squeak as I squeezed him softly. I don’t know what got into me. “Rub three times?” Holy cow. Was that
my
husky voice?

“Christ.” He pulled my hand up a ways and rubbed his lucky clover tattoo with it. Three times.

The guys were calling for him out in the hall once again, but he was in no condition to go walking out there with those flimsy shorts on, his cock standing tall. “So did it work; do you think?”

He pursed his lips and spoke to me through clenched teeth. “Oh, it worked all right. If we don’t win this game, it won’t be my fault. Now get on up to the suite.”

“Aren’t you going to thank me for rubbing it?” I could see his shorts jump at my question.

“Karen?”

“Um hmm?”

“You might want to be careful about how much you tease me. When you’re completely healed, we’re going to finish this.” He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. Before he let me go, he smoothly pulled my back to his front and whispered in my ear. “And I’m going to take my time with you. I’m not going to leave a spot on your body untouched. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be sobbing my name. So you think about that, okay?” Nipping me on the neck, he cupped my bottom and swatted me lightly before letting me go. I had nothing left to say.

 

***

It didn’t take me long to forget about our encounter and become totally engrossed in the game, and Cage’s play specifically. “He looks great tonight! I can’t believe how well he’s playing. You’d never know he was injured.”

Even Jody had glowing compliments for him. “He really does. What did you say to him before the game?”

I could feel the blood rush to my face. When Jody’s brows turned down into a frown, I knew he’d noticed. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know—ever.” I thought he was done, but then he said, “Keep doing it, though. It obviously works.”

I laughed out loud. If he only knew.

At the end of the first period, the game was tied at zero. Such tight games made for a stressful night for both teams. Not to mention the fans watching with baited breath. There wasn’t a game in hockey more exciting than the seventh game of a seven game series—unless it was the one to take it all. The last game in the Stanley Cup finals.

I hoped Cage was feeling good about his play, because he was in his zone. Nothing could get past him. Not even over his left shoulder, which we all knew was his weak spot. He was textbook perfect with his own Cage Booker style thrown in the mix.

Even though I wasn’t sure my nerves could take much food, I was cautiously eyeing the buffet table when Kelly, our captain’s fiancée came over to us. “Hi guys.” She kissed Jody and Lacey in greeting. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Hey, Kelly. You’ve met my sister Karen, right?”

She showed us her million-watt smile. “Of course! Several times. I was so sorry to hear about your accident.” She was silent for a minute as if searching for what to say. “I’m sure it’s not something you like to talk about, but, if you ever want a shoulder to lean on, or someone to scream with at the injustice or break plates with, I’m your girl. We wouldn’t even have to talk about it if you didn’t want. We could simply share a bottle of wine or anything you need.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I really do understand how loss feels. Maybe not in exactly the same way, but please, please, call me day or night. And I mean that, truly.”

I didn’t know what to say. Everyone was sympathetic to my plight. I didn’t know her story, but I could see the haunted look in her eyes when she said she understood loss. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, but it was there for a moment, and I’d glimpsed it. That was how I felt most of the time. I’d accepted my loss, but that didn’t mean it never haunted me. I squeezed her hand back. “You know, I’m okay. Most of the time anyway, but I just may take you up on that someday.” I thought she would just smile or say, ‘okay’, but she asked me to program her number in my phone. I don’t know how I forgot what hockey clubs were like. They were family.

“And now, I want some food. I’m starving!” Kelly broke the tension with her desire to check out the buffet. “Anyone want to join me? They have Philly cheesesteaks tonight. Of course, since I’ve been to Philly, I know they’re not even close, but they’re still fattening and cheesy, and I want one.”

We all joined her. She sat with us while we ate and waited for the second period to begin. Our plates were comical. They fitted us each well. Lacey was eating as healthy as she could since she was still nursing, and Addie got cranky when her momma ate too much fatty food. Jody’s plate was filled to bursting. There were not one, but two giant cheesesteaks on it loaded with ketchup and onions, fried chicken fingers, fresh baked kettle chips, and jalapeño poppers oozing with cream cheese.

Kelly was an ice girl. She was a curvy ice girl, but still had to watch her figure even when she was starving. Her plate had a cheesesteak without the roll and some pickles. Me? I decided I wasn’t real hungry, which believe me, is rare. I wanted Cage to win this game so much I didn’t think I could stomach eating. My appetite was sitting in the background. My nerves were a mess. And that’s not even mentioning the whole hand-on-his-junk thing. I stuck with a piece of dry ham and cheese sub, and a Coke Zero.

The second period was almost a carbon copy of the first. Cage had now denied twenty-eight potential goals. The Hawks were peppering him with shots every chance they got. They knew it was his first game back and were desperately trying to tire him out and cause him to get sloppy, but he was having none of it. The more shots they fired at him, the more focused he seemed to become.

The Scorpions, on the other hand, were not peppering the Hawk’s goalie with shots. They only had fourteen shots on the board. It wasn’t enough. Chicago had double that amount. It was unacceptable. They were hanging their goalie out to dry. Cage couldn’t win the game if they didn’t score.

My calm was shattered as the third period started. We needed to score. Just one goal would make all the difference, but it wasn’t looking good.

Dubuis picked up a perfectly timed long pass coming out of the penalty box, and it was just him and Cage. One on one. Mano y mano. He skated left, then right. He went around Cage’s net, which was his crucial mistake. We got lucky. He took too long to get his shot off, and Matty was there to strip the puck away from him in the nick of time. Mere seconds after we got control of the puck, the buzzer sounded, marking the end of regulation time. We were going into overtime in the seventh game of the series. Pretty fucking intense.

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