Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3) (8 page)

BOOK: Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3)
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Chapter 7
 

 

 

Cage

 

I hadn’t seen Karen in over a week, and I found myself thinking about her almost constantly. It was her fault, too. She was very flirty over the phone via texting (okay, maybe that was more me). Since I’d been deprived of seeing her beautiful face or hearing her sweet voice, I found myself looking back at some of our texting.

Me: Hey

Karen: Hey

Me: What’s up?

Karen: Nothing.

Me: Are you deliberately being short with me?

Karen: No

Me: Karen…

Karen: Getting your panties in a twist again, Dalton?

Me: Didn’t we already have this discussion? I don’t wear ‘panties’.

Karen: Oh yeah. Guess I don’t think too much about what you do or don’t have under your jeans.

Me: And what a shame that is.

Karen: Dalton…

Me: What? It is a shame. You should think about it. A lot.

Karen: I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Dalton.

Me: Eureka! I knew it. You have to go take care of business now, don’t you? I’m too sexy for my phone, too sexy for my texting, too sexy for my ‘panties’.

No reply.

Me: Karen? You there?

Me: Am I in trouble now? :(

Me: Goodnight

Then there was this one. This texting session I’d reread a lot.

Karen: Good game tonight. Team looks good.

Me: Agreed. Did you see how awesome the goal tending was?

Karen: You
have
got to learn some humility, Mr. Number One.

Me: No I don’t. I kinda rock.

Karen: Thanks a lot. You just made soda come out my nose.

Me: That’s hot.

Karen: LOL. Did you sign a lot of autographs after the game?

Me: Tons. Playoffs get like that. I don’t mind though. The kids are great.

Karen: You realize you’re not half the badass you think you are, right?

Me: I absolutely do not realize that. I am 100% badass. How about if I come over there and show you just how badass I am?

Karen: I don’t think so. I’m soaking in the tub right now.

Me: Gah. Change of plans. How about if I come wash your back for you? All that wet skin…

Karen: Dalton…

Me: Karen…

Me: So, what are you wearing?

Karen: What do you think I’m wearing? I’m in the tub!

Me: So …nothing, right? Am I right?

Karen: You’re crazy, you know that? But you do make me laugh.

Me: I could make your toes curl too, if you’d let me.

Karen: Just for arguments sake …how exactly would you do that?

Me: Really? You want to play this game? I’m all in, darlin’.

Karen: Go for it.

Me: Let’s see. I’d start on your neck. I’d gather that lovely hair of yours in my hands and hold it aside while I explored every inch of your creamy, smooth skin. My lips would lightly brush against you right beneath your ear, trailing a path to your collarbone and back up again.

Karen: Never mind. This is a bad idea.

Me: Oh, no. You started it. Now where was I?

I didn’t expect to hear anything back again. As a matter of fact, I figured she’d call it a night like the last time. The ding from my phone sent a rush of blood to parts south. She wanted to play.

Karen: My neck.

Me: While my lips are busy, I’d let my hands slide down through the water, over your breasts, lavishing attention on them too. Still with me?

Karen: Yeah. No. I was right the first time. This was a bad idea. Goodnight, Dalton.

I thought it might be in my best interest to let her off easy. At least I knew she was thinking about me. It was a step in the right direction.

Me: Sweet dreams, darlin’.

So yeah, I’d been thinking about her a lot. It was actually kind of annoying. Luckily it hadn’t affected my game. I hadn’t had any more back-to-back shut outs, but I was still holding my own.

Since I’d become friendly with Karen, I realized that I liked and possibly needed to be spending time with other people, so when Keith asked me, as he always did, to go to The Pub with them I said yes. Don’t get me wrong, Charlie was fine company, and I was glad that Karen brought her back to me, but a chinchilla wasn’t a very good conversationalist. I was actually thinking of asking Karen to take over babysitting Charlie when I was out of town while she was here. I don’t think the coach’s wife was in love with watching her.

“Hey, Booker. We’re heading over to The Pub. You want to come?”

“Sure. Why not?” Keith’s look was comical. He had already been halfway out the door of the locker room, assuming I’d say no as usual.

“Yeah? Cool. You want to ride with me or drive over yourself? If you want to ride with me, I can drop you off here later to grab your car.”

“Nah. Thanks though. I’ll meet you there.” I was looking forward to hanging out with the guys, believe it or not, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be dependent on anyone to get home. Baby steps, you know?

For the first time, I thought about blowing off the fans who waited out at our parking lot for us in order to get over to The Pub. As I slipped into my car, out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a little girl in a wheelchair holding my jersey and looking as if she were going to cry watching me leave. No way in hell could I do it. So I backed out of my parking spot and drove closer to the fence.

“You know, I was going to leave, but then I saw this beautiful girl and I couldn’t do it. I’m a sucker for the pretty ones.” I winked at her as I reached out for her jersey. Her lopsided smile lit up the night. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but she had very little muscle control, and there was a bit of spittle at the corner of her mouth. I gently wiped it away with my thumb before taking her jersey to sign it.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

She grinned again and said her name, which I couldn’t quite understand. Her face contorted into a frustrated frown and she tried again. I had nothing.

“Wait. Let me guess. Can you give me the first letter?”

She closed her eyes, like she was thinking really hard. “Uhhhh….” She put one finger up and I waited. “P.”

“Ah, P. Must be for Precious?”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Perfection?”

“N..nn…no.”

“Hmm. Pretty?”

She made an effort to swat my hand and giggled.

“Okay. Let me see.” I glanced at her mother who was smiling at me in approval. She mouthed “Patty.”

“There are only a couple of names that begin with P that I can think of that are good enough for you.” I scratched my head, deep in thought. “I hope I have the right one, because it’s one of my very favorite names. Ready?”

She bounced a bit in her chair, leaning perilously to the side in her effort. I reached out a hand to steady her and said, “Patty?”

Her squeal was overly loud, and drew looks from the other people waiting impatiently. Most smiled at the girl, but a few looked disgusted as again, a bit of drool escaped out of the side of her mouth. I grabbed the tissue out of her mother’s hand this time and dabbed it away.

I signed her jersey “To Patty. The prettiest girl at the rink.” I wasn’t sure if she could read it or not, but before they left, she ran her fingers over it as if it was her most prized possession. I kissed her cheek as her mother thanked me for stopping.

Those were the moments that touched me most. Yes, I was a Class A jerk sometimes, and yes I’d slept with more women than I should have. And no, I did not respect people as I ought to, but I never lied about it. Girls knew what they were getting into before I got into it with them, and I didn’t kiss ass or sugar coat things. But give me an innocent child, and I was reduced to a puddle of goo. For some reason, Karen seemed to be the only one who saw that side of me, but as I’d said before, people saw what they wanted to see.

***

There were plenty of parking spots left to pick from in The Pub’s parking lot when I arrived. It was almost ten-thirty on a Wednesday night, but Wednesday’s not a big partying night, you know? We had a rare day off tomorrow so I didn’t have to worry about being out late.

It was obvious that the gods decided to reward me for my decision to hang with the guys. One of the first people I saw when I walked in the door was Karen. She was standing at the bar with big brother and Lacey. Almost as if we were connected, she looked right at me within seconds and gave me a charming smile. I hadn’t had any contact with her yesterday and I had no idea she’d be there.

I saw her elbow Jody and heard her mumble “be nice” as I got up close to them. “Hi guys.” And you know what I did? I held my hand out to that son of a—to Jody, and fucking smiled. Victory! “Nice to see you all.”

Jody reluctantly shook my hand and allowed me to give Lacey a quick smooch. She didn’t hate me like Jody did. I had kind of saved her from her ex one time in the parking lot of the rink. Jody was in the building when her ex hit her in the parking lot as I was walking into the rink, and quite honestly, I saw red. There was one rule that all men should live by with zero exceptions. You did not hit women. Period. So, I knocked the bastard out.

Instead of being grateful that I was in the right place at the right time, it was one more thing Jody held against me. In his defense though, I think he was more pissed that he couldn’t protect his woman at that very second than he was at it being me who helped her out.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you didn’t hang out after the games. Great game, by the way. Again.” Karen gave me a quick hug and moved back next to Jody.

“Well, Keith asked if I wanted to come, and I figured I had nothing better to do, so…” I didn’t want to sound too pathetic, so I just let that hang out there. On the same hand, I wanted to tell her that she made me want to try making friends. She did that for me.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What do you want to drink? My treat.”

Oh, hell no. She wasn’t buying me stuff. She wasn’t even working at the moment. Yeah, yeah …another Jodyism. “Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’ll get my own. What do
you
want?”

She laughed, and it was a balm to my soul. “And you say Jody’s a Neanderthal?” She let it go, though. “You can buy me a Jack and Coke.”

“You got it. Anything for you two? Lace? Jody?”

“I’d like another glass of water, please.”

“I’ll get your water, Angel.” Jody followed me to the bar. Of course he couldn’t allow me to get his wife a glass of water. What a control freak.

“Look, Booker. You know I’m not a big fan of yours, but Karen seems to be in your corner, so I’m going to try to give you the benefit of the doubt for her sake, okay?”

I laughed. I mean a real laugh, like a big old belly laugh, because I knew Jody well enough to know that that was his interpretation of an apology for being such an ass to me. But he was Karen’s brother, so I took the high road. “You know what? I think that would be great. And I’ll try to not be such an asshole.”

To my surprise, Jody laughed back at me. And his laugh was real, too. I wasn’t ready to grab hands and sing campfire songs with him or anything, but it was a step in the right direction. Damn, Karen made me want to be a better person. It was a real shame she was only here for a visit.

Chapter 8
 
 

 

 

An entire week and a half had gone by with no sight of Karen again. We’d texted a bit, but that was it. When I did see her again, it wasn’t my best night. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but I slipped back into my role as “Dick of the Year” quicker than you could say, “Rumpelstilskin”. Not my proudest moment. To be perfectly honest, I’d rather skip this part, but you deserve to know all sides of me, I suppose.

So here goes…

We had just come off the ice after losing to the Redwings when Rush—you remember him, right? Our enforcer with the big mouth?—came over to me and slapped me on the back.

“That last goal was pretty soft, wasn’t it, Booker? Your panties pinching one of your short hairs or something?”

What the fuck was it with everyone and their ‘panties’? There was no way in hell I was going to bother answering him. It was best to let him simmer at my silence, so I shrugged him off me and walked past him, heading for the showers. When he followed me, I knew the silent treatment wasn’t going to work right then.

I let out a gusty sigh, which should have told him I wasn’t in the mood for his shit, and turned to face him. “I’m not perfect, asshole. I lose games now and then. What’s your excuse?”

He’d let a newbie kick his ass in a fight. The kid was twenty pounds lighter and two inches shorter. He was more of an instigator than a real enforcer.

“Whatever, Cage. You lost the game for us tonight. Our defense was right on, our offense scored, you just gave up. Where’s your head? It wasn’t in the game. Word is you can’t get laid lately. Is that the problem?”

“Fuck you.” Yeah, okay. Maybe not the most original response, but come on. Was I supposed to tell him that I’d been thinking about Karen? About how she made me want to stop being a man whore, but at the same time made me weak? Fuck that. Honestly, I started thinking it was time to revert back to my “Cage doesn’t give a shit about anything” persona. Longing for Karen simply wasn’t good for me. “I just lost a game. It fucking happens.”

“Fine. Stick to that story, Booker. I’m going to The Pub.”

Just like most nights for Rush. For me, going there the other night to be with the team was a rarity, but tonight? Fuck it. Tonight I wanted nothing more than to remind those assholes (okay—Rush) who they were dealing with. Plenty of chicks to pick up at The Pub. I didn’t need to go there to hang out with the guys. I was Cage Motherfucking Booker. I needed no one and could get any woman I wanted. Let them admire me, and remember who ruled the rink—not to mention the puck bunnies.

 

***

Karen

 

The Pub was crowded, as was to be expected for a Friday night after a game, I would imagine. Lacey, who had become a close friend to me over the weeks, talked me into stepping out.

“Why don’t you have some fun with a hottie while you’re here? I know you’re not a one-night-stand kind of girl, but some of the guys are genuinely nice and would love to take you out.”

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