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Authors: Rachelle Vaughn

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BOOK: Home Ice
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Outside, Ben shot Dom a look of confusion. “I can’t believe you are going to leave a chick, which you just dissed, in your house.”

“Dom shrugged. “Dude, if she wants to take my 63“ plasma TV and tuck it away in her handbag before she goes, then so be it.”

Chapter Three

Number 20

 

Izzy showed up at Ally and Gram’s house on time for once in her life. Izzy always thought she was worth the wait. But today she was especially anxious to meet some hockey players.

Everything about Izzy was tiny. Her feet, her bow-shaped mouth, button nose and dark eyes. Her black hair was almost as long as she was tall. It hung in shiny layers all the way to her tiny waist. She dressed like she made more money than she actually did. Little did everyone know, most of her wardrobe was from sample sales and thrift stores. She was one helluva bargain shopper. Unfortunately, Izzy’s ego was not as tiny as her shoe size.

Today, Izzy looked extra vixen-y in sequined leggings, an off-the-shoulder blouse and platform shoes. No doubt about it, Izzy was a firecracker. No Fourth of July necessary. She drove a cherry red Pontiac Solstice roadster which perfectly complimented her ‘the flashier the better’ motto. The roadster was the ideal size for Izzy’s tiny 5’2” frame, but it always made Ally feel like she was riding in a miniature clown car whenever they went anywhere together. Ally half expected circus music to start playing while she tried to adjust herself next to Izzy on the leather seat.

Izzy let herself into the little yellow house and found Ally slumped on the living room couch watching television. Disappointed, Izzy blew out a puff of air from her red painted lips.

“I can’t stand by and let you do this to yourself,” Izzy scoffed.

“Do what?” Ally looked up from her half-eaten bag of Doritos.

“Living vicariously through me is one thing, but getting all of your social skills from bad…,” Izzy looked back over at the television screen, “…
really
bad TV is just plain wrong. And hazardous to your health.
I
don’t even care who Paris Hilton’s new BFF is! I can‘t believe I‘ve let you get this bad. You have orange fingers!” Izzy was horrified. “Why aren’t you ready?”

Ally licked the nacho cheese from her thumb. “Do we really have to go?” she whined and took a swig of Pepsi to wash it down.

“Yes. I want to meet some players and get autographs.”

“Iz, I really don’t feel like being around a million loud people right now. Hockey games aren’t my thing.”

“Well, then you are in luck my friend. Because this is just a practice. We will have to work our way up to a game. Baby steps. Anywho, stop making excuses and get your lazy butt in gear.”

Ally remained motionless on the couch. “You know the Razors had an autograph signing this morning. I saw them advertising it on TV. Why didn’t you just get your precious autographs then?”

“Because I was
working
. And what fun is it to see the players all cleaned up and out of uniform? We’re going to watch them in their natural habitat all sexy and sweaty.”

“For Pete’s sake, you’re acting like a horny teenager!” Ally griped.

“Please, Ally. Get up, get ready and come with me. We can go for fro-yo afterwards.”

“All right. All right. I’m coming.” Ally turned off the TV and went down the hall to get ready. So much for Izzy forgetting about today and leaving Ally alone to entertain herself. What was so bad about being a hermit?

* * *

Izzy’s lead foot drove them right past the off-ramp for the NorCal Center.

“Wait. You missed the exit,” Ally said and then clamped her mouth shut. What did she care about where they were going anyway?

“No I didn’t.”

“What do you mean? Where are we going?”

To the practice rink on the other side of town. The Razors have their practices there and their games at the NorCal Center.”

“Oh.”

As promised, ten minutes later Izzy pulled into the Razors’ Ice Practice Arena parking lot on the other side of town. Posted on the side of the building, Ally noticed a huge sign telling her that ‘Razors Ice Arena was the official practice facility for the Red Valley Razors‘.

That explained why it looked like they had pulled up to a high school gymnasium.

Ally was glad to finally unfold herself from Izzy’s tiny car. She was feeling claustrophobic after Izzy had razzed her during the entire car ride about Ally’s choice of jeans and tee shirt. Over the years it had become Ally’s uniform. There was no way she was going to dress up, especially for some sporting event that she didn‘t even care about. Only Izzy could pull off wearing heels to a hockey rink. She rarely went without them and today was no exception. Izzy could take her designer clothes and five inch heel and shove---

“We’re here!” Izzy announced, breaking Ally‘s train of thought.

Ally looked around at the nearly empty parking lot. “Apparently we’re the only ones.”

“I’m so excited to see them. Practices are much more intimate than games.”

Great,
Ally thought
. Intimacy and hockey. I’m missing General Hospital for this?

“Hopefully we’ll get to meet some of the players.”

It was a possibility considering Razors’ Ice was a much smaller arena than NorCal Center.

Izzy strutted into the building with Ally a step behind her. Inside, it was bright and echoed with voices and the sound of pucks being hit.

Ally looked around at the stands sprinkled with a few people here and there. It appeared that only a few die-hard fans and a group of kids had cared enough about the team to come to their practice.

“There’s nobody here.”

Izzy shrugged and took a seat in the front row. “The Razors haven’t exactly had a stellar season. Game attendance has been low because they probably won‘t even make it to the playoffs.”

Ally took a seat next to her. “And we are here because…”

“Because I want to get some player autographs. We just might be able to because there won’t be a million people crowded around. Because I still like the team even though they’ve been playing like crap. Because you needed to get out of the house. You know I love Gram, but you can‘t spend
all
of your time with a ninety year old woman.”

“Gram is my life,” Ally defended. “And she’s only eighty-six.”

“I know, hun. But there’s also more to life than Depends and Polident.”

“Ooh, that reminds me.” Ally took out a pen and scrap of paper from her purse and scribbled on it. “I need to pick up some more of Gram’s vitamins at the store.”

Izzy rolled her eyes and turned to focus on the ice. She didn’t come here to argue with Ally. There were professional athletes on display to be ogled.

The Red Valley Razors’ practice session consisted of a succession of drills. Passing, shooting, face-off, puck handling, and basic fundamentals. The players seemed to be having a good time as they joked around with each other like a band of fraternity brothers.

After the practice, some of the players milled around to sign autographs for the kids and hand out pucks. Ally admired how these men could be so aggressive on the ice and then so nice to the children grouped around them. She turned to say something to Izzy, but when she looked over she realized that Izzy had left her side. Ally looked around to see where she snuck off to and finally found her sidling up to one of the players. Ally watched as Izzy put her hand on his arm and batted her eyelashes up at him as she asked for an autograph. The player was huge in comparison to her tiny friend. He must have been at least six foot four
without
the aide of his skates and he made Izzy look even shorter in comparison.

Unable to help it, Ally smiled to herself at how blatant her friend was with men. Izzy was practically throwing herself at the poor guy. On the other hand, the man in uniform didn’t seem to mind in the least bit and appeared to be instantly taken with her. He smiled down at Izzy from his muscular frame.

Ally waited a few minutes, trying to give Izzy her space, then started walking up to them. She had had enough of this debacle. She was about to ask if they could leave already, when Izzy leaned over to the player and Ally heard her say, “Dominic Devereaux, you looked positively sexy on the ice today. You really know how to handle that stick of yours.”

Good Lord
, Ally thought.
Please don’t let there be any stick handling. Not in front of the children.

There was no holding Izzy back. To make matters worse, her hand was awfully low on the hockey player’s waist. Luckily, most of the children had made their way out by now because Ally was fearful that her friend might straddle him right there in the bleachers. She could see the headline now: “Local Woman Assaults Hockey Player‘s Stick.” News at eleven.

Realizing it would take a freight train to pull Izzy away from her new conquest, Ally decided to go outside and wait for her by the clown car. When she turned to go, a giant Number 20 was standing in her path. Before she could stop her feet from propelling her forward, Ally ran smack dab into the player’s back.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed after the impact and turned around to see who had hit him.

“Excuse me,” Ally mumbled and tried to regain her footing. She attempted to hurry out of the building without making a bigger fool out of herself, but was stopped in her tracks when the player’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

Startled, she spun around, looked up and was greeted by the warmest brown eyes she had ever seen. The player blocking her had shaggy brown hair that clumped to his face with sweat. In one hand he held his helmet and stick and his other hand was lightly gripping her arm. “Sorry,” she squeaked, her voice suddenly failing her.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern, still holding on to her.

“Yeah.” His hand was warm and she didn’t want him to let go. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Suddenly, with him looking at her like that, she didn’t remember why she had wanted to get out of there so quickly.

“Are you sure?” He let go of her arm. “That was the kind of hit I’m used to taking on the ice.” He was smiling at her now.

She smiled back. “I’m sure it was. And I’m so sorry about running into you.”

Now, if you will just step aside, I will be on my way to bask in my humiliation.

He made no attempt to let her by. Instead, he asked in a friendly voice, “Did you enjoy the practice?”

“Uh, sure.” She cleared her throat and fumbled for words.

The Number 20 must have been hit too many times in the head on the ice because she could have sworn he was still talking to her. Ally looked to her left then right, but there was no one else around. Yep, he was definitely talking to her.

“You guys look really good out there,” she said finally. Oops. Those won’t the words she was looking for. “I mean…Actually, my friend dragged me here.” Grateful for the change in subject, she pointed to over to Izzy. “She’s over there. The one who left a trail of trampled children behind her to get to your teammate.”

What a friend indeed. Men trumped all things in Izzy’s existence on earth. Instead of “Nothing comes between me and my Calvin’s”, Izzy’s motto may well have been “Nobody comes between me and my Calvin”.

Ally thought back to other places Izzy had talked her into going to. Art galleries, plays, the post office, monster truck races, coffee shops, the dog park (even though neither of them had a dog).
Anywhere
to troll for men.

As for Ally, she was fine all by her lonesome. Or, at least that’s what she told herself when she lay in bed alone at night. Besides, she had no time for a man or a relationship. Her plate was already full. But, then again, she always did have a hard time passing up dessert.

Ally looked back over at Izzy in time to see her clinging to the player and whispering something into his ear. Ally rolled her eyes at the spectacle and Number 20 laughed at her. It was a warm chuckle that sounded like pure kindness.

Watching the practice earlier, Ally thought of hockey as an aggressive and rough sport, but there was nothing barbaric about this man standing in front of her. His smile was kind and although he was a few inches taller than her, he didn’t threaten her at all. If anything, he felt protective and gentle.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, making it sound as if she had been there today just for him.

Ally looked up at him and his eyes were still on her. She pulled her purse closer to her. Now she wished she had dressed a little bit nicer for the practice instead of wearing her old go-to jeans and tee shirt. But, she could have bet a month’s salary that she wouldn’t meet anyone here tonight. Especially not someone so handsome, who was talking to
her,
of all people. And he was looking into her eyes.

“Me too.”

His masculine smell of sweat and salt and ice filled her senses. Her thoughts wandered to him taking a shower in the locker room later. Washing off the sweat, the water trickling down his bod---

“Ally!” Just then, Izzy came plowing up to them, grabbed Ally’s arm and started to pull her to the door. “Omigod! I’ve got great news.” Izzy blabbered on like the Number 20 was invisible.

Right. The six foot two, red jersey wearing, Invisible Man.

Ally whipped her head back to the Number 20 and waved and smiled as Izzy dragged her out to the parking lot.

Perfect.

BOOK: Home Ice
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