Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) (14 page)

Ethan skated several more feet before answering. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. I’m surprised you’re here this early.” Ethan pushed aside a rare moment of insecurity as Cooper fell silent. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, evaluating for weaknesses, no doubt.

“Seriously? I want to get in a skate before we fly out. I’m surprised you’re here.”

“I needed the time on the ice. It relaxes me.”

“I know that story.”

Cooper kicked it up a notch, and Ethan’s competitive drive pushed him to skate harder. As futile as it might be to attempt to skate with one of the fastest skaters in professional hockey, Ethan couldn’t stop himself. They sped around the corners, Ethan breathing hard, Cooper barely breaking a sweat. The man could sprint away and leave Ethan in the dust at any moment, but oddly enough, he didn’t.

“You have a pretty good rhythm going there, but you’re leaning too far forward. Keep your body straighter, and push out to the side, not straight back.”

Ethan didn’t dare expend excess energy by answering—he needed everything he had for concentrating on his skating technique and breathing. It wasn’t often a fan got a lesson from one of the all-time greats. Cooper pushed him harder, faster, as they raced around the rink. He seemed to know just how hard to push Ethan without completely destroying him.

Ethan held his own and when they finally slowed, he saw the grudging respect in Cooper’s eyes. They cooled down in silence except for the swoosh of their skates on ice. Finally Ethan slid to a stop. Cooper did, too.

“Not bad for an amateur. How long have you been skating?”

“Since college, before that just a little bit here and there.”

“If you’d started as a kid, you might’ve had a chance making hockey a career. You’re athletic.” Cooper paid Ethan a rare compliment.

“I played football.”

Cooper shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. I never had time for it. Hockey consumed me. It was my life since I put on my first set of skates.”

“Most NHL players are like that,” Ethan conceded. “More than other athletes, it seems.”

“Hockey is a three-hundred-sixty-five-day-a-year commitment.”

Ethan nodded. A hockey player’s commitment to his sport was one of the things that attracted Ethan to owning a hockey team.

“How long have you been skating here in the mornings?”

“This is the first time, but I skate at home every day. Keeps me in shape, and I enjoy it more than running.”

Cooper studied him for a long moment. “I’ll meet you in the rink same time tomorrow morning.”

“We’re in Boston tomorrow.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Sounds good.” Ethan kept it light, like it wasn’t a big deal, one way or another. But it was—a really big deal.

Without another word, Cooper returned to his skating drills. Ethan hesitated and decided to get out of there before anyone else caught him. He’d attempted to keep his skating private, but he’d skate for national TV if it allowed him to bond with his star player. He had a foot in the door with Cooper; now if he could just win the guy over before the word got out that Ethan was moving the team.

After Lauren, Cooper would be the first person he’d talk to once the gag order was lifted. He owed him that. Hopefully, he could do a strong enough sell job that his star would cooperate. The rest of the team would follow Cooper anywhere.

Ethan just hoped that anywhere was in the right direction.

* * * *

One night later, Lauren sat with Ethan on the glass amidst a rabid Boston crowd. She glanced around warily, not sure she liked the charged atmosphere when it wasn’t a home game. She tugged on her skirt and smoothed the wrinkles out of it, glad she’d gone for prim and proper instead of team loyalty. Loyalty didn’t mean shit when an angry or celebratory crowd mobbed her.

“Are you sure we’re safe sitting down here?” Lauren glanced over her shoulder at the two drunken idiots behind them as she gripped her tablet tightly. Gritting her teeth she faced forward and gazed around the sea of green and white.

Ethan nodded. “We’re not wearing Giants jerseys, so we should be fine.”

“Why do you like to sit down here? The view is better up there.” She pointed to the suites.

He raised one dark brow. God, even his eyebrows were sexy. “The Sleezers are up there.” He slanted one of those boyish, sexy smiles at her, the kind that made her mentally fan herself and wish she could turn her internal AC up high.

Lauren laughed in spite of her nervousness. “You have a point.”

“A really big point. Can’t stand those pricks.”

“On that subject, we totally agree.”

His expression softened, sending her heart into arrhythmia. “We agree on a lot of things, Lauren.”

She locked eyes with his and like every other time, he seemed to read her every thought. She looked away, pretending to be consulting notes on her tablet. He said nothing. When she looked up again, he was staring at the ice, watching the players go through passing and scoring drills.

“We shouldn’t even be here.” Lauren shook her head in amazement.

“We shouldn’t? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you, honey.” He winked at her.

She glared at him. “The
team
. They shouldn’t be here according to all the predictions and analysis.” The Giants had been ranked at the bottom of the division at the beginning of the season. They barely made the playoffs, and now they were seven games away from skating for the Cup.

Incredible. And a real testament to the men down there on the ice, who’d played like a team with a destiny greater than the sum of their parts. There weren’t any show-boaters. Every one of them played like part of a team. She’d like to give the coaches credit for fine-tuning the Giants into a well-honed machine, but she knew better. Cooper and the other team captains ran the show.

“Lauren,” Ethan said, drawing her back attention back to him. “There’s one thing you can’t analyze, and that’s
try.
These guys have it in spades. I’d choose a team with average talent and exceptional drive over an exceptionally talented team with average drive any day of the season and especially when it’s for the Cup. Then all bets are off.”

“We’re still a few guys away from building a team around Cooper and Cedric that can be a contender season after season.”

“That’s my assessment, too.” Ethan turned in his seat, his expression earnest. “I’ve been talking to the ownership group about you. They want you, and they’re willing to pay you a generous salary if you’ll commit to the team for a year.”

Lauren swallowed and stared at the ice. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d worked for, not the money, but the respect, the opportunity to use her knowledge to contribute to the construction of a perennial winner rather than contribute to the copier count or a full pot of coffee. Ethan was handing her dream job to her in a silver cup as big as the Stanley.

But there was the matter of her father and her obligation to him. Not to mention the man held a grudge, and even as his daughter, she never wanted to be on the receiving end of his retribution.

“Can we talk about it later?” she said as the puck dropped and the crowd whipped itself into a frenzy, ruling out any further discussion.

Ethan grinned at her and turned back to the game. Lauren did so too, though her mind went somewhere else and that somewhere had to do with the sexy businessman sitting in the next seat.

* * * *

After the game, a close three-to-four loss, Ethan headed for the hotel bar with Lauren in tow. Not a player in sight because of curfew. After a private team dinner in a banquet room, Coop and Cedric had herded them off to bed.

They ate dinner and discussed the loss, evaluating it in minute detail. Ethan prolonged the inevitable goodnights, not wanting to part from Lauren. He craved everything about her, from her open, genuine smile to her ability to put him in his place with one withering look to her conservative business suits. His mother would adore her except for the one small fact that Lauren worked for him or would soon. That wouldn’t go over well, especially after his one disastrous work relationship. Several million dollars and burning embarrassment later, he’d been screwed so badly, he’d avoided anything beyond one-night stands. And why was he thinking about this?

Lauren.

Her name conjured up an image of another Lauren, along with old black and white movies back in the days when romance really was romantic. Ethan wasn’t much for romance, but with the right woman he might be swayed to find a romantic bone in his body, while he was finding all those things he loved about her body.

Shit.

He ran his hand through his too-long hair and scratched his chin, hating the scruff, but realizing the necessity.

“So was someone in your family a fan of Bogie and Bacall?” He asked conversationally because that topic skated on thicker ice than the one his brain wanted to discuss.

She smiled up at him. “Yes, my great grandmother on my dad’s side. She insisted I be named after Lauren Bacall. She thought I had those cat-like eyes even as a baby.”

Ethan leaned forward and studied her. “You do have her eyes.”

“Are you a fan?” She ducked her head, blushing. He liked it when she blushed.

“Of you or her?” He chuckled and her eyes widened with shock. “The answer to both is yes.”

“Ethan. We’re colleagues, nothing else.” Her face flushed an even darker shade of red, and he had to grin, feeling devilish for jerking her chain and enjoying every moment of it.

“We’re more than that. I consider you a friend, Lauren.”

She didn’t respond right away. “I think of you as a friend, too.”

“Took you a while to figure that out.”

“I have trust issues.” She quipped.

He laughed, but inside his gut clenched. “Don’t we all, Lauren? Don’t we all?” He glanced at his phone. “We probably should call it a night. The staff is staring at us.”

Lauren glanced around, surprised darkening those beautiful eyes of hers. “We’re the only ones in here.”

“That we are, Lauren. That we are.” Ethan paid the bill and stood, resting his hand on Lauren’s back as he escorted her through the eerily quiet lobby and to the elevator. She punched her floor, and he punched his. They stood on opposite sides of the elevator, suddenly as uncomfortable as strangers.

Ethan felt the pull between them, that invisible cord tightening, attempting to bring them together. He took a step closer; so did she. Before he knew it, only a foot separated them. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently walked her backward until he’d pinned her against the elevator wall. Her lips parted, and he accepted the invitation.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Brad walked in, and they jumped apart.

“What’s up, kids?”

“You have the worst fucking timing,” Ethan growled.

“Looks like damn good timing to me.” Brad grinned from ear to ear.

Ethan didn’t feel like grinning. Not one damn, fucking bit. He felt like giving Brad’s dentist some business by rearranging some of his teeth.

Lauren took advantage of the opportunity and slipped around them, down the hall, and into her room.

Ethan stared after her, pissed and relieved at the same time.

Chapter 11—Goal on Net

The Giants lost the first two semifinal games with Boston by one goal each, despite the brilliant play of Cooper and Cedric. The rest of the team played tired, and nothing Coop or Ced did fired them up. Lauren bit off all her fingernails in the process, and she hated jagged fingernails. After the elevator encounter, which she so
fondly
called it, she kept Ethan at arms’ length, hard to do when circumstances forced them together at every turn.

Today was game three at home, and she couldn’t sleep for a multitude of reasons. Finally, she gave up and headed to the arena to get an early start on her day and rid herself of disturbingly sexy dreams about one Ethan Williams.

Ethan’s car was parked in the private lot behind the arena, along with Cooper’s. Not unusual for either workaholic man. Lauren searched the office areas, but couldn’t find Ethan anywhere.

Worried he might have gotten into some kind of altercation with Coop, she looked in the locker room, coach’s office, players’ lounge, and press corps area. Even the men’s bathrooms. Nothing. Unless he was in the stands somewhere watching Coop skate his early morning workout. She walked onto the second level for a view of the lower level seats and the ice, almost dreading what she might find. Hopefully, not bloodshed.

Two men raced around the rink in the dimly lit arena. Their skates swooshed and sprayed ice as they leaned into the corners at breakneck speed.

Lauren did a double take and squinted. A triple take. She sat down hard in the nearest seat. And stared again. Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes. Maybe she had a touch of the flu along with some hallucinations. She felt her forehead, cool to the touch. How about a temporary bout of insanity? An alien abduction? None of those options seemed as farfetched as the two men flying around the arena as if they were best buddies in a friendly little competition. Ethan held his own, though she suspected—actually was certain—Coop wasn’t putting out more than fifty percent, as he pushed Ethan to skate harder. Judging by the sweat running off Ethan’s brow and the lack of sweat on Coop’s, Coop was doing a good job of it.

They circled a few more times, picked up their sticks, and engaged in a game of man-on-man. Coop didn’t hold back this time; he gave Ethan an exhibition he’d never forget, stealing the puck, hitting the net from any and all angles and distances. Sweaty and breathing hard, they finally cooled down and skated off the ice to the locker room. Their laughter echoed throughout the empty building long after the door shut behind them, and the sound shocked the shit out of Lauren.

How long had this been going on right under her nose? Why hadn’t Ethan mentioned he was a decent hockey player? Not pro caliber but damn good for an amateur. Her father had been right all along; nothing was as it seemed.

She rubbed her eyes, still coming to terms with this discovery. Finally, she stood and walked down the stairs to the locker room and waited for Ethan to walk out. He emerged finally, smiling, with his dark hair wet from a recent shower, and his face flushed from the workout. He wore his usual wrinkled T-shirt and faded jeans. His blue eyes widened when he saw her, but he recovered quickly.