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Authors: Catherine Gayle

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Delay of Game (43 page)

BOOK: Delay of Game
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He did…with kisses. He crawled over me, supporting his weight with his arms and legs, and he brushed his lips over mine repeatedly until we were both feverish and frantic and I was tugging him down to me by his tie. I never wanted to come up for air. I just wanted to feel the weight of his body, the strength of his arms, the tease of his tongue.

“You played well tonight,” I said when he moved his kisses to the side of my neck.

He grunted and kept kissing me, using his tongue to tickle the sensitive spot below my ear until I was giggling and trying to shove him off me.

“Did you mean it?” he asked as he rolled us over, bringing me on top of him so I had to straddle his waist to keep myself steady. “When you said you loved me?”

I studied his eyes in the dim light shining in through my window, holding his head between both my hands. It had been a long time since his facial hair had gone from being scruff to being a full-fledged playoff beard—the wildest of all the guys’ beards on the team, which was a stark contrast to his buzzed hair—and his whiskers tickled my palms.

“Yes, I meant it,” I replied.

He smiled, although it was difficult to make out beneath that beard. His eyes gave it away though. They crinkled at the corners and lit up in a way that was incredibly rare. “Tell me again. Tell me when I can see you.”

My heart picked up a fluttery rhythm, so different from the frenzied beating from moments ago. I bit my lower lip, watching his eyes drop there before flicking back up to meet mine. “I love you.” But I didn’t want to stop there, even though he looked ready to devour me whole upon that declaration. “I love you because you’re almost as stubborn as me so you’ll fit in well with me and Daddy. I love you because you understand that when I try to push you away, that’s when I need you to pull me closer. I love you because you shared your family with me even before I thought I was ready for them. I love you because you love my shoes more than I do. I love you because you’re this big fighter on the ice, but you’re not embarrassed to have a tiny, fluffy, deaf dog. I love you because you’re not afraid to do what’s right. But most of all, I love you because you see who I really am, and you let me see who you really are, and we don’t have to hide it when we’re together.”

He drew me down to kiss me then, deep and slow, unhurried. And that was exactly how he made love to me, too—slow and easy, the two of us spooning on our sides so it wouldn’t hurt me, with lots of gentle caresses and kisses and
I love yous
.

This time, we didn’t cause any setbacks with my injured ribs.

DADDY AND I
had both healed enough that we were able to go to Game Six at the Moda Center. It was weird having my father sitting in the owner’s box with all the players’ wives and girlfriends and kids, but so many of them had been helping to take care of us over the last month that it ended up not being nearly as awkward as it otherwise might have been. Tuck Shaw decided not to play with the other kids that night, instead choosing to sit on Daddy’s lap throughout the game. He was asleep by halfway through the third period and didn’t wake up even when the goal horn blasted in overtime, when Zee scored to win the game and force Game Seven.

Once the guys started trickling up to the owner’s box to get their families and Babs took Tuck from my father’s lap, Daddy excused himself for a few minutes to go talk to Jim Sutter. Cam came up and planted a big, wet kiss on my lips as soon as Daddy walked away, not stopping until my father cleared his throat behind us.

We both looked over at him with eyebrows raised, but neither of us let go of the other.

“Want to fly to LA with the team tomorrow?” he asked.

Traveling with the team had never been high on my priority list before, not since I was forced to do that when I was a kid—Daddy couldn’t leave me home alone back then—but it was funny how fast things could change.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” I said.

Cam pulled me closer and kissed me again. “I guess dating the coach’s daughter comes with a few unexpected perks.”

I supposed it did.

IN THE END
, the Kings won Game Seven and the series. They got to move on to compete for the Western Conference Championship, and the Storm headed home for the off-season.

The playoff run that our boys put together, though, helped put the team back on the map as a contender, a team that others would have to look out for. We hadn’t been to the playoffs in five years, so a lot of people had written us off. Our group of guys—Scotty’s boys—proved that overlooking us was a big mistake, not only to ourselves, but to the world.

Every game in the series against the Kings had been decided by a single goal, and three of those games went to overtime. LA was a team that most of the oddsmakers had put down as the heavy favorite to win the Stanley Cup even before the playoffs had started, but the Portland Storm had stayed right with them, toe to toe, for seven whole games.

That meant we were able to go home with our heads held high and the knowledge that next season had the potential to be even better.

Jim told us to take the day after Game Seven off, but then everyone had to go in the following day to clean out our lockers and go through exit interviews with the coaches. On the flight back to PDX, Jim had asked Scotty to come in that day, too—not to take part in all of the exit interviews, but to talk about his own future with the team—so I took him to the practice facility with me. We asked Sara if she wanted to come, too, but she, Dana, and Noelle had some plans for the day.

Exit interview day was always bittersweet.

When it rolled around, it meant you got to take a break, finally. It meant getting to go home and see your family, the place where you grew up, maybe taking a vacation to somewhere you’d never been before. A lot of guys got married in the summer, as Soupy and Zee were planning to do, and Babs was excited because the next Babcock brother, Levi, was getting ready to go through the NHL draft.

But we also had to say good-bye to the guys we’d spent so much time with over the last eight months or so, and we knew that not all of us would be back next season. There were always trades, free agent signings, retirements… Our family was going to change, bit by bit. As it was, the team we’d put on the ice this season looked drastically different from the one we’d had only two years ago. Jim was shaping us, molding us into his vision of what a winning team should be. So far, it had been working, too. But I had to wonder where I fit within his plans for the future. My contract was up at the end of this season. I was still a restricted free agent, so he could make sure I stayed here with the Storm if that was what he wanted. God knew it was what
I
wanted. But all he’d said to me or my agent throughout the season when we’d talked about it was,
Let’s wait until the off-season to discuss it
.

Well, now it was the off-season.

I spent some time talking with Bergy and Hammer, who were pleased with how I’d come back into the lineup and played the kind of game they expected of me. They suggested I work with a speed skating coach in the off-season because if there was one area I could use improvement in terms of the direction the team was heading, it was that I needed to be a little more explosive with my first two or three strides. Then I finished packing up all of my personal effects and I did a stint in front of the media, answering questions about my suspension for the bazillionth time.

I was about to find a spot to talk to a few of the guys while I waited on Scotty to finish up when Jim called to me from across the locker room.

“Jonny! Got a few minutes?”

I nodded and followed him up to his office. Rachel grinned at me when we went in, but she was on the phone so she couldn’t talk.

Jim shut the door behind us. “How are you feeling about next year?” he asked.

“A lot better now that I know I don’t have any of that suspension carrying over.”

He smiled and took off his glasses, folding in the earpieces and setting the specs on his desk. He sat down next to me. “Do you still want to be a member of the Storm?”

There wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be or anything else I’d prefer to be doing. I nodded.

“Good. We want you to be here, too.” He crossed one ankle over his knee, sitting back in the chair. “I’ll work it all out with your agent over the summer, but I wanted to be sure we were all on the same page first. We’re looking at probably a three-year deal if that sounds agreeable to you.”

Guys like me—enforcers—were a hell of a lot more likely to get a one- or two-year deal than anything. I couldn’t complain about being offered three to stay with the team I loved.

“That sounds great,” I said, trying not to let too much excitement seep through. There were still negotiations to be had, after all, and this was a business decision.

“Good, good. Things are going to be different next year, though. You should know that Scotty just stepped down as the head coach.” He must have noticed my tension, because he rushed to add, “He’s still going to be in the organization. We’re just going to find a lower-stress place for him, something where he doesn’t have to travel so much and where there isn’t as much pressure on a day-to-day basis. But that means there will be a new head coach. I’m sure you’ll do just fine with whoever we bring in, though.”

I would. Coaching changes never affected me too much because I knew my job. It was to protect my teammates. That wasn’t going to change, no matter who they brought in.

“All right,” Jim said. “Have a good summer, Jonny. Don’t let Sara give Scotty too much grief.”

I got up and shook his hand, and by the time I got back to the locker room, Scotty was down there holding court with some of the boys. It still amazed me to see how much looser he was around the guys these days. Sometimes, even though I’d been living with him and seen a completely different side of him, I still expected him to start yelling at us and turning red in the face.

Eventually, we started making our way out of the building, but it was slow-going. I promised Zee and Soupy I’d see them in Providence in a little over a month for their weddings. Scotty grabbed Babs by the neck and pulled him aside for a few minutes, telling him God only knew what because it left the kid blushing with those dimples popping out. Nicky and Kally were talking in Swedish off to the side of the room, but they both came over to shake my hand.

“I’m going to sort my shit out,” Nicky promised, and I nodded, hoping I could believe him.

The last guy I talked to on my way out the door was Burnzie. He leaned a hip against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. “Since you’re with Sara now, you think she can convince you to come over on the weekends more than you usually do?”

He was quickly running out of single guys on the team who weren’t pretty much as young as Babs. Everyone was getting married and starting families, and that changed the dynamics of his parties.

I laughed and shrugged. “Maybe?” There weren’t many things I wouldn’t do for her, if she wanted me to. Once she figured that out, I was going to be in some serious trouble.

“All right.” Burnzie flashed his trademark grin at me and shook my hand. “Have a good summer, Jonny. Don’t get so caught up in Sara you forget to work on your golf swing.”

“My golf swing doesn’t need any work,” I replied.

Scotty had finally finished talking to Babs, and he and I headed out. “You know what does need some work?” he asked me. “Your slap shot. You need to get down lower to the ice, get some more torque on it.”

He might not be the Storm’s coach anymore, but I doubted you’d ever be able to take the coach out of him.

Sara was waiting for us when we got back to his house—and she wasn’t alone. She had a German shepherd by her side, and Buster was doing his best impression of a yappy puppy, racing circles around the other dog and barking up a storm. The bigger dog just looked down at him like he was an idiot. I could understand that sentiment.

“What’s this?” Scotty asked.

“This,” Sara said, scratching behind the German shepherd’s ears, “is Coco. She’s four years old, and she’s healthy as a horse and completely loveable, and her previous owner died. She was left all alone. But now she’s yours. Noelle helped me find her for you.”

BOOK: Delay of Game
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