Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) (10 page)

The win advanced the Giants to the second round, and the Sleezers suddenly sat up and took notice—unfortunately. Attention whores and opportunists, they conducted interviews, waxing poetic about how they were the stewards of their father’s vision. Lauren wanted to puke.

Ethan never commented on the Sleezers, maintaining a politically correct and polite relationship with the worthless brothers. They, in turn, catered to Ethan, as if they owed him something. It was strange, and Lauren wasn’t the only one who noticed. In fact, her father tried to corner her several times, but she managed to slip past him.

Lauren wasn’t so lucky this afternoon. She walked into the long concrete hallway outside of the locker room just before game one of the quarter-finals in New York. Her father walked out of the visiting coach’s office and stopped, waiting for her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Leave it to Dad to get straight to the point, reminding her of another infuriating man in her life.

“I’ve been busy.” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, feeling as if her association with Ethan had betrayed her father.

“Coach is worried.”

“About the team? They seem to be in a groove; I’d think he’d be flying high.” Lauren glanced about for a reason to escape.

“About the Sleezers, the sale—something seems out of whack.”

Lauren chewed on her lower lip and stalled. Something did seem out of whack, and in the past, she’d discussed stuff like this with her father. Something held her back this time, maybe a misplaced loyalty to Ethan.

Ethan took her seriously and respected her opinions, which was more than she could say for the men managing this organization. It felt good to be given credit for her knowledge. The others discounted what she said because Number One she was young, and Number Two she was a woman. She’d make a suggestion, and they wouldn’t hear her. A few minutes later a man would make the same suggestion and they’d declare him brilliant.

So, yeah, maybe she did owe a little loyalty to the man who listened and actually gave her credit for her knowledge and hard work.

“I’m sure Coach doesn’t have a thing to worry about.” Except as a member of the good ol’ boys’ network, he didn’t strike Lauren as the type of coach Ethan would want on staff, but then Ethan wouldn’t be making those decisions. Surely new ownership would keep the current GM, but then he wasn’t even as progressive as Coach, and that was saying a hell of a lot.

Her father narrowed his eyes and studied her. “And you know this how?”

“I don’t know at all, but I doubt the new owners will clean house until they evaluate what they have.”

“Isn’t that what your friend Ethan is doing here?”

“Ethan is not my friend. I’ve been told to work with him, so I am. It’s my job.”

“It’s your job to be loyal to this team and the staff who gave you a shot when no one else would. Don’t forget that, Lauren. Don’t let some handsome bastard destroy your good sense.”

Lauren bristled and bit back a smart-mouth retort. “Dad, don’t worry about me. I’ve always been the practical, clinical one, except for one lapse in judgment, and I learned my lesson.”

“You’ll do anything for the good of the team and for the good of hockey. You have the same passion for it as the boys, much to your mother’s disgust.”

Yeah, it was true that her girlie mother hated hockey, hated the violence, and hated the fact that her daughter embraced hockey with a passion to equal that of the male members of the family. Her mom had never forgiven her for following her father and brothers into hockey, which probably contributed to why Lauren seldom saw her. If Mom wasn’t bitching about hockey, she was bitching about Lauren’s father to the point where she’d forced each of her children to pick between their parents. They’d all picked Dad over a mother who partied like a college kid and never grew out of it. Last Lauren heard, she was living in Vegas and dating a limo driver half her age.

Aunt Jo, their father’s sister, came to live with them and raised them while their dad travelled on road trips. Aunt Jo was gay, but her girlfriend, a prominent doctor, stayed firmly entrenched in the closet so Jo lived with them and snuck in secret rendezvous with the love of her life.

Aunt Jo loved hockey as much as the men in the family and taught Lauren a lot about it. Their mother was appalled that her children were being raised by “that” woman. Since she didn’t want the responsibility of raising children herself, her bitching didn’t carry any threat to their odd little family.

Lauren hadn’t exactly been raised to be a girlie girl, but thanks to a college roommate, she’d picked up the finer points of makeup and clothes. Ethan, who obviously knew how to hang with the rich and famous, could slum with the best of them in his worn jeans and ratty T-shirts. She envied and admired the confidence it took to not care about what others thought while she had to dress the part to gain even a smidgen of respect. Damn, lately every thought she had circled back to Ethan. Just yesterday she was thinking about whether or not to get a latte or an espresso, and she wondered which Ethan would pick. This morning in the shower she wondered what kind of soap he preferred—a regular bar of soap or some frou-frou stuff.

Her father snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Hey, pumpkin, where did you go?”

“Nothing, just thinking about Aunt Jo, wondering how she is. Have you heard from her lately?”

“No, not in a month or so. I’m guessing she’s busy. We’ll hear from her eventually. We always do.” Her father met her gaze, his own troubled, and Lauren felt a twinge of guilt, knowing she was hiding stuff from him—her own father, the man who’d do anything for his little girl—well, if she was being honest, only if it wasn’t hockey season and her brothers didn’t need him. “Lauren, what do you hear from your mother?”

“Nothing. She’s off with her latest boy toy; last I heard they were living in Vegas, and she was bartending and he drives a limo.”

“Figures.” Lon muttered. “What are you hearing about the Sleezers and Williams’s group?”

“Nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing. What about your group?”

“They’re in conversations with the commissioner, not sure it’s getting anywhere. He’s being evasive.”

“Nothing new there.” Lauren frowned, recalling Kaley’s report of Brad flying from Seattle, which still troubled her. Ridiculous. Seattle had a lot going for it. It’d make sense a guy like Brad would have business there. It didn’t mean a thing.

“Lauren, do some digging for me. Find out if that guy is on the up and up. I want to know what his story is.”

“Dad, he’s pretty closemouthed.”

“You’re clever, Lauren. Trick it out of him.” Lon waved at the coach as he walked by. “I’m counting on you,” he called over his shoulder as he caught up with Coach; soon their heads were bent together as they walked down the long hallway and out the double doors.

Lauren stared after them. What the hell was she going to do? Did she have the guts or mind for the information her father wanted, and did she even want to find out the truth?

* * * *

Ethan glanced at his watch and resisted the urge to pace in the box, waiting for the first game of the second round in New York.

The Sleezers weren’t there yet, thank God, but it wasn’t the Sleezers he was worried about. Where the hell was Lauren? Usually she beat him to the box, and he’d find her tapping away on her tablet, taking notes, and watching warmups to see who seemed on and who seemed off. But tonight she was conspicuously absent, and her absence bothered him. A lot.

He needed her grounding presence because right now he was anything but grounded. He was a ship cast adrift and floating away from shore.

In fact, lately, he’d begun to think it was Brad and him against the world, or at least the league. Something was up with the Sleezers, and based on the murmurings he’d heard about a group headed by Lauren’s father, Ethan feared his agreement didn’t amount to shit until he had the team packed up and moved to Seattle. Without the league’s final blessing, any agreement wouldn’t be worth the paper it was printed on. He feared the Sleezers would be true to their name and sell out to the highest bidder.

Fine, he could play hard ball and match them penny for penny. Only he couldn’t do a damn thing about a team that was playing above their abilities and a city who had suddenly rallied around them. Public opinion mattered, as long as the cash backed it up.

Then there was Lauren. Fucking hell, he’d kissed her. Even worse, as much as he should regret that kiss, he didn’t, not one bit. She’d felt too good, too right, too soft and pliable in his arms. A guy couldn’t regret something like that no matter how stupid it might be.

And where did Lauren figure into all this? Where did her loyalties lie? Was she a spy for the other side? Just when he was beginning to trust her and she trust him, those doubts started gnawing away at their fragile trust. Not that he deserved her trust, not really. But he did have the best interests of the team at heart and hopefully that’d count for something.

But Lon was Lauren’s father. He’d mount a campaign to keep the team in town, not to mention keep his job safe and sound. Ethan couldn’t guarantee job security for any of the current staff, except Lauren. She was brilliant, and the more he listened to her, the more he wanted her as part of the Sockeyes’ organization.

How the fuck was he going to achieve that monumental task? Ethan didn’t possess the mountain of charm it would take to convince her to join his team once she knew the complete story. Now Brad might, but he doubted even Brad’s charisma could fix this mess.

The door opened, and he jerked around to see who it was. He couldn’t stop the flood of relief most likely showing on his face. “I was worried about you.” The words escaped like a puck shooting across the ice.

She looked at him through lowered lashes and smiled at him as she slid into her seat. “I’m fine.”

God, she was hot when she played the coy female. Ethan shrugged and fought for control. “It’s just not like you to be late like this.”

“My taxi got caught up in traffic. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can. It was just out of character.”

Lauren’s hazel eyes focused on him, and he almost fidgeted, a weakness he never showed. But she was his weakness. After that one aborted kiss, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again and taking it farther until nothing separated them but skin. Hell, he’d crawl under her skin given half the chance.

He blinked a few times, finding her staring at him strangely. He smiled a broad smile as if nothing was wrong. She smiled back, even though suspicion laced her smile. She had a right to be suspicious, and she didn’t know the half of it. If only he could confide in her, but not only did he have a gag order to obey, surely her loyalties would lie with her father, not with him.

He couldn’t blame her, but he’d give anything to be able to share his vision for a hockey dynasty in the Pacific Northwest with her at his side, strictly professionally of course.

“No Sleezers?” she asked.

“Are you complaining?”

“Fuck no.”

Ethan chuckled. “I feel the same way. Let’s hope they don’t make it.”

“They’ll be here if we win. At least to bask in the attention.”

Ethan shrugged. He didn’t care much about the Sleezers other than whether or not the assholes might screw him over or start a bidding war in which they’d be the only winners.

He wanted this move to happen with a minimal amount of drama but maybe he’d underestimated the resistance he might get in the end.

“So Lauren, what do you think the team’s chances are tonight?”

Lauren shook her head. “They’re playing out of their minds, like a team possessed, like they’re playing for their hockey lives. Inspired play, really. This team doesn’t have the talent to carry them this far.”

“Sometimes trying and believing go further than talent.”

“They do in this case.”

Ethan had to smile. “You’re proud of your boys, aren’t you?”

Lauren turned to him, her eyes lit up with pure joy. “Yes, yes, I am. They deserve better than they get.”

“Better what exactly?”

“A more loyal fan base, more progressive coaching methods to capitalize on the relatively young team and inspire them to—” She stopped and jerked her head away from him, staring at the ice. Her mortified expression telegraphed her fear of having said too much.

Ethan moved to stand beside her, their shoulders rubbing. “Lauren, I only want what’s best for the team. You have to trust me no matter what happens or what people say.”

“What do you mean
you
want what’s best for the team?” She turned to him, her gaze shrewd, as if assessing his minor slip-up.

“I mean the ownership group, of which I’m a part in some small way.”

“Do they really want that? Do you want that? What would you do, Ethan, to give this team the support it deserves.”

Ethan hesitated. “I’d do almost everything you’ve outlined to me. I’d give them the best facilities. I’d pay for the best players, and I’d hire the best support staff money could buy.”

Lauren nodded and stared into his eyes. “I think you would do that, Ethan, because I suspect you don’t do anything halfway.”

If she only knew.

* * * *

She should’ve said no. A smart woman would’ve gone back to her room and turned down his offer for a late dinner, but she was starved. At least, that was her story, and she was rocking the denial card pretty damn hard right about now.

The Giants won their first game against a talented New York team and their hostile and rabid home crowd. After that game, she couldn’t possibly sleep. She wanted to talk hockey all night long, and Ethan would be more than happy to accommodate her.

Lauren looked forward to their post-game analysis of the team. Ethan was catching on. While he still asked more questions than he answered, he came up with a few good insights, which surprised and pleased her. She took a small measure of credit for his growing hockey knowledge.

Despite her best efforts, she liked Ethan, might even consider him somewhat of a friend. He was the consummate gentleman, except for that one lapse, never coming on to her and keeping everything friendly and businesslike. She was the one who had all these carnal thoughts about him. Well, maybe not the only one. She’d seen the fire burning in his eyes on more than one occasion.