Grinder (Seattle Sharks 1)

He was the guy I’d spent every summer with, relaxing at his parent’s cottage, sneaking the horses out of their stalls for midnight rides. Sure, we’d lost touch when I went to Cornell and he went to UDub, but it didn’t dull the fact that I knew him, and that he deserved more than the string of meaningless sex he’d fallen into.

When I opened my eyes again he was a statue before me, locked in faraway thoughts. I hated that I’d put them there, hated that I’d just made him question if he was raising his daughter properly. He was a damn good man and an even better father. He’d demanded to keep Lettie when her mother had decided to run off with another NHL player after she was born. That same season Gage had been benched when he’d broken his collar bone and torn his rotator cuff, but it hadn’t stopped him from soothing night terrors or diaper changes. Besides, it wasn’t like Helen had been much help when she’d actually been around.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. You were right. The bunny ruffled me is all.”

Gage stood so close I could feel the heat coming off his skin. I battled the urge to reach out and touch it, just to see if the muscles underneath it felt as hard as they looked. If he’d just wear a damn shirt once in awhile I wouldn’t be so flustered. That or maybe if I ever had a conquest of my own, but caring for a three-year-old full time didn’t give me a ton of opportunities to hunt one down.

“It’s fine,” he finally said and stepped backward. “I’ll try and do better.”

“That’s not what I meant. Gage, you’re—”

“Daddy, daddy!” Lettie squealed running up to him and wrapping her arms around his leg. “Look!” She held her fully colored paper out to him, pride and accomplishment beaming in her eyes. He took the paper from her and grinned.

“It’s beautiful.” He walked to the stainless-steel fridge and instantly secured the paper with a magnet next to an array of her other drawings. “I think we’re going to need a bigger fridge soon.”

She bounced up and down on her toes before he scooped her up and held her on his hip.

Damn. My ovaries were hotter than the eggs I’d nearly burned a moment ago.

“You want to go to the Zoo today?” He asked, eskimo kissing her.

“Bailey too?” She asked, and both of them glanced my way, their eyes matching in color and hope.

“Of course,” he said. “As long as you say please.”

“Please?” Lettie drug the word out as she bounced in Gage’s arms.

The girl had me wrapped around her finger, not that I would’ve ever dreamed of saying no.

“Check it out, Bailey,” Gage said, motioning to a brochure resting on top of Seattle’s premier art gallery’s marble welcome desk.

After a few hours at the Zoo, we popped in here to show Lettie the newest display of abstracts they’d brought in last week. I crossed the distance to him, Lettie on my hip, her eyes wide as she took in all the artwork, but her little body was exhausted from the outing today.

“Find a new nightclub you’re dying to exploit?” I teased with my eyebrows raised.

He fake laughed. “Funny. No, it says their opening up a small number of slots for an internship.” He handed the brochure to me and I snatched it from him, reading the information quickly.

I’d toured several gallery programs after graduating but hadn’t found a place I’d felt at home in. Here? I could learn from the best in the state and work my way up until I was able to run it or open one of my own. The distant dream pulsed at the back of my mind but Lettie wiggled in my arms.

“Can we see the green one again?” She asked, her body leaning in that direction. “Please.”

“Of course.” I handed the brochure back to Gage. “They probably wouldn’t take me anyway,” I said, shifting Lettie on my hip. “Besides, I have my hands full at the moment.”

Gage pocketed the paperwork, following me as I hurried to the piece Lettie had quickly donned her favorite. “They’d be crazy not to. You have a knack for this. It’s in your blood,” he said. “And you know we could make the schedule work.”

I glanced at him to see if he were joking, shocked to see he not only had full confidence in my abilities but was completely willing to support the endeavor too. I smiled at him. “You may be the best boss I’ve ever had.”

A shudder rippled the muscles threatening to burst out of his thin blue t-shirt. “Don’t call me your boss.”

“What am I supposed to call you? Mr. McPherson? Baby-Daddy?” I clenched my eyes shut the second the word popped out of my mouth. Seriously? Could you be more obvious?

Lettie giggled and I popped my eyes open. Gage licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Gage suits me just fine. Always has.”

I nodded, quickly focusing on the painting in front of us in an attempt to hide the blush heating my cheeks.

Didn’t matter what I called him. He was still setting off every hunger nerve I possessed and I hadn’t even lived with him for more than a day. If this kept up it would be weeks before I was ravenous, and I knew only one thing would slake that need.

Gage McPherson.

My best friend, Seattle Sharks’ best grinder, and my boss.

Chapter 3

Gage

Low and fast, I flew across center ice toward my target.

Time to learn your lesson, asshole.

I met the rookie with the gentle kiss of crushed gear against the boards. The sound was almost as satisfying as watching the arrogant kid crumble at my feet.

Almost.

“For fuck’s sake, McPherson,” coach called from the bench.

I shrugged with a grin as the kid stared up at me, clearly having had his bell rung. Then I passed the puck to Rory just as the final whistle blew.

“You okay, kid?” I asked, skating back over to offer my hand.

“Yeah…” he mumbled, getting to his feet and shuffling toward the bench.

“Still think you’ve got my starting spot on lockdown?” I laughed as he flipped me the middle finger.

“You could have taken it a little easier on him,” Rory said, slapping me on the back.

“Fuck that, you would have made him bleed,” I tossed back.