Hot Puck (Rough Riders Hockey 2)

“It’s tradition. In the locker room, after every win, the MVP from the prior win passes on the ceremonial hat—in our case, that’s an ugly leather tricorne, à la Rough Riders from the 1800s—to whoever that person deems the MVP for that night’s game. Tonight it was me. Since we were going out after, I’m also buying.”

“That’s pretty cool. Why were you MVP tonight?”

“Record hits in one game.”

Her chin tilted up, and she offered a less than impressed “Ah.”

Before he’d given it much thought, he said, “I’m going to warn the guys that if they bother us, they’ll regret it at practice.”

She nodded and grinned, but it was an obligatory kind of smile, and a shadow flitted through her eyes. It lasted only a millisecond, but he’d seen it.

Beckett turned toward the bar, with odd connections firing in his brain, trying to pin down these strange mixed messages he was getting from her. His body was telling him one thing, his brain another, and his gut still another.

While he’d spent decades developing his hockey skills, his true successes lay largely in his finesse. Reading cues, studying human behavior, and understanding habits were as important to him on the ice as knowing how to control the puck. He’d only realized how valuable those skills could also be off the ice in the last few years.

He’d gotten so good at figuring out what women were looking for within a few minutes of conversation, a lot of the guys asked him to screen women before they invested emotional real estate. Women all looked at members of the team differently. Some saw money, some sought fame by association, some simply wanted a good time, quite a few were downright crazy-ass bitches, and others were big-game hunters, shooting for the rock on their finger. And, yeah, he had to admit, a few of the guys had been lucky enough to find women who were truly in love with them despite the shitty schedules, lousy moods, and perpetual career instability.

But whatever he’d seen in Eden’s eyes, he didn’t recognize.

He stepped up next to Donovan and interrupted his bullshitting with Hendrix. “Hey.”

Donovan glanced at Beckett, then immediately looked behind him. “Did you lose her already? Your moves off the ice suck as bad as mine. You have to think about getting a nanny for Lily. You’re never going to find a mom for her like this.”

The guys all thought that was funny. They thought the way Beckett slapped Donovan upside the back of his head was even funnier. But Beckett wasn’t laughing, and he lowered his voice when he told his friend, “You know not to talk about Lily in public.”

“Oh shit,” Donovan said, glancing around to see if anyone other than the team was sitting nearby. “Sorry, man. I forgot.”

Beckett wasn’t going to be able to keep his daughter a secret forever, but until the custody hearing was over, Beckett wanted to keep Lily out of the press.

“And I’m not looking for a mother for Lily.” His daughter had plenty of wonderful women in her life, Beckett’s mother and sister, chief among them. “But I am looking for some quality time with this very hot woman, so don’t even think about bugging us. I already gave my card to Toni. Try not to max my limit, would you?”

“Got it,” Savage said.

“Don’t blow it,” Hendrix added. “You need some good pussy to keep you fresh for this out-of-town run.”

“But not so much that you forget I’m picking you up for the flight tomorrow,” Donovan finished.

Beckett rolled his eyes. “If I leave here before you, would one of you grab my credit card, please?”

They made a bunch of jokes about what they planned to do with his card on their trek home—things that included strip joints, drug dealers, and hookers—for which he called them a bunch of dumb fucks and returned to Eden with a chorus of fresh laughter following him.

She had her elbow on the table and her head resting on her hand. Her other hand twirled a fork in the cake. And when she looked up and saw him coming, she brought the fork to her mouth and licked chocolate off the tines in a slow, fluid sexual move. His groin tingled with an influx of heat, and his head filled with Hendrix’s “You need some good pussy.”

Crude but accurate. His newly acquired single-father status wasn’t the only element in his life that had interfered with sex. The truth was, casual sex held a lot of risk for an athlete at Beckett’s level. Lily and the complications surrounding her custody were proof of those risks. But there were others too—allegations of abuse, defamation of character, lawsuits. So, yeah, his sex life sucked. Big-time. But if his cock’s radar was on target, he might have found exactly what he needed in this beautiful Garden of Eden.

He slid into the booth next to her as she lazily filled the fork with decadence. “Are you playing with that? Or eating it?”

“Little of both. What are they laughing about?”

He narrowed his eyes as his thoughts drifted back to the troublemakers that made up his second family. “Drug dealers and hookers haven’t started taking credit cards, have they?”

“What?” She laughed the word.

Beckett grinned and shook his head, dismissing the sideways thought. “Nothing.”

The teasing mood vanished when she lifted the fork to his lips and watched him take the cake into his mouth. By the time he pulled back and licked his lips, his groin was heavy and hot with an infusion of lust. He let the chocolate decadence melt in his mouth. Rich, sweet, moist. His eyes closed on the raw deliciousness of the dessert.

“Mmm.” He swallowed and smiled. “Good call, gorgeous.”