Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (20 page)

BOOK: Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7)
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The Jumbotron screen showed them, then the dancers on the platform who kept with their rhythm, every step a reflection, so much passion in every gesture the crowd couldn’t help but be sucked in to the excitement.

All the screaming, the cheers, hell, even the catcalls made Sahara’s heart beat a little faster as she smiled and rushed away from the rest of the group to do another leap, landing only to spin in place until the world became a blur. She had given up her dreams of playing hockey so long ago, but she’d still found a way to be part of the sport she’d been born to love. Some of her best memories were from sitting out there in the stands, high above the ice but feeling every check into the boards, every fight, every goal, and every win as though she were right there with the players.

Maybe the Ice Girls weren’t all that important, but they were a link between the fans and the team. Their dancing and their cheering expressed so much of what the crowd experienced. The opinions of the critics were irrelevant. Once they were done, all that mattered was they were all screaming for the same result.

A home ice win for the team that represented them all.

When they finished, they quickly cleared the ice and raced back to the locker room. Sahara changed into her sneakers and ran with Akira up to the wives’ box to see the puck drop.

By the time they got there, the anthems had both been sung. The puck hit the ice and the crowd roared as Dominik took possession. He jetted between the Islander forwards, evaded their defense, and snapped the puck at the goal.

The lamp lit up and the cheers were deafening. Sahara jumped, clapping and screaming until her throat was sore. There was nothing like a goal within the first second of a game to set the pace.

“Sahara!” Akira grabbed her arm, bouncing as she pointed down at the ice. Then at the huge Jumbotron screen.

Huddled among his men, Dominik grinned, accepting their praise, but he was looking up, as though searching for someone. Ramos moved closer, saying something to him before pointing up to the wives’ box.

There was no way he could see her, but Sahara could feel his eyes on her as he clearly mouthed the words “For you.” Then winked.

Her heart forgot how to beat properly. She pressed her fingers to her lips, skittering out of view of the camera when she saw her own shocked expression on the screen. Around her, all the wives and girlfriends were giggling. Whispering excitedly.

But she hardly noticed them. She had a hard time staying put. She wanted to go down there and hug Dominik and thank him.

There were no words for how that gesture made her feel. Yes, she’d asked him to score a goal for her, but there’d been no guarantee. But he’d done it. He’d actually done it.

Screw diamonds and flowers and sweet words. That 1-0 on the scoreboard meant more than any gift her man could give her.

He’s not your man.

Not yet. But he would be.

You’re not ready.

She told herself to shut up and laughed, drawing a few curious glances. Maybe she’d needed some time to figure out what was going on in her own head, but all her doubts were gone. Not only because of the goal. The goal had just pushed her to accept all she could have if she let herself believe she deserved to be happy.

And she was happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy.

The only problem was, she’d put up her own roadblocks. Yeah, she and Dominik had talked, but he would need more than an “I’m ready” to show him she’d done a complete 180 and wanted to give them a real shot.

She wished she could tell him this instant, but he didn’t exactly have an office job where she could just call him up. Or text him.

He might notice one of those great big signs…

Okay, she had to pull herself together. He’d made an awesome gesture without going over the top. There was no mistaking where he stood.

All she had to do was find a subtle—and
rational
—way to do the same.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Dominik’s goal ended up being the only one, though the rookie, Heath Ladd, came close more than a few times. While the other players had trouble breaking out of the neutral zone, Ladd cut into the opposition like a hot blade through butter. The kid was fast, so he seemed to be on a different pace than everyone else on both teams.

But his efforts only resulted in repeated rings off the post.

The crowd groaned. The team gave Ladd quiet words of encouragement.

The boy reacted to neither. He was calm to the extreme. Composed.

He did, however, let himself smile a little when the Cobras won. Dominik kept an eye on him, hoping to get a clue about how to deal with the boy by how he interacted with the team. So far, he was polite and practically mute. He grinned at Bower when the game ended, waiting near the boards for the rest of the guys to finish congratulating the goalie.

Holding back, Dominik watched Ladd approach Bower.

“Great game, mate.” Ladd rubbed his glove across his lips. “Been wantin’ to see ya play.”

Bower straightened to his full height, a big grin spreading across his lips. “Yeah? Well, thanks, kid. You were pretty good yourself. I think you’ll get your first goal in New York for sure.”

Ladd shrugged. He’d apparently said all he was going to say, but it was better than the one word replies everyone else—including Dominik—got from the boy. Maybe he could use Bower’s help to get the boy settled. The younger players had tried welcoming the rookie, but he’d nodded and grunted a lot to all their questions.

Carter, who was usually friendly with everyone, had muttered at one point, “The new guy’s stuck-up.”

Easy to assume, but Dominik had a feeling Ladd was observing them all, trying to figure out where he fit in.

Which, in the playoffs, would have to happen quickly.

Back in the locker room, Dominik changed into jeans and a hoodie, grabbing his jacket before joining Ladd at his stall. The younger man had a long-sleeved shirt, but he hadn’t brought along anything warmer. He’d come straight from London with a small suitcase and his hockey equipment. The weather down here was unseasonably warm, but this close to the ocean, nights still hovered close to freezing.

Poor kid was going to have a hard time getting used to the weather. Hopefully, the rest of his things would be shipped over soon. He had a one-way contract, so he didn’t have to worry about being sent back down. He’d been in Ontario for almost a year, but after looking Ladd up online, Dominik had found out that he’d had been in Russia as a junior. So the cold wasn’t a new thing, but he hadn’t been prepared for spring in Nova Scotia.

At least Dominik was parked inside. So tonight wouldn’t be too bad, but if Ladd’s stuff didn’t get here before they flew to New York tomorrow, he’d need to pick up a few things. Dominik would lend him something if he needed it—the kid would drown in most of his stuff though. He was tall, but wiry.

“Ready to go, Ladd?” Dominik called out. He had to fight not to laugh when he caught Ladd staring at Bower. Tyler and Richards had been like that with Zovko when he’d joined the team. Sometimes younger players got a case of hero worship. Bower had had an amazing season, so it wasn’t surprising that a boy who’d fought the odds and become one of the first—if not
the
first—Australian-born player to sign in the league would look up to him.

So long as it was just admiration, there’d be no issue. If it was more, he’d have to talk to the kid. Lusting after a guy involved with the man who handled your contract wasn’t a good way to start a stable career.

Ladd tore his gaze away from Bower and nodded at Dominik as he hefted up his sports bag. “Yeah, mate.”

That was it. Dominik sighed, not even sure why it irritated him that he couldn’t get more words out of the kid. Taking a nap hadn’t been difficult after he’d shown Ladd around his house. The boy disappeared into his new room and didn’t make a sound until Dominik told him it was time to get ready to go. He’d told Ladd to help himself to food, a shower, whatever he needed.

A few “Thanks.” A “Nope” when he asked if the kid needed anything else. A shrug when he dug a little deeper, wanting to know if the rookie had any questions.

Maybe Ladd was shy. He’d get over it. So long as he was an asset on the ice, his social skills were irrelevant.

Leading the way down the hall, Dominik pulled his phone out of his pocket to text Sahara. He’d wanted to see her before going home, but she was likely hanging out with her friends. Introducing her to Ladd didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. The boy was so closed off, had met so many people tonight, any more would be awkward.

He could always drop Ladd off if she did want to spend time with him though.

Dominik: Hey, sunshine. What are your plans for the night?

Sahara: Looking for you. I went down to the locker room as quick as I could, but you’re not here!

Chuckling, he stopped by the door to the parking lot and held up his hand for Ladd to wait.

Dominik: I apologize. I needed to get Ladd out of the locker room. He hasn’t made the best first impression.

Sahara: Ladd? And where are you? You said I could see you tonight.

Dominik: I did, didn’t I? He’s the rookie rooming with me.

Sahara: Oh…I guess you have to take care of him then. I don’t want to bother you…

Silly girl. He was well aware of her insecurities though, so he wouldn’t tease her. He was pleased that she still wanted to see him.

Actually, he had an idea. An insane one, but it was about time he made a move to see where they were at.

Dominik: Step out of the locker room and you’ll see me.

Suddenly, she was there. Her cheeks were flushed, as though she’d rushed straight from the Ice Girls’ locker room to meet him, which was probably why she hadn’t seen him. She ducked her head as she quickly crossed the distance between them. The pleats of her tiny black skirt bounced off her thighs beneath her snug, black leather jacket. Her hair was in a high ponytail, swinging over her shoulders.

She came up to him, looking like she wanted to throw herself into his arms, but had changed her mind at the last second. Tonguing her bottom lip, she glanced over at Ladd, who was still standing somewhere behind him, completely silent.

“Hey.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Sahara.”

Ladd moved up to Dominik’s side and gave her hand a gentle shake. “Heath Ladd.”

“Nice to meet you. And I’m sorry for stealing Dominik from you, but…well, I’m going to.” Her cheeks grew even redder as she met Dominik’s eyes. “I want this. I want everything. I don’t know exactly what that means, and I know my timing is terrible, but I couldn’t let you leave and not tell you.” She inhaled roughly. Glancing at Ladd again, she visibly relaxed when she saw he’d taken out his phone and looked comfortably distracted. Her focus returned to Dominik. “If you need proof that I’m ready, just tell me what to do. This is new and scary, but it’s everything I want. You…you’re more than I deserve, but—”

He lifted his hand to press a finger to her lips. She was adorable, trying to offer herself to him, all while bracing for rejection. There had been no way for him to get them to this point until she opened that particular door, but now that she had, he was more than willing to take over.

“Enough.” He ran his finger over her lips, then cupped her chin. The bruises were faint, but still a constant reminder of why he hadn’t pressed his claim before. “Are you sure? You were very clear about needing something casual. And I don’t blame you.”

“And I appreciate you giving me space. But I don’t need it anymore.” She peered up into his eyes, leaving no doubt as to what she needed now. “Have you decided you’re still a Dom?”

“Yes.” The admission was both liberating and terrifying. He couldn’t give a woman a simple relationship. He would always be all or nothing.

She nodded. “Then be mine.”

He smiled and reached out for her, wrapping one arm around her waist even as he tipped her chin up. It was time to lay all his cards on the table and see if she would take the bet...or fold. “Come with me.”

Her brow furrowed. “Where?”

“To New York. We’ve wasted enough time. You need a break from the hell you’ve been through.” He leaned close to her, brushing his lips over hers, tasting the sweetness of them with a flick of his tongue. “And I need you. I need to have you close so I don’t worry. So I can work my magic and convince you that you deserve everything I have to offer.”

She went perfectly still, her lips parted and her eyes closed. For a split second, he worried that he’d put too much pressure on her. She’d been through a lot and this was a big step. Even if she wanted to come, her mind would probably set up all kinds of obstacles. Her team might need her for practice. It was too last minute. She was the offspring of legendary players; she wouldn’t want to distract him from the game.

He had a counter to any objection she might come up with, but he didn’t want to be selfish. She had a life that he didn’t want to stomp all over. Plans that he wasn’t part of. He was willing to wait if that’s what it took to be part of her future. The opportunity had been there before, but he hadn’t taken it. He’d been concerned about how vulnerable she’d been after Tim and Madeline’s death. He’d given her time and space. Both of which she might still need.

“Yes.” She met his gaze, no doubt or hesitation in her eyes. “Let’s do this.”

She didn’t move. Held her breath as she lowered her gaze in the perfect act of submission. His pulse raced as he claimed her lips, lifting her to press her against the wall so she was completely helpless in his arms. She gasped as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth in a way he’d avoided before. He’d denied himself, and her, the depth of his passion because he couldn’t put himself out there again only to see a woman he cared for in the arms of another man.

Training was one thing. He’d enjoyed it with Akira. But he couldn’t do it again. His life had been on hold for long enough. He needed to take that next step. To find someone he could call his own.

That Sahara had played with Pischlar didn’t bother him. The man wasn’t interested in claiming anyone. Or…well, any woman anyway. He’d likely claim White if given the chance.

Which might end up being the only real obstacle. Because Sahara had played with White as well. What if she had feelings for him? White wasn’t as easy to read.

“I know Pischlar likely gave you his speech, but what about White?” Dominik didn’t want to hurt the guy. As much as he wanted Sahara, he had to be practical. If there was something between her and White, it would have to be handled carefully. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I don’t share well.”

“I…” Sahara glanced over at Ladd—Dominik had completely forgotten the rookie was there. “It’s not an issue. We played, but it was mostly because I see how Pisch feels about him. I made it okay, but the rest is between them. I’m kinda hoping it will work out, but I can’t keep up the games. I opened the door. But now I…want something that’s mine.”

“Do you think I will be yours, pet?”

“I hope so.” She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I’m going to go home, get some sleep, then pack. Call me when you get a chance and tell me what time the team’s heading to New York. I’ll grab a flight and meet you there.” She squeezed his hand, practically bouncing in place. Then she turned her attention to Ladd. “It was great to meet you. I hope you weren’t planning to share a room with Dominik? I should have asked, but he offered and—”

Pulling her in to claim her lips and quiet her, Dominik chuckled. Her excitement was contagious, but Ladd had heard more than enough. “He’ll be fine. I’ll get you all the details in the morning.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and laughed. “This is insane, but it feels right.”

It did, but Dominik wouldn’t let himself get carried away. Having her with him on the trip was a step in the right direction, but who knew where things would go from here? At least she had family out there if things didn’t work out.

Either way, there was no reason to ruin the anticipation for her. He gave her a hooded look and wrapped her ponytail around his hand, whispering against her lips. “Pack light, pet. I tend to fully enjoy what you’ve given me to play with when I’m not on the ice.”

She shivered, the flush in her cheeks returning as her eyes widened. “I will. But maybe something pretty in case we go out to dinner or—”

“No need, I’m not bringing you to show you off, Sahara.” He brushed his lips over hers one last time before letting her go. “Sleep well.”

* * * *

 

Sahara was too excited to sleep much that night. She ended up going to Jami’s house and trying to be very, very quiet as she paced around the guest room. Exhaustion finally took over, and she crashed for a few hours. But she woke bright and early, dressing in the jogging pants and Cobra T-shirt Jami loaned her before heading to the kitchen.

At the stove, making scrambled eggs and breakfast sausages, Sebastian glanced over at her, amusement lighting in his dark brown eyes. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but I should probably eat.”


Sí, pequeño
. But help yourself to coffee first. It is fortunate that you will sleep on the flight.” He pushed the eggs around the frying pan with a spatula, then transferred them to a plate. “You were restless last night, yes?”

BOOK: Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7)
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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