Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (6 page)

“Huh.” This was fascinating. She shifted in her seat. “How long were you in Nova Scotia?”

“Three years. I was drafted when I was eighteen but played one more year in junior, then started with the Aces when I was twenty. Just turned twenty.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“A seasoned veteran.”

He gave a tiny smile again. “Well, I’m not a rookie anymore.”

“So you left home when you were…fifteen?”

“Sixteen.”

“Wow.”

He shrugged.

“Duncan didn’t leave home until he went to college. That was where he got drafted from.”

“Yeah.”

“Right, I guess you know that. Obviously. Duh.” She paused. “Your parents must be proud of you.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He lifted a shoulder.

“You shouldn’t talk so much,” she said. “Those one-word answers reveal so much about you.”

His mouth opened, his eyes widened, but he didn’t look at her. Then he muttered, “Unholy mother of fuck.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was funny. “I’m sorry. I talk too much. Ask too many questions. I’m just curious about people. You’re interesting.”

“Fuck,” he muttered again, his fingers opening, then closing around the steering wheel.

“Ignore me,” she advised him. “You have a game tonight. You need to focus on that. Um…want to talk about that? What are you going to work on tonight?”

He didn’t answer and his hands clenched again on the steering wheel. Finally he said in a low voice, “We haven’t been playing well lately. There’s a lot to work on. Been working on getting behind the net, protecting the puck. Once you get around back there, there are different angles and passes, it’s tougher to defend against. Guys are checking you hard, though, you gotta protect the puck and be aware of where they are, stay on the puck. I’m working on getting better at that. Gotta win the face-off and I can get behind the net and watch for plays.”

“Or steal the puck if they have it,” she said. “Sometimes they’re not defensive enough if they think they have possession of it.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sending her a long look. “Sometimes that’s when they’re most vulnerable.”

He’d said more in those few minutes than she’d ever heard him say. She liked it.

He parked in his spot at the Moens Center and they got out of his vehicle.

He started toward the ramp where the players entered, then stopped. It was dusky now, and a few stray snowflakes drifted down around his dark shape, a black wool coat over his suit. “Where are you off to?”

“Viviana.” She looked around. “Do you know…?”

“That way.” He pointed. “One block south. I’ll walk you there.”

“No!” She started off. “No, I don’t want to interfere with your game day routine. Thanks for the ride. I’ll find it! Good luck!” She legged it across the parking lot to the street without looking back. Cheese-its, he hated her enough without having to walk her to her destination, which would make him late for his arrival before the game.

Lovey walked into Viviana and looked around for Jillian. She didn’t see her. It was busy already, so she gave her name to the hostess, who showed her to their table. This was a cool place. She’d almost suggested the Sin Bin, but Jillian said this was good too, new and not too expensive.

A pizza bar stretched along one side of the restaurant, with rows of dark wood tables and then some padded booths carved out from a center peninsula. Candles flickered in tall glass containers on the tables and lots of funky lighting created a sophisticated atmosphere. Lovey slid into the booth, settled, and began studying the Italian menu. It was only a few minutes before she spotted Jillian at the entrance. She waved eagerly at her and stood, and with a big smile Jillian hurried toward her.

“Lovey!” Jillian threw her arms around her friend and they hugged. Cold air clung to Jillian’s jacket and her cheek was chilled too as Lovey hugged her back.

“You look gorgeous!” Lovey drew back, smiling. “I like the new haircut.”

She’d seen photos on Facebook when Jillian got it done. They’d only seen each other in person a couple of times since college but kept in touch online.

“Thanks!”

Jillian unwrapped her scarf and pulled off her jacket, then hung it on a nearby coatrack along with Lovey’s. She took the seat across from her. “So this is awesome that you’re here in Chicago!”

“Yeah, I’m excited about it.”

“It was a snap decision, though, wasn’t it?”

“No!”

Jillian gave Lovey a knowing look. Yes, Jillian knew her and her impulsiveness well. “Well, yes.” Lovey sighed.

“You can tell me all about it over dinner,” Jillian said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to lecture you.”

“That’s good, because my brother is,” Lovey muttered. She picked up her menu again.

They ordered a bottle of wine to share, and sipped as they decided on food. “I don’t know what to have! The pizza looks amazing.”

“It’s great,” Jillian confirmed. “But then, so are the pastas.”

Lovey agonized over her choice, and eventually they agreed that Lovey would have pasta and Jillian would have pizza, and they’d share. Jillian chose a burnt pepperoni pizza, which she assured Lovey was fantastic, and Lovey ordered orecchiette with prosciutto, watercress, and Pecorino cheese.

“Tell me about your job,” Lovey invited once their orders had been taken. “How’s the beer company?”

Jillian grinned and fingered the stem of her wineglass. “It’s good! I love working there. I’m an associate brand manager right now, but I’m working on moving up to senior brand manager.”

They’d had some courses together in college, although they got different degrees, Jillian’s in Marketing, Lovey’s in Visual Communications, but Lovey’d ended up working in marketing too after she graduated. Jillian had landed a primo job with Moens Breweries in Chicago only a year after finishing school. Lovey had also done a Social Media certificate and had started working on some social media things for her former employer, Kleinheinz Cheese. Yes, she tweeted about cheese.

“So I thought you liked your cheese job,” Jillian said.

“I did like it.” Lovey looked down at the plate of food that had just been set in front of her. “I mean, it was okay. I just…the whole nine-to-five thing, having to do what other people tell me…it bugged me.”

“That’s what working for a living is.”

“I know.” Lovey gave her a crooked smile. “I didn’t quit just because of that. I broke up with Richard.”

“What happened?” Jillian’s eyes softened as she picked up her fork.

“He wanted to get married and have babies. Like, tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jillian’s eyes widened.

“He’s thirty-six,” Lovey continued. “I guess I should have known an older guy would be ready to settle down. It was fun at first…he’s a vice president at Kleinheinz, he’s financially stable, has a nice house…I felt all grown up dating him.”

Jillian smiled.

“But wow, he got serious really fast. It scared the crap out of me. I’m not ready to settle down and have babies!”

“No?”

“No.” Lovey tipped her head. “Are you?”

Jillian shrugged. “Maybe if I met the right guy.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” She made a face. “I was seeing a guy, not serious, we just went out a few times, but it fizzled.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Eh. It’s okay. I’m busy. I work long hours some days, and I have great friends. I’ll introduce you to them…we’ll have a welcome to Chicago girls’ night.”

“That would be awesome. Anyway, I didn’t feel I could stay working at Kleinheinz after we broke up. It was awkward.”

“So what are you going to do here? Are you looking for a job?”

“Actually, I’m looking for clients.” Lovey met her friend’s eyes. “I’m trying to start my own business.”

“Really? Cool!”

It was Lovey’s turn to make a face. “Yeah. I’m not making much money yet. So it’s kind of scary. But it’s what I really want to do.”

“Marketing?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s social media consulting. I was doing some of that for Kleinheinz and I really enjoyed it, but that wasn’t a full-time job for them. When I left, I offered them my consulting services and they agreed.”

“I guess you can do that kind of work from anywhere.”

“Yes, that’s right. Although one of my biggest prospective clients is here in Chicago. And I have a couple of other small companies that wanted to have a social media presence but didn’t have the resources to do it.”

“That’s great!”

Lovey nodded, a small swell of pleasure expanding inside her. “I hope I can make it work. I know I didn’t like the nine-to-five desk job, but the trade-off is less security, obviously. No steady paycheck every two weeks. I have some savings to keep me going for a while, but…well, living in Chicago is expensive.”

“You’re staying with your brother, right?”

“Yeah, thankfully. But he keeps saying I can’t stay there long.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m interfering with their wild bachelor lifestyle, apparently. However, he has agreed to let me move some of my things into his spare room, so he’s kind of accepted that I’m not moving into my own place next week.”

“Hmmm. If I hear of anyone looking for a roommate, I’ll let you know. Leigh and I have no room in our little apartment, unfortunately.”

“Ah, that’s okay, and thanks. A roommate would be a good idea. Unless I can convince Duncan to let me stay permanently.” She grinned. Living in that gorgeous condo would be nice, but even she had to admit that staying with her brother long-term was not going to work.

They chatted more through dinner and then walked to the arena in time to watch the pre-game skate.

“I’ve come to a couple of games here and watched from our suite,” Jillian said once they were in their seats right behind the Aces bench, with drinks in hand. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Oooh, a suite, yes.”

“Moens Breweries owns seventy percent of the team,” Jillian continued. “I have this idea for an ad campaign that would feature some of the players.”

“Hey, there’s Duncan.” Lovey pointed to her brother on the ice, then scanned the surface looking for Marc. She spotted him near the boards on the other side of the ice, no helmet, talking to another player. Guns N’ Roses blasted through the arena as fans began to fill the seats.

Jillian was interested in Lovey’s business. “What’s the name of your company?”

“Big Cheese Media.”

Jillian’s head whipped around and then she burst out laughing. “I love it!”

Lovey raised a shoulder, pleased by Jillian’s reaction. “Thanks. I made it myself.”

Jillian giggled. They chatted more about both their jobs and caught up on other news as the game got under way, then Lovey got wrapped up in the excitement. Jillian enjoyed hockey, but Lovey found herself explaining things to her, like why the Bruins got a delay of game penalty when one of their players shot the puck over the glass, and why Jared Rupp didn’t get to come out of the penalty box when the Bruins scored a minute and a half into a double minor for high sticking, and why it had been a four-minute penalty instead of two (because he’d drawn blood on the Bruin player’s face). This resulted in a second goal for the Bruins, and as the second period ended, the Aces were down three-one.

The vibrant atmosphere in the arena had been subdued by the two goals and Lovey pouted a little watching the players leave the ice. “Hopefully they’ll regroup,” she said. “There’s still time.”

“They haven’t been doing well lately,” Jillian noted. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

They were close to the exit and Lovey watched until she saw Marc leave the ice, and when he looked up as if he felt her gaze on him she lifted her hand in a little wave and smiled. She got no reaction. Her smile went crooked.

“Who’s that?” Jillian asked.

“Duncan’s roommate. Marc Dupuis.”

Jillian nodded.

“Their power play has sucked lately,” Lovey said with a sigh. “It really killed them.” Jared was probably beating himself up over that careless high stick. “Let’s get another beer.”

They were just leaving their seats when an announcement of Marc’s name made Lovey pause. She looked up at the score clock, where the picture was a bunch of kids waving and smiling, and listened.

“Every home game, Chicago Aces Captain Marc Dupuis invites kids from local hospitals to attend a game in Marc’s Magic Suite. Today joining us are eight youngsters from the University of Chicago Comer Children’s Hospital.” The kids waved more wildly. “The kids are treated to dinner in the suite and given goody bags, and after the game they’ll meet with Marc Dupuis for autographs and pictures. Please join us in welcoming these special guests.”

Lovey sucked in a breath, impressed. “Wow,” she said to Jillian. “I didn’t know he did that.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

They made their way to the concourse, found drinks, and stood amid the crowd sipping them and talking. Lovey caught the eye of a guy nearby who was watching them. He smiled. She gave him a small smile back, then broke eye contact, although in her peripheral vision she saw him say something to the other two dudes he was with and then they were all looking at her and Jillian.

“Do you know those guys over there?” Lovey asked her friend. “No, don’t look yet.”

Jillian grinned. “Where?”

“Three o’clock. Three good-looking dudes, all in jeans, nice sweaters. One has a short beard.”

Jillian shifted position casually, looked the other way as if studying the crowd, tossed her hair back, and looked toward the guys, her gaze skimming past them. “Nope. Don’t know them. But they’re cute.”

“Yeah. They were watching us.”

Jillian lifted an eyebrow and sipped her beer. “Hmmm.”

Lovey looked back at the guy whose eye she’d caught, made eye contact again, smiled, and looked away. It was only minutes later when the men approached. “You ladies here at the game alone?” one of them asked.

Lovey smiled. “We are.”

“Hockey fans?”

“I sure am.”

“Cool. Cheering for the Aces, I assume?”

Lovey sipped her beer. “What if I said I’m a Bruins fan?”

Jillian choked.

The guy grinned. “I’m open-minded. Someone as pretty as you can cheer for whoever you want.”

Lovey just shook her head. “Aw. Thank you. But I’m kidding. I’m definitely an Aces fan.”

The guys introduced themselves as Corey, Hakim, and Josh. They flirted a little until the third period was set to start.

“What are you doing after the game?” Corey asked Lovey. “Join us for a drink?”

Lovey tipped her head to one side. “I’m not sure. We might be meeting up with my brother and his friends after the game.” She sensed Jillian’s amusement. “I’m not sure where we’re going.”

“Here’s my number,” Corey said, handing her a card. “Let us know where you end up. Maybe we can all hang out.”

“Sure.” She took the card with a smile and tucked it into her pocket and she and Jillian returned to their seats.

“They’re nice,” Jillian said.

“I guess.” Flirting was fun, sure, so why did she keep thinking of taciturn Captain Codger?

And there he was, on the ice, ready for the opening face-off of the third period, his face intense behind his visor. She watched him take the face-off, legs spread so wide he was almost doing the splits, leaning on his stick so low to the ice. His stick flashed and he won the face-off, getting the puck to his winger. He immediately headed toward the net. Lovey bit her lip, eyes flicking from him to the play, back to him. He took a neat pass, still driving to the net, took a shot that rebounded off the goalie’s pads. It was handled by Duncan as Marc rounded to the back of the net. She recalled what he’d been saying earlier and she watched eagerly, edging forward in her seat as the puck flew from one stick to another, finally back to Marc, who came from behind the net. As if he had all the time in the world, he played with it a bit, stickhandling with his head up, watching the defense and the goalie, and with a sharp flick of his wrists the puck flew past the net minder and into the goal.

The crowd erupted as the horn blasted and Lovey and Jillian jumped to their feet along with everyone else. A wide smile crossed her face as she cheered and clapped. “DUDE!” she yelled, although Marc couldn’t hear. As he skated past the bench, smacking gloves with his teammates, she saw his smile, and holy cheese whiz, he had a gorgeous smile. Even with his mouth guard in, it was wide and dazzling. Wow. What would it feel like to have that smile directed at her?

She swore she caught his eye as he entered the player’s bench and she shivered a little.

For the rest of the game, he continued to lead by example, playing hard, hitting hard, skating hard. On his next shift, he fed the puck to Duncan for another goal, to tie the game.

Lovey jumped up and down, clapping. “Yay!”

Now the crowd was energized again, the atmosphere electric for the next face-off. Marc was on the bench and Lovey’s eyes were drawn to him, watching as a trainer toweled his visor off for him and helped him replace his helmet, then gave him a smack of encouragement on the shoulder. His back was to her but she could tell he was focused intently on the game. “One more, guys,” she muttered. “One more. Come on!”