Page 12 of Offside and Off-Limits
“I’m fine, Benny. Say goodbye to Mr. Lennox and come have a cupcake with Bailey.”
“But I want to get this comic book,” he whines.
“I’ll get it for you after,” I grind out.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Hey, great to meet you, Benny. And remember, Zara Kazan is the true hero of the series. Or rather, the true heroine,” Cade Lennox says to my son.
“Nah-uh. It’s Max Griffin. Everyone knows that,” Benny insists.
“Let’s go,” I say, and as I lead Benny to the table, I take a quick look back at the guy, only to see him smiling at me, his eyes lit up with playfulness like a string of fairy lights.
And my dang belly gives a little flip.
CHAPTER 4
CADE
I letthe hot water run down my back, washing away the pain in my side following my collision with Weston Smith out on the ice in our first ever team practice. He’s from the minors, the Tennessee Wolves to be precise, and the guy sure has something to prove, slamming me unnecessarily hard against the plexiglass during one of our plays.
At least I know he’ll be effective in defense when it comes to an actual game.
I rub myside. Yup,real effective.
It didn’t help that Coach Hauser had already put us through a bunch of bruising drills beforehand. Coach is tough, tougher than my last coach, who I was pretty sure had some kind of grudge against hockey players. But he got results.
This guy? I bet he’ll get them, too.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a group of players all wanting to make their mark on the newest team in the League. And I count myself in that equation.
One thing I can say is it’s great to have my former Blades team captain leading us. Jamie Hayes always sets the tone for the team: work hard and have each other’s backs out on the ice, no matter what. I know how he ticks, what he expects from his men, and I’m here for it, one hundred percent.
I picture the other guys in the team as I wash the sweat from my hair.
Carson Crane, nicknamed “Bama” because he originates from the state, has talent sparking off of him out on the ice. I’ve come up against him a bunch of times on the Blades, and the guy has killer instincts on the ice. He’ll be a good teammate, and much better on my team than against me.
Canadian Asher Tremblay has an ever-present smile, Asher’s easy to get along with, and he’s taken me up on my open invitation to the guys to lift weights in my fully equipped garage gym later this week. He seems like the kind of guy I could click with, and it’d be good to make a friend in this new town.
Defenseman Lucian Lowe is quiet and a little intense, and I know it’ll take a while to get to know him. But he seems like a good guy, and he’s an excellent player, one I’m more than happy to have on the team. He’s different than his counterpart, Weston Smith, who, when he’s not smashing me against the boards, loves to crack a joke, and with a bunch of jocks, there’s always an opportunity for humor.
Then there’s that French guy, Clément Rivière, nicknamed Frenchie for obvious reasons. Of course, I know him by reputationfrom his time on the Les Lions de Paris team where he made his mark, and he sure comes across as your stereotypical French guy, all suave and dramatic with his accented English.
My mind turns to the perky blonde with the pretty blue eyes in her jeans and white T-shirt I met over the comics in the bookstore on Main Street. She had on a long gray cardigan that reached down to her knees, skimming her womanly figure. And what a figure. Slim but nowhere near skinny, with rounded hips and curves where they’re meant to be.
Hey, I’m a guy. I noticed.
She had a practically makeup-free face but for something glossy on her lips, her blonde shoulder-length hair in soft waves.
In a world full of puck bunnies, I'm not used to meeting women who aren't fully made-up, without a hair out of place, their assets on full display.
Clara Johnson was…refreshing. Yeah, refreshing is the word. Refreshing and totally hot.
And it was as clear as day that she had next to zero interest in me. In fact, the way she grabbed a hold of her son when she first arrived told me she thought I was some kind of weird predator with an ulterior motive.
I’ll admit, while I was checking her out, my eyes did flick briefly to her left hand, and you know what? No ring. That’s right, I “ma’amed” a single mom who’s probably only about my age. Nah, scrub that. I “ma’amed” ahotsingle mom who’s probably only about my age.
