walks into Sawyer Anderson’s bar in her sexiest dress, she’s not thinking that he’s her brother’s best friend or about the many women he dated during his years as a pro hockey player. All she’s thinking is that it’s finally time to confess to her longtime crush how she truly feels.
“Now go out there and show them up,” Ethan said, pushing her out the player’s bench door without warning. Jill’s skates went out from under her and she fell on her butt.
Her brother laughed. “You wanna play with the big boys, Shortstop. You gotta get rid of the girlie skates.”
“Ouch, looks like that hurt. You might want to sit this one out, Shortstop,” Sawyer said, leaning on his stick as he watched her struggling to get up. His mouth twitched with amusement.
“Don’t let them intimidate you, Jill. I’ve got your back,” Brad said, slapping at her brother’s stick with his.
“Thanks,” she said and took her place across from Sawyer. He grinned down at her. She scowled up at him. “You won’t be smiling once we–”
Five blondes wearing short skirts and white T-shirts with Sawyer’s face covering their boobs, drowned Jill out as they shook their pom poms yelling, “Go, Sawyer. Go, Sawyer. Go, Sawyer.”
Jill rolled her eyes. “They’re a little underdressed, don’t you think?”
He glanced at them and lifted a padded shoulder. “It’s May. Arena’s warm.”
Seeing him look their way, the women cheered louder and shook their pom poms harder. Sawyer gave them a sexy smile and waved.
On top of Jack’s and Sawyer’s teasing, the women and his flirty response set off Jill’s temper. “Ref, you should be calling him for delay of game,” she said to the kid with the puck in his hand. It was Trent Dawson. One of Sawyer’s star players and his manager’s son.
Sawyer laughed. “Good try, Shortstop.”
Jill ignored him and got in position, casting a sidelong glance at Trent. Just as he was about to drop the puck, she said, “I don’t flipping believe it. They’re flashing their boobs!”
Sawyer lifted his head to look at the same time Trent released the puck. Jill got the drop on Sawyer, shooting the puck to Brad.
“You always did play dirty,” Sawyer said, laughing as he whizzed past her.
Within seconds, he’d wrested the puck from Brad and was heading back into their end with breathtaking speed.
“The only way to win this game is take Anderson out,” Brad said with a determined look on his face as he skated past her.
Wait? What? “No, Brad, you . . .” She started to call after him, but he was already heading for Sawyer. No matter how much she wanted to win–not only to make a point to her brother and Sawyer, but to get in Gage’s good graces–she had to stop Brad. Another concussion could cause Sawyer irreparable damage. She skated as if his life depended on it. Sawyer was at the hash mark, Brad a foot behind him. She launched herself at Brad, putting an arm behind him to protect his head as they fell. Her breath came out on a whoosh as she landed hard on her teammate, releasing a pained groan when her chin hit the ice.
The crowd roared. Sawyer had scored the winning goal.