But I have to say Frank has shown a maturity that I didn't think he had, and I believe he's come to realize that if he wants to ascend to the position of GM either here or with another organization, he has to politic his way there. The other reason I'm not worried about it is because Ryker was and still is the hottest goalie in the league.
And that's not just personal bias I'm spouting.
He's retained the league lead for highest save percentage and he's a shoo-in for another Vezina Trophy. The Cold Fury organization will pay good money to keep him on this team, and he will be worth every penny.
Eleven seconds.
With Chicago on the power play, the tension in the arena is thick. The puck is being passed about in Ryker's territory, center to left winger, back to center, over to the right winger, across the crease to the left winger, who winds up and sends a blistering slap shot at Ryker. He catches it neatly in his glove with only 3.7 seconds left.
I think I may pass out from lack of oxygen.
I think they may find my unconscious body here in the tunnel when they bring the Cup through for the celebration laps.
The puck is brought back to the face-off circle, no more than twenty feet to Ryker's left. Alex Crossman lines up for the drop. Ryker puts his massive frame squared to the net, balancing lightly on his skates to keep his lightning-fast reflexes accessible. The ref takes his position, holding the puck in the air between the two face-off contenders.
The biscuit drops, and the second it hits the ice and the players start scrabbling for possession, the clock starts its countdown. Every person save one in this arena follows the puck with hungry eyes.
Every person but me.
I watch Ryker because I want to see the moment when he gets his championship, proving to himself and the world that the Brick Wall still has it. I want to see the light in his eyes and the smile on his face, and I want to revel in his happiness.
The horn blows to signify the clock has reached zero and en masse, the Cold Fury team swarms the ice. The fans go berserk, nearly blowing off the roof of the arena with the screams, whistles, claps, and hurrahs. Ryker throws his glove and stick to the ice, skates to the center, and meets his team, where half of them go down into a pile of arms and legs.
There's hugs, backslaps, stick slaps, helmet bumps. Three of the players pick up Pretore and carry him out onto the ice. Zack and Ryker take a moment to celebrate together with a hard hug--well, as hard as you can get with all of those pads on. They're then joined by Alex and Garrett, and I have to smile to see that core group of guys celebrating a Cup win together.
Since we came out of the closet, we all hang out together. Me, Ryker, Alex, Sutton, Garrett, Olivia, Zack, and Kate. Add in Violet, Ruby, and Ben, and we have quite the hootenanny when we congregate. I think Alex and Garrett were a tiny bit intimidated by me the first time we all went out, but then they realized that outside the walls of that arena, when I'm out with my man, I'm just plain Gray Brannon...a woman in love and all that shit.
I have to move aside for a few moments as arena attendants roll out a huge red carpet from the tunnel onto the ice so the executives making their way down to accept the trophy stand steady. I look behind me and I see the two Hall of Fame attendants that travel with the Cup moving it into the tunnel on a rolling cart.
I feel his eyes on me, that's how much of a connection I have to him. I turn to the ice and Ryker breaks away from his buds to skate over to me. I step to the edge of the rink, the toes of my shoes just hanging over the lip. He comes to a smooth stop right before me and holds a hand out. I step down onto the edge of the red carpet and look up at him.
Way, way up at him, because this six-foot-six man grows by about three inches in his skates. He pulls his mask off and drops it to the ice. I glance down at it, barely able to contain the smile. He had the design altered last month by adding another holographic heart to the side with my name. He added it right after he asked me to marry him and I said no.
Well, in fairness I didn't say no. I just said "let's not discuss it right now." We had just way too much going on at the time. We were dealing with the fallout from Claude's attack on me and my retaining the GM position after the board vote. Even though the executive team had approved it, some members of the public did not think I needed to stay. We were just starting the playoffs and I didn't want there to be any distraction to Ryker. To me. To the team. Take your pick.
So Ryker had that heart added and told me, "You're going to say yes, so I went ahead and added you to my mask."
And that was that.
And he's right. I'm going to say yes. It's just I wanted time for things to settle down and for me to ease into my new position in Ryker's life. But perhaps the biggest reason I wanted just a little more time was in deference to Hensley. Ryker thought I was nuts, but I really didn't want to rub our relationship in her face. While I wasn't going to take a backseat, I felt it might be a little too soon with him just having received the final divorce papers a few weeks before. I wanted Hensley to have time to settle as well.
As it stands, Hensley has accepted things the way they are. She's moved into her new home here in Raleigh and Ryker has voluntarily given her more visitation with the girls. She lives so close, in fact, the girls stay one week with her and one week with Ryker.
I still have my own house even though Ryker has asked me to move in. I just can't do it...not until we're married. And that's completely in deference to the girls. I want it to be official before I become ingrained so permanently into their lives. I want my new title of stepmom to have meaning, not only to me but to the girls as well.
Who are fucking terrific, by the way.
Who would have known that I would be such a natural with kids? My dad says he knew it all along, but damn if I did. But it's true...I've become very close to Violet and Ruby, and that's merely a product of me spending so much time with their dad. I believe they've truly come to care for me, and even though they're only five and seven, I believe they are intuitive little creatures and they know I make their dad happy, thus that makes them happy.
So it appears that everything is wrapping up tidily. Claude is in jail awaiting trial; I'm the general manager of the Cold Fury; I'm in love with a wonderful man who has wonderful children; and we just won the Stanley Cup championship. I suppose there's only one more thing that could make this night better.
Ryker picks me up, his strong arms going around my waist, and raises me up so I can kiss him. I wrap my arms around his sweaty neck, and I give him the kiss of a lifetime.
"Whatcha thinking about?" he asks me as he lets my body slide back down to the carpeted ice, but keeping our fingers locked together.
"About marrying you," I tell him simply.
"So now you're ready?" he asks skeptically.
"Hey," I say with a bit of a whine. "I've always been ready. I just didn't think the world was ready for us. But now it is."
"In that case," Ryker says as he drops down on one knee in front of me. It makes me just slightly taller than him.
I'm quite sure a good chunk of the fans are watching us. That may even account for a rise in the cheers right now as the team still skates around the ice congratulating each other while we wait for the formal presentation of the Cup. But none of that matters.
It's just me and Ryker...his eyes latched to mine.
"Gray Analise Brannon...will you do me the honor of getting on a plane with me this weekend and flying to Vegas to become my lawfully wedded wife?"
I giggle and put my hands on his shoulders. I lean in and give him a kiss and the crowd roars, so now I know they are definitely watching what's going on.
"Ryker No Middle Name Evans," I tell him with a grin. "I would be honored to get on a plane and fly with you this weekend to Vegas to become your lawfully wedded wife as long as we can bring Ruby and Violet with us."
His eyebrows raise sky high. "Are you serious? I was just joking about the Vegas part."
"Sure, why not?" I say with a shrug of m
y shoulders.
"Because you're Gray Brannon, heir to a hockey empire and a princess in her own right. Shouldn't there be like a huge white dress, fourteen bridesmaids, and something like twenty thousand dollars in white roses and canapes?"
"For some women, I guess. But I'm pretty good with us just being casual about it."
"At the least, your dad needs to come too," he says.
"And it would be nice to have the gang as well," I add, referencing my new posse of friends that come courtesy of Ryker.
"So maybe we can do it in a few weeks with a bit of planning," he says.
"I can't believe we're having this discussion on the ice of the arena with the Stanley Cup being wheeled out at this moment," I tell him as I cut my eyes over to the attendants as they bring it out.
Ryker pushes up off the ground, arms around my waist, and picks me back up again. He kisses me this time deeply, and when he puts me back down, he says, "We'll plan it out tonight, okay?"
"Okay," I say with a grin. "Now go hang with your team so you can accept the trophy."
Ryker grabs my hand and pulls me along the red carpet toward the Cup as he skates beside me. "Um...last I heard, you're part of this team too. Cup is as much yours as it is mine."
Oh, yeah...I guess that's true. But you know, when you get caught up in the glory and romance of a man dropping to his knee in front of thousands of people to discuss marriage, little things like a national hockey championship take a bit of a backseat.
When I reach the Cup, I find my father and Frank Lessier there along with the league president. Ryker bends down, kisses me on the cheek, and releases my hand. "I love you, Gray."
"I love you," I tell him.
He starts skating backward to where the team is congregated. I feel my dad's arm go around my shoulders as he steps up beside me. Ryker points a finger at me and grins as he pulls further away. "Tonight. Me. You. Wedding planning."
I feel my dad jerk, startled over that pronouncement, so I just mutter under my breath, "I'll fill you in later, Dad."
"I think I got the gist of it," he mutters back. "Please tell me you're going to Vegas."
I start laughing and he pulls me closer into him. We watch as first Alex takes the Cup from the attendant. It's tradition in the league that the team captain takes the first victory lap with it. But that tradition has been broken a few times over the years, and as Alex skates up to Ryker, I get tears in my eyes as I realize our captain is deciding to break tradition tonight. He hands the cup to Ryker as the best goalie in the league and the man who inspired the players to come together as a cohesive unit, which made it possible for them to have this victory.
Ryker nods solemnly at Alex and accepts the Cup. He hoists it in the air, holds it there a moment, then brings it down to his mouth where he places a kiss upon its shiny surface. He then starts a wide circle around the ice, holding the cup up high over his head. The fans scream his name and his teammates all bang their sticks on the ice in recognition of his leadership.
I watch him...the man I love with all of my heart, getting the recognition and vindication that is long overdue from his teammates and the fans. In this moment, I don't know that I could ever be happier for him.
In this moment, Ryker Evans is getting everything that a good man deserves.
Acknowledgments
Denise Sprung, thank you for helping me envision all that is Ryker. He would have never come to fruition without your support and amazing ideas.
Sue Grimshaw, this isn't my first acknowledgment of your greatness, nor will it be my last. Thank you so much for everything you do for me.
This acknowledgment comes on the heels of my beloved Penguins going down hard to Denise's team, the New York Rangers, in the first round of the playoffs. I'm still slightly bitter but thankful Denise isn't the type to rub my face in it too hard.
Oh, and not that he'll ever read this acknowledgment, but ladies, Ryker Evans was totally modeled after who I believe is the best-looking man in hockey. If you need the visual, go google Henrik Lundqvist. You will not be sorry.
BY SAWYER BENNETT
Cold Fury Hockey Series
Alex
Garrett
Zack
Ryker
The Off Series
Off Sides
Off Limits
Off the Record
Off Course
Off Chance
Off Season
Off Duty
The Last Call Series
On the Rocks
Make It a Double
Sugar on the Edge
With a Twist
Shaken Not Stirred
The Legal Affairs Series
Objection
Stipulation
Violation
Mitigation
Reparation
Affirmation
Confessions of a Litigation God
Clash
Grind
Yield
The Forever Land Chronicles
Forever Young
Stand-Alone Titles
If I Return
Uncivilized
PHOTO: MARIE KILLEN
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author SAWYER BENNETT is a snarky southern woman and reformed trial lawyer who decided to finally start putting on paper all the stories that were floating in her head. Her husband works for a Fortune 100 company that lets him fly all over the world while she stays at home with their daughter and three big, furry dogs who hog the bed. Bennett would like to report that she doesn't have many weaknesses, but can be bribed with a nominal amount of milk chocolate.
sawyerbennett.com
Facebook.com/BennettBooks
@BennettBooks
The Editor's Corner
As the seasonal colors change with the leaves on the trees, so does our lineup of new Loveswept romances...and we're sure you'll love them all!
Adore MC romances? You'll love Rachael Johns's, Fire Me Up. Sports fans won't want to miss New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett's Cold Fury Hockey series continuing with Ryker and debut author Sophia Henry introduces her Pilot's Hockey series with Delayed Penalty. Then it's off the ice with Samantha Kane's new NFL title, Broken Play. Baseball fans everywhere will want the next in the Boys of Summer series by Katie Rose, The Heat of the Moment, while readers who devour MMA stories will go for Loveswept debut author Sarah Robinson's Breaking a Legend. And if your taste for fighters is not squelched just yet, Raven by Suzanne Ashley has a twist that will shock you and yet melt your heart--prepare yourself for an emotional ride.
For those sports enthusiasts who take to the slopes, Extreme Risk's next installment, Slashed, by New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff is here! Fabulously fun and flirty author Cassie Mae begins a new series, All About Love, that will have you laughing out loud, then sniffling, maybe both at the same time with the first book, Doing It for Love. Lastly, a sexy regency historical novella from Lavinia Kent, part of her Bound and Determined series, Sarah's Surrender.
All affordably priced and found wherever eBooks are sold, Loveswepts are stories you'll always remember and that can be easily stored on your digital shelves to be read over and over again. Until next time...
Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
Delayed Penalty
by Sophia Henry
Available from Flirt
Chapter 1
When you're twenty years old, there's nothing music and a drink can't cure.
At least that was my best friend's response when I told her I'd been cut from Central State's women's soccer team that morning.
The overzealous stylings of two drunk chicks bellowing "It's Raining Men" wafted through the air, and I'd just received my vodka club from the bartender, so why did it still feel like someone scratched my heart out with a serrated shovel?
Maybe "It's Raining Men" wasn't the right song?
Or mayb
e my friend's remedy lacked one vital piece. Like, five minutes locked in a bathroom stall with the crazy-haired hottie approaching me. His head was buzzed short on the sides, leaving a thick patch of dark locks, gelled into a neat pompadour in front. Sort of like 1920s gangster, except less slicked, more height.
Every muscle in Crazy Hair's body rippled under his clothing as he walked. He had to be over six feet tall, with a broad chest and massive arms stretching the seams of his long-sleeved black Henley. His skin was smooth and pale, a contrast to the thick dark eyebrows resting above his jump-in-and-drown-in-me blue eyes. From the scar on his left cheek to the smug smirk of his lips, he was exactly my type: dangerous, confident, and totally lickable.
I flipped my long blond hair behind my shoulder and glanced to my left, pretending Crazy Hair's advance had no effect on me. In reality, I'd checked to make sure that he wouldn't pass me up on the way to some beautiful bombshell I hadn't noticed standing in the vicinity.
Like when you see someone wave, so you wave back. Then you realize they weren't waving at you but at the person behind you. So you try to play off your lame wave like you were batting away mosquitoes, which aren't there because it's December in Canada. Just trying to avoid an awkward situation like that.
Crazy Hair continued to close in, before stopping just inches away.
I'd opened my mouth to ream him out for stepping too far into my personal space, but the sweet scent of clove cigarettes flooded warmth through me like a sip of hot chocolate on a January morning in the Upper Peninsula.
"You work at post office?" he asked in a thick Slavic accent.
"Um, no." I took a swig of my drink. Though I was unsure where he was going with that line, he was hot enough for me to stick around.
The left corner of his mouth curved into that sexy little smirk. "Because I see you check out my package."