Page 104 of Going All In

She laughed softly. “We are here to celebrate the win. We can’t bail now.”

He quirked a brow and tightened his arm around her waist. “You sure about that?”

“Behave,” she said, but her tone was breathy, and he knew it wouldn’t take much convincing to get her to leave early.

***

They spent thenext hour hanging out at the bar and driving each other crazy. She’d kiss him. He’d trail his hand down her spine. She’d tell him to knock it off in a sexy, growly tone. And he’d sip his beer like nothing was going on.

“You are supposed to be behaving,” she whispered while he traced circles over her palm with his thumb.

“I can’t restrain myself around you,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth and nipping the pad of her thumb. He didn’t miss her shiver and his cock hardened. As much as he wanted to get her out of the bar, the dim lighting and the corner they were standing in hid how much he needed her.

Of course, he could solve that issue if he stopped touching her and thought of something mind-numbingly boring like baseball or taxes, but he had no plans to take his hands off of her as long as she’d let him.

“Want to get out of here?” she finally asked.

He grinned. “Took you long enough.” He’d already closed out his tab and finished his last drink fifteen minutes ago. They’d both gone easy on the booze tonight. Even with all the taunts from Lydia and his teammates.

“Think it’s safe to leave Lydia here?” Darcy asked.

“She’ll be fine.”

“I’m more worried about the guys,” Darcy deadpanned, and he barked out a laugh.

“They’ll be fine too. Let’s get out of here before anyone notices,” he said, nudging her toward the door.

“Good night you two,” Lydia called out as Jake and Darcy reached the front door.

He didn’t turn around, just lifted his hand to wave over his shoulder.

“Who’s ready for body shots?” Lydia asked right before Darcy and Jake walked out of the bar, the heavy door swinging shut behind them.

“Freaking Lydia,” Darcy grumbled, and Jake laughed.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, ushering her toward his car.

She tilted her head up to look at him, desire shining bright as she raked her thumb over his palm. “Absolutely.”

He hurried her into his car and then they were heading back to his place. He loved that she hadn’t even blinked when he called it home.

***

A week later,Jake had the puck on his stick and was streaking down the ice toward Minnesota’s goalie. It was the final game of the regular season, and if the Strikers won tonight, they would be first in the division and have home ice advantage for the first round of the playoffs.

He was determined to make sure that happened, so when one of the opposing forwards tried to poke check the puck from him, Jake sent it flying across the ice to Cheesy. The captain battled with it in the corner, and Jake set himself up near the goalie, trying to create a screen so Cheesy could take his shot.

The goalie nudged him, but Jake stayed focused—and out of the blue paint—he would not get a penalty for goalie interference. He quickly scanned the ice to see what options his captain had and briefly made eye contact with Cheesy. There was no clear path, so Cheesy acted like he was going to one-time it into the back of the net but, instead, sent it to Harty. Harty spun with the puck on his stick and sent it toward the goalie’s glove side. It hit the pipe, and before the goalie could cover it, Jake tapped it into the back of the net.

The goal horn sounded and his teammates barreled into him as music pumped through the arena. Everyone was yelling and on their feet.

“Fucking right,” Harty called out, wrapping Jake in a hug. “On fucking fire tonight, man.”

Jake grinned and doled out hugs and helmet taps before they headed toward the bench. That was his second goal of the night, and he’d had an assist too. They were up four to two over Minnesota with five minutes left in the third period. He slid onto the bench, getting congratulatory taps from the coaching staff and a well-meaning slap on the shoulder from Bugsy.

“Great job out there,” the coach said.

He wished his family was in the stands to see how far he’d come compared to last year, but his mom hadn’t been able to get time off work—she’d promised to be here during at least one playoff game. But Darcy was in the stands. She’d blown him a kiss during warmups, and he couldn’t wait to actually press his lips to hers tonight.

The remaining five minutes flew by. Minnesota pulled their goalie with three minutes left, and Baz had scored an empty net goal thirty seconds later.

When the final buzzer sounded, the entire team streamed out onto the ice to celebrate and tap helmets with their goalie. He could barely hear the announcers calling out the stars of the game over the energized crowd. Eventually, he and his teammates raised their sticks to salute the crowd for their support over the long season, and Jake followed the rest of the guys down the tunnel.

He couldn’t wait to celebrate with them at C&B later—and especially with Darcy when he finally got her home.

---