Page 44 of Power Play with My Brother's Irish Friends

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DUNCAN

No one else seemed to notice that Miranda had walked in with Patrick before the game. I’d spotted her darting away from him when the locker room door opened but kept my mouth shut until I had a chance to talk directly to Patrick.

After that display on the ice, I didn’t need to hear him confirm that Patrick had the same thing in mind since hearing Miranda was coming to Washington. He planned on pulling out all the stops to see if she was interested. Fine. Game on. I’d never gone head to head with Patrick over a woman. Never thought it was something that would be an issue.

Austin skated past me, motioning for me to follow. I struggled to keep my head in the game after my revelation. My thoughts tangled up around Miranda and the potential future I felt slipping between my fingers with Patrick’s interference.

I scanned the crowd as I made my way around the rink. Miranda’s whistle drew my head up and back until I spotted her sitting beside the penalty box. She caught me looking and raised both hands in dual thumbs-ups. I grinned back at her through my helmet and spun to keep an opponent from colliding into my side. The move sent the guy spinning out of control, and he crashed into the wall with a thud that brought out the cheek-pinching smile I’d started to miss.

I knew what to do. The thought hit and I put it into action. I lengthened my stride and flew across the ice, my body digging deep into that space where I found familiarity and comfort.

The guy who’d hit the wall came for me…as I’d hoped and expected. I bared my teeth and ducked. He saw and recognized my signature move too late. One second he was on his feet, the next flying through the air and landing flat of his back. I spun in a spray of ice and performed the move a second time on his teammate when he came up behind me, hoping to catch me off guard. This was the man I’d left behind under Miranda’s tutelage. This was the man I had to become again to gain the opportunity to talk to her before Patrick had another chance.

“Easy, Duncan.” Charlie spun past me. His frown widened my grin. “Thought we were over this shit.”

“Nah.” I started toward the penalty box as the whistle blew and the ref shouted at me. His voice rang out muted and distant. I’d stopped listening or caring what he had to say.

Coach shook his head, but I’d already moved on from his disappointment to find Miranda. She stood with her arms crossed, a petulant frown dragging her lips down into a pout I wished I could kiss away.

I’d heard Austin loud and clear the other night. Miranda had been hurt. She needed time and space. I’d give her both, but I had a chance and I’d be damned if I sat by and watched it slip through my fingers.

Austin slapped me on the back in passing. “Thanks for the backup.” He motioned at the guys I’d waylaid with my power move. “I was afraid no one saw them coming.”

I returned the gesture and stepped off the ice. I’d seen the bastards going after my team, which was part of the reason I’d taken them out. It was the way I’d taken them down that put me in the box beside Miranda. The old saying about killing two birds with one stone came to mind. I’d managed to help my team and myself with the same move and no one was the wiser.

Except maybe Miranda. She watched my approach with that frown firmly in place. “You did that on purpose.”

“Can’t prove it.” I shuffled sideways into the penalty box and dropped onto the bench. “What do you think of the game?”

She leaned her shoulder against the partition and cocked an eyebrow. “I think you can win, but you’re getting egotistical and falling back on old tactics that are going to get you in trouble.”

“You think so?” I leaned closer to her, not bothering to stand because that would put us too close together and I didn’t quite trust myself to be that close and not give in to the need to touch her. “What should we do about that?”

“You should remember what I taught you.” The frown line deepened. “I didn’t put in all that work for it to fall apart.”

“I’ll work on it.” The itch of sweat on my scalp turned excruciating, and I dug my fingers into my hair after setting my helmet beside me.

Miranda huffed a dry laugh. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Not sure. You should believe me. I always make good on my promises.” I needed her to hear and understand that. I’d give her the world. Once I gave my word, that was it. Which was why I’d never verbally agreed to Austin’s demand that we leave Miranda alone.

The game played out in a series of groans and shouts from the players and the crowd. Miranda shifted from watching me to checking the scoreboard. “They’ve been practicing. If you all went in there thinking this was an easy win, you messed up.”

I shrugged to keep from telling her we’d thought that exact thing. These guys were chumps last season. Joke was on us as they’d kept us on our toes the entire game. The scoreboard clicked down the time, each minute pushing me to hurry up and act on my feelings. “How long are you in town?”

“Not sure.” She threw the words back at me with a smirk, twisted her fingers together, then shoved both hands into her pants pockets. The suits I’d become used to made her stand out amid the crowd wearing jerseys in our team colors, their painted faces creating a garish backdrop against her creamy complexion and navy attire. Slim shoulders rose in a shrug, and a hint of mischief lit her gray eyes. “Why?”

“Oh, no real reason.” My attention slipped back and forth from her to the game. Austin scored another goal, and I joined Miranda in cheering them on. Once the other team gained control of the puck, I picked up the conversation. “I wondered if you’d like to have dinner with me.” I winked. “I need a refresher on why it’s important I drop my bad boy act and be presentable to the masses.” When she rolled her eyes, I pushed the real reason out between us. “And I am desperate to spend time with you. Alone.”

Her lips rounded into that perfect O, her posture relaxing as she looked me over in a slow caress that did wonderful things for my ego and my emotional state. An adorable blush stained her cheeks, turning them into a dusky rose color that brought up a mass of memories of our time together. Her hands twisted inside her pockets, a quiet uncertainty causing a flustered look to flitter over her face before she regained control. “I’d like that, Duncan.”

“Good.” I stood and made my way over to the wall, propping my hand on the space closest to her head and leaning in. The sturdy plexiglass kept us apart, but I had nothing left to lose and a desperate need to be closer urging me on.

Coach had never been the kind of guy who stayed inside the penalty box once I’d been thrown in. Thank god or this conversation would’ve ended before I had a chance to say a word. He eyed me from the bench where the rest of the players sat in hopeful expectation of getting a few seconds on the ice. Another roar from the rink, followed by Coach clapping, told me we’d scored again. We fought to keep our opponents from catching up, but they’d started taking advantage of my absence and turned vicious. A whistle blew and the bastard I’d thrown into the wall skated to the penalty box across from me. He pounded his gloved fists on the glass, then jabbed a finger toward Austin while staring at me, the threat clear when he grinned and slashed a hand across his neck. He intended to take Austin out.

Fuck. “Let me back in, Ref.” I shouted at the man gliding past me, his black and white striped shirt flapping in the breeze.

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