Page 23 of Puck You Very Much

Nothing less—and definitely nothing more.

Chapter 7

“She’slooking after you?Really? Oh God, telling me that was a mistake.” Matt laughed loud enough for the other players in line next to them to glance over. They were at one end of the rink, waiting their turn on the speed course that one of the assistant coaches had set up. Unfortunately, the acoustics in the arena were ridiculously good and players quickly got bored waiting.

“What’s so funny?” Fox asked as he skated over.

Matt grinned broadly. It didn’t matter how many warning looks Dax gave his friend. Not even a hail of meteorites could have stopped him from saying his next words. “Our sweet little rascal here has caused too much chaos over the past few months, so management is rewarding him with Lucy as a babysitter to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

For a few seconds, Fox stared at him in disbelief. Then he grinned so wide that two fists could have fit in his mouth. Dax knew because he was considering sinking his into the captain’s face.

“She’s my personal image consultant,” he growled…but who was he kidding? It was merely a fancy word for babysitter.

Fox seemed to realize this because he was laughing loudly now. “Fuck, poor Lucy. It doesn’t seem fair that she should have to pay for your sins.”

He stared at Fox in disbelief. Oh please, Lucy was much better equipped, not to mention more dangerous than he could ever be! She could bring entire nations to their knees with one angry look. Although, at the moment, it was her shocked and confused expression that was haunting Dax’s mind.

Shit, the way she looked at him when she found out Jack was his brother…like he’d just announced he was actually a woman.

Dax knew she was right to be shocked. It was a miracle that no one had found out that he and Jack were brothers. But they had gone to different schools, had never invited people to their house—for good reason—and had always kept to themselves. Jack also had his father’s last name. Even back then, hardly anyone knew that Dax even had siblings. And when Jack became famous, he claimed in his first TV interview that he was an only child. Probably because he wanted to put his past behind him. Dax didn’t enter the NHL until five years later—he couldn’t leave home until Anna was squared safely away at college—and hadn’t felt the need to correct him then. Ultimately their mother died, and their fathers didn’t want anything to do with them, anyway…and suddenly there was no one but themselves and Anna who might have spilled the unintentional secret.

And now Lucy.

His gaze automatically shifted to the right, into the stands where the PR consultant was sitting in the bottom row with a blanket over her legs and a laptop on her lap. In his opinion, she took her job of not losing sight of him a little too seriously, but hey, if she wanted to freeze her ass off that was her choice.

You think I’m a bad person.

Man, she had said a lot of nonsense, and he didn’t like it. She had been too surprised that he respected her.

Could it be that he’d gone a bit overboard when he was teasing her over the last few months…and Lucy was more vulnerable than he’d thought?

No. No way. Or…was she really?

He shook his head, annoyed by his thoughts. No. Ridiculous. She was an invincible rock, and she couldn’t care less about him. She wouldn’t let him or his stupid remarks influence her.

“She’ll survive the next few weeks,” he replied dryly. “You should be worried about me. I’m officially forbidden from picking up women.”

Matt grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “A little celibacy never hurt anyone. Maybe then you’ll think about the important things in life again.”

“Like how to hurt you when you say things like that?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” Leon interrupted, turning around from his spot in line in front of them. “About Jack? Because Christ, that guy is killing me.” He nodded over his shoulder toward the course.

“No, we’re talking about Lucy,” Fox clarified and then paused to peer past Leon at the ice. “Shit, West is fast,” he muttered, impressed.

Dax turned his head just in time to see Jack blowing by the obstacles as if they weren’t there.

“Hey, he’s got the same footwork as you, Temple,” Leon said, watching Jack’s feet, which, like the puck he was pushing in front of him, were black streaks on the ice. “Must have copied you.”

Dax gritted his teeth. It was the other way around. He copied his brother’s footwork. When they were kids, Jack had shown him how to push the blades of the skates outward in order to be able to brake harder and take turns more sharply. Jack had taught him how to protect the puck from the opponent with his feet. Jack had corrected his posture, stolen his first hockey stick for him, and taught him how to use his elbows to move faster across the ice. Jack had shown him pretty much everything he knew about hockey. His brother was only three years older but had been a little genius on the ice by the age of ten. He was the reason Dax had gotten this far in the first place.

And Dax hated it.

He hated that he owed him so much when all he wanted to do was be angry with him. But the ice had been Jack’s refuge first, and then he’d invited Dax to share it with him.

“Fuck, with him, we actually have a chance at the Cup this year,” Matt said happily.

“Yep,” Fox agreed.

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