Page 3 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
He’s just a hockey player. Just a man.
No big deal.
But it is a big deal. He’s Kodie fucking Rivers.
Gritting my teeth, I do my best to stuff down the excitable hormonal teenage girl who seems to pop up every time I’m anywhere near him and focus on the task at hand.
Noticing movement in his direction, Dad looks up. The second he discovers it’s me, his entire face lights up.
“Care Bear,” he mouths, making my cheeks burn red.
I’m not sure I’ll ever truly feel like an adult when I’m in my father’s company. Somehow, no matter how old I am or what I’ve managed to achieve, I still feel like a little girl.
I continue around the rink, and I’ve almost reached him when two players slam into the plexiglass beside me. A startled shriek rips from my lips as I twist around to see who it is.
My breath catches, my heart racing even faster when I lock onto a pair of mesmerizing dark brown eyes that I’d know anywhere.
I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone completely dry.
Never before have I been this girl. I’ve been surrounded by hot hockey boys all my life. Sure, I’ve crushed on a few, but none of them have caused the kind of reaction that Kodie Rivers does.
It should be illegal.
As much as I’d love for him to look excited to see me, the only expression on his face is one of irritation. I guess that’s understandable when you’ve just been body checked by a teammate.
I have no idea if he recognizes me—I pray that he does, but I can understand that I’m probably not as big a part of his life as he is mine. He gives me a curt nod of acknowledgement, and that alone is enough to cause a riot of butterflies in my stomach.
Get a fucking grip, Casey.
I force myself to look away and at the much more amused-looking man behind him.
Lincoln Storm.
Now, if there was a player who would probably throw caution to the wind and be willing to hook up with the coach’s daughter, it would be Linc.
He’s been a Viper since his rookie year. He’s a great player…in both senses of the word. He works hard and he plays harder.
The opposite of Kodie, who lives a much quieter life.
Linc smirks at me in accomplishment, and a beat before he releases Kodie, he winks. That should be the move to give me butterflies, but nope. There are none for him.
A deep growl fills the air as a shadow falls over me.
“Eyes off my daughter, Storm.” The warning in Dad’s voice makes my stomach knot. I risk glancing over and find Dad glaring daggers at one of his best players. “Drop and give me fifty,” he commands.
Knowing he’s fucked up, Linc instantly pushes back and drops to his hands on the ice.
Dad watches him for a few seconds, but once he’s happy he’s driven off any potential suitors, he turns to me with a soft smile playing on his lips.
“You’re an angel,” he says, his voice suddenly softer and calmer.
“It’s not like it’s out of my way,” I tease, looking up at him and smiling.
Sure, he has a few more wrinkles and a couple of gray hairs at his temples these days, but James Watson is still a very good-looking man. I can’t blame women for acting the way they do around him.
“Even still. Appreciate it, kiddo.”
Linc finishes his punishment and he and Kodie take off across the ice again to join the rest of the team, who are watching with amused expressions.
