Ryker

  I ignore the question and weird nickname, giving him a tight smile while I place my hands on his hips. The warmth of his body through the waistband of his athletic shorts feels really good against my palms. Standing this close to him, I notice he smells really good too. Like eucalyptus and maybe peppermint. Squeezing slightly to bring his focus to my instructions, I tell him, "Make sure you stay centered here...in your hips."

  "Centered. Got it."

  "Slide your left leg out," I tell him as I give him a nudge on his calf with my bare foot.

  And oh my God...totally inappropriate.

  I can't see his face from where I stand behind him, but I can actually feel amusement vibrating off his body. His leg slides out as directed, and he points his toes outward properly and without my instruction. I lean to the side and look in the mirror, finding him watching Melissa as a guide.

  I move my left hand up his ribs, which is totally unnecessary on my part, to his back, where I feel his muscles twitch, and finally to his shoulder. "Now gently, start your lean bringing your left hand down and pointing your right arm up. The goal is to grasp your ankle but go as far as you can."

  Ryker takes that as a challenge because he gives a tiny snort and, not really to my surprise because he is a goalie after all, manages to lean all the way over and grab his ankle.

  I stay with Ryker for the rest of the class as Melissa leads us from the front of the room. He doesn't really need my help, but I give it to him anyway. Finally, somewhere between the Noose pose and the Standing Split pose, I stop berating myself for touching him. Instead, I just give in to it and feel him up under the guise of a concerned yoga instructor. I think I'm being pretty surreptitious too, but as I step around to his front to help him get into Warrior pose, I make the mistake of looking up to his face. I'm tall for a woman, topping in at five nine, but I still have to crane my neck a bit, and the breath is knocked out of my lungs when I see him looking down at me. His eyes are turbulent, swirling with intensity. It borders on a glare, but not quite. His jaw is clenched and he in no way looks relaxed.

  Ryker is a man on edge about something.

  And it hits me all at once...my touch was affecting him.

  Apparently as much as it was affecting me.

  I immediately falter, my entire ego deflating into a flat, blobby mess. Rather than suffuse me with a feeling of power, the emotional magnitude in his eyes causes me to doubt everything I've ever known about myself. Ryker emanates such command in that look that I become absolutely unsure of myself.

  I feel like a little girl playing at a woman's game.

  Taking a step back, I drop my gaze and mutter, "I think you can handle the rest on your own."

  Moving back to the front of the class, I take Melissa's place and finish the rest of the poses. I refuse to look in the mirror again at Ryker, who may possibly be getting molested by Melissa. While the thought of it causes me unease, I refuse to let myself care anymore about it.

  Chapter 5

  Ryker

  The front door swings open, banging hard against the wall, and I feel the reverberation of it all the way into the kitchen, where I'm paying some bills online.

  "We're home, Dad," Violet calls out, and then I hear both her and Ruby's feet pounding up the stairs. It's like clockwork when they get home from school: They run upstairs and get out of their uniforms and into playclothes. Since it's a nice day outside, hovering in the low sixties, I know they'll head right back out to play. Violet to sit on the swing while perhaps reading a book and Ruby to collect bugs.

  The front door shuts and I assume that's Kate coming in, as she's the one who picks up the girls from school when she picks up Ben. They all go to the same private Montessori school and it's been such a blessing to have Kate helping me out.

  I was so unsure of what to do and how to handle them when they first came to live with me, and I was ashamed I didn't know more. I was annoyed by the fact that I became one of those men who went off to earn the bacon and left the little wife at home to manage the kids. The reason that annoys me is that I'm far more progressive in my thinking and apparently at some point I had just become a lazy fuck and let Hensley handle it all.

  It only took about a month for Kate to get me settled with the girls and soon I didn't need her full time. Which was good, because she was itching to turn all of her attention back to Zack and his little boy, Ben.

  My best mate, Zack, can be a knucklehead sometimes. He had hired Kate earlier this year to care for Ben, as Zack himself was a single father, Ben's mom dying in a car accident late in the prior year. Kate was the perfect nanny, managing Ben and the household with ease, but she couldn't seem to manage Zack himself. The bonehead seduced her, caused her to fall in love with him, and then he hurt her badly.

  While I felt terrible for what each of them was going through, I used this fortuitous event to scoop Kate up so she could help me with the girls. Sadly, she wasn't with me long when Zack decided to pull his head out of his ass and get his girl back. Kate stayed with me a few more weeks and then she proclaimed me ready to fly on my own.

  Well...almost on my own. While I'm perfectly capable of managing the girls when I'm in town, it's a bit harder when I travel to away games. I held off hiring another nanny when Kate offered to keep the girls with her when the team had road games. I took her up on it because I trusted her, but I still feel a little guilty that it's disrupting her own time with Ben.

  "Hey," I hear from the entryway to the kitchen.

  I look up in surprise to see Zack standing there.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Ben had a dentist appointment this afternoon and he only wanted Kate to take him. So I had carpool duty."

  Zack says this with a grin on his face, because he actually gets a genuine kick out of how much Ben has grown to love Kate. She has, in all respects, become his mother.

  Flopping down into a chair at the kitchen table opposite me, Zack says, "What did you do today?"

  Today was a rare day off, as we had a home game yesterday and have another tomorrow, and then will go immediately on the road for an away game. "Worked out."

  "Why didn't you call me? I would have gone with you."

  Hmmm. Do I tell Zack the truth?

  "I actually went to a yoga class," I hedge, pleased with myself that was the full truth so far.

  "Dude," he says mockingly. "Are you serious?"

  "Yup. It's great for flexibility, and as your star goalie, you know I have to keep these old hips limber."

  "You could try fucking someone," Zack teases in a low voice, because as a parent, he knows when to avoid prying little ears. "That definitely keeps the hips loose."

  And that's just great.

  Now I'm thinking about Gray again.

  I've been trying to focus on other things, hence the reason I'm paying bills even though they're not due until next week. Ever since that stupid yoga class this morning, all I've been able to do today is think about how her hands felt on me. Innocent and benign at first, but then it changed into something else. Her touches lingered, and they were totally unnecessary. It was with just a simple placement of her hand behind my knee to straighten my leg out that I felt it. A faint stirring in my dick as it decided to wake up and check out this woman whose soft handling seem to call out to him.

  When Gray walked around to my front and raised those green eyes up my way, I felt victorious over the just-barely-there sensual look. It validated what I had been considering.

  That she was attracted to me and not just my stats as a goalie.

  So when Zack suggests I need to fuck someone to keep the hips loose, I know exactly who my fuck of choice would be.

  My boss, Gray Brannon.

  I give a mental, shameful slap to myself and turn the subject to safer territory. Well, safer for me but guaranteed to get a rise out of Zack.

  "Any new ideas on the proposal?" I ask casually, and suppress the grin when Zack's body tightens all over.

  My poor buddy Zack.


  He's been trying to pull off the perfect marriage proposal to Kate and yet he's failed--epically--every time.

  The first attempt wasn't anything original, but it was expensive. He planned a weekend trip to the Bahamas, booked a suite at the Baha Mar, and left Ben with me. Just before he was set to leave the house...just as Kate was yelling at him from the kitchen to hurry up or they'd miss their plane...just because he had to look at the ring one more time to make sure it was definitely in the little black velvet box, the poor fucker popped the top and the ring toppled out and slipped down the bathroom sink drain.

  I can't help it. I still snicker to myself every time I imagine Zack's face as the diamond disappeared.

  Zack still took Kate to the Bahamas for the weekend, but he left me with instructions to get a plumber over to his house and retrieve the ring. It was the least I could do for him.

  The second idea he had was even more magnificent, making the failure even worse.

  He took Kate on a hot air balloon ride, where he paid a farmer to mow MARRY ME into his dried cornfield. Zack intended to produce the ring just as she caught sight of the words. Unfortunately, the balloon pilot was caught in an unexpected southwesterly breeze that blew them several miles off course, where they floated over the county landfill.

  I seriously almost peed my pants when he told me that.

  Now my boy is a little gun shy, and while in his heart of hearts he still wants to do something big and flashy, he told me the other day that sometimes he feels like just grabbing her hand at breakfast and shoving the ring on her finger.

  This does not make me laugh, because proposing to Kate is a big deal to this man. He spent so many months, even years, feeling so damn guilty for never offering marriage to Ben's mom, Gina. Now he's able to reason it out. He can rationally understand that Gina just wasn't the one. Which makes his proposal to Kate all the more important that he nail it.

  "Maybe I could hire a singing telegram," Zack says glumly.

  "Dude...the purpose of the proposal is to get her to say yes. Do not do a singing telegram."

  "Maybe a dinner out and I'll have the waiter put the ring in her glass of champagne?"

  "Boring," I say with a mock yawn.

  "A skywriter?" he asks with his eyebrows raised in hope.

  "Man, with the way your luck has been going, the plane would probably crash down on top of you."

  "I give up, then," Zack says in frustration as he pushes out of the chair. "I'm just going home right now and as soon as she walks in the house, I'm going down on one knee."

  "Wait a minute," I say to calm him. "Sit down and let's think this through."

  Zack throws himself back down into the chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks a little...pouty.

  Whatever.

  "This is Kate," I say logically. "What would mean the most to Kate?"

  Zack shrugs his shoulders, but I can tell by the look in his eyes he actually knows exactly what would mean the most to her. He knows it and he doesn't want to say it, and I'm perplexed.

  So I push him. "Kate isn't into big and splashy stuff. She doesn't need the expensive trips or balloon rides."

  Rolling his eyes, Zack sits up in the chair and leans toward me. "But I need it," he blurts out.

  "What?" I ask in astonishment, because I think he may have just grown a vagina right here and now.

  "I need to make a statement to Kate and to everyone and anyone that will listen. I want the entire world to know how much I love her and that I can't wait for her to be my wife. I'd write it across the sky in every state if I could."

  And fuck...I think I just grew a vagina, because that actually chokes me up a bit. Zack is going overboard in his need to make Kate understand just how committed he is to the idea of marriage.

  "Zack," I say seriously, holding his gaze. "No, you don't need that. You only need Kate."

  His shoulders sag a bit and he seems to deflate right in front of me. His face lowers and he sighs. "I know. I just want her to never doubt what I feel."

  I'm silent for a moment, because he's actually talking about the difference between words and action. He feels the words aren't enough so he wants to make up for it with action.

  The way in which we do things speaks almost as loud as the actual words we say.

  A prime example...the way Gray touched me this morning.

  Do. Not. Fucking. Go. There.

  "I got it," I say suddenly and in a supreme effort to push Gray from my thoughts. "Propose in front of the team. At the Christmas party. You can't fuck that up...just show up with the ring in your pocket and do it in front of the whole goddamned team. That right there will make a statement."

  Zack's eyes light up. His lips curve upward in a smile. "A Christmas proposal?"

  "It's just a little less than three weeks away."

  "A Christmas proposal," he muses again, then shoots me a big grin. "You're a fucking genius."

  A-a-a-a-and, that gets me thinking of Gray again. She's a certified genius. And I want to feel her hands on me again.

  Just fucking stop it, I yell at myself.

  I close my eyes and gingerly rub at my temples, because this war inside my head is causing the mother of all headaches.

  "You okay, man?" Zack asks.

  Opening my eyes back up, I give him a sheepish smile. "Yeah...just a little stressed about seeing Hensley next week."

  Not a total lie. It's not what I had been stressed about right at that moment, but I am in fact not looking forward to her arrival.

  The girls are beyond excited, but then children have very forgiving hearts. When the girls first came to live with me, Hensley called them every day. Then when the hockey season started, and she was traveling with her young boy toy, the calls started to decline. Maybe four or five times a week, then down to just a few times, and now she calls every Sunday. That's her pattern at the moment.

  I've had to deal with the fallout. Ruby occasionally won't sleep in her bed and cries for her mom. Violet will sometimes get off the phone with her mom and she'll lose that dreamy look in her eyes. It's replaced with something that looks a bit colder...a bit flatter.

  Frankly, it freaks me out.

  But then Hensley will call and they'll get all excited again, because when it boils right down to it, she is their mom.

  "Are you going to have to suffer the douche's presence?" Zack asks as he drums his fingers on the kitchen table.

  "God, I hope not. I better email her just to make sure she doesn't bring him to the house."

  "You'd kick his ass again, huh?" Zack laughs.

  And I realize...no, I wouldn't.

  I broke Sutter's nose when I first found out that Hensley slept with him, because I was angry and betrayed, not just by my wife but with him as my teammate. But now I don't feel anger. In fact, I don't feel much of anything when I think about him. Just like I don't feel much of anything for Hensley other than a vague fondness for her role as the girls' mother.

  I'm not a psychologist, but I think that might mean that I may not have been as invested in that marriage as a spouse should be. We had grown apart and things just got...comfortable.

  For me, at least.

  Hensley, of course, was anything but, and so she went out to sow her wild oats.

  The stomping of feet down the staircase has me standing up from my chair and ignoring Zack's question. With the girls about to make an appearance, we simply do not talk about the way Daddy punched out Mommy's boyfriend.

  The girls come scampering into the kitchen, Ruby chattering like a squirrel and Violet calmly telling me about the homework she has to do tonight. Zack hangs around for a bit and we sit out on the back deck and enjoy the ability to drink a beer out there in December.

  He keeps me entertained for a while.

  He keeps my thoughts off Gray.

  I know after he leaves I'm going to be busy with the girls the rest of the night and I almost...almost dread where my thoughts will turn after they go to sleep. br />
  Chapter 6

  Gray

  I glance at my watch as I exit the elevator and head toward the executive office suite. Two hours until the game starts and I want to be at home, in my pajamas, and watching from the comfort of my bed by then.

  The Cold Fury is playing an away came in D.C. tonight and I didn't go. I didn't go for only one reason, which isn't a very good one. It's actually following me out of the elevator at this moment.

  Chad Sykes, the senior columnist at Sports Elite, the nation's biggest and most influential sports magazine. I'm apparently going to grace the cover next week, and while this isn't my first interview I've given in the past seven days since I was appointed general manager of this club, it is the most important.

  Per my father's suggestion, Chad has been shadowing me all day, watching how the first female general manager in this league handles the operations of a $437 million franchise. For the most part, he just watched me, furiously typing away on his tablet when something I did interested him. I think he almost fell asleep when I met with our director of merchandising to go over loss leader products for the previous year. By the third spreadsheet I was reviewing with her, I actually saw his head nod.

  Chad perked back up when I met with my replacement as head scout for the Cold Fury. Billie Mantle was my selection, and that's a she-Billie, not a he-Billie. I chose a woman to succeed me because I thought it made a bold statement. It shows the world that women can have critical roles in men's hockey.

  Billie and I went over the reports from the scouting staff. We have twenty-one scouts currently who spend most of their lives on the road seeking talent that can one day translate into a solid score for our team. Chad had a few minor questions, easily answered, and he spent a great deal of time watching us with interest.

  I think he may have nodded back off when I was testing a new software program I was having developed to help me analyze my data. Right now I am using some generic SAS software for my analytics, but I want something that is particular to the sport and isn't available to the other teams. So I'm paying an exorbitant amount of money to an ex-SAS programmer to work for me directly.