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  Easier said than done. The Flyers were well on their way to being number one in the league, and there was a reason for that.

  The next faceoff proved just how difficult holding them off would be. Scuffling took longer than normal, players were getting punchy, and when the Kelso line pressed on goal again, Jax’s line shifted out. Fresh legs were dangerous, and Zane made sure he and Boomer stayed on track, not that Boomer needed him to monitor. The guy was a hawk, and he barely celebrated anything on the ice until time ran out.

  The Flyers made a move on goal, the Kelso line swapped out, but the new Flyers were hungry, and, try as Zane and Boomer did, they couldn’t keep up. Even Pike was no match for their antics.

  Zane swore under his breath as the buzzer sounded the goal. He came closer to Pike, who looked murderous.

  “You good?” Zane grunted.

  Pike glared at him. “Where were you?”

  “Tap-dancing. Come on, that was a cheap shot in the corner pocket, and you know it.”

  “You gotta help me out, Z. Get there.”

  Zane nodded and skated back to his position.

  Tied game.

  If they could keep them tied until the end, they could get them in overtime. They were trained to skate longer and harder than any other team. That was the reputation of the Hounds these days, and they liked it that way

  The Flyers were testing that claim, and it wasn’t looking good.

  Fortunately, Shap’s line did not like their situation, and they made the Flyer goalie work to keep the tied game.

  When the third period ended without a clear victory, rather than be upset about it, Zane felt a surge of excitement. They’d gone the distance with the hotshot team in the league, and no matter how this game ended, all of the other teams would know to watch out for the Hounds. A target on their backs, maybe, but so what?

  Better to be targeted than to be written off.

  Zane pumped up his teammates along with the captains as best as he could, though they didn’t need much encouragement. They were all fired up all on their own, ready for overtime and to leave an impression.

  The slate was clean now. New ice. New game.

  Game on.

  Coming back onto the ice was intense, and Zane loved it. The roaring of the crowd, the cool steel in the eyes of everyone, the possibilities before them . . .

  This was the good stuff.

  Flyers won the faceoff, the puck sliding towards Zane, Janny coming back to match him.

  “Eyes, eyes, eyes,” Zane chanted, backpedaling towards goal.

  “Yeah,” Janny replied, intercepting the play and sweeping it off to the side before charging up the ice.

  Zane followed him, then groaned when the Flyers defender checked Janny, who then dropped his gloves and stick, challenging him. More gloves dropped, followed by a stick, and they were at it.

  The Hounds box erupted, but Zane only watched, irritated. He was the showboat of the team, an enforcer and a penalty king, but this was just stupid.

  Janny wasn’t a fighter, and he would be owned by his opponent. This was pure temper tantrum, not the good hockey fights everyone could enjoy.

  “You gonna defend your position?” Boomer asked, skating to his side.

  “As what?” Zane replied. “Team Hothead? Even I don’t fight pointlessly. I always have a reason.”

  Boomer barked a loud laugh. “Since when?”

  “Now.”

  “Should we go break it up?” Boomer offered, making a face.

  Zane shook his head. “If I set one foot over there, they’ll call me on something. Shap can do it.”

  Sure enough, their team captain was to the fight in a moment, pulling the rookie off of the experienced defender almost twice his size. Shap yelled at Janny as he got pulled from the ice, and Zane grunted as they called the Flyers defender for the crosscheck.

  “And on we go,” Boomer acknowledged with a nod. “Your buddy should be shifting on soon. Got a present?”

  Zane shrugged. “Maybe. Just want to get back to the good stuff. We’re on fire, Boom. This should be fun.”

  “Should.” Boomer gave him a look before moving to his side of the ice.

  The play was back on, and sure enough, Jax was back on the ice within thirty seconds. He paid more attention to Zane, barely missing what would have been a glorious hit just as Boomer got slammed into the goal, dislodging the neck and stopping play.

  Jax scooted backwards towards the faceoff, staring down Zane and shaking his head playfully.

  Zane grinned and straightened, gesturing to himself as if to say bring it on, but he knew full well Jax wouldn’t. It would take a lot for the two of them to actually fight each other, despite both being hotheads. Too much mutual respect and love of the game. They’d fight with other players, but not each other.

  Hockey was strange that way.

  The goal was righted—and another faceoff, this one moving quickly over to the goal. Zane chipped the puck out of danger, or so he thought, until Jax was back, scooping up the puck and firing it at the goal.

  Zane blinked as the buzzer sounded, bringing the game to an abrupt end. The Flyers players swarmed Jax for his incredible play, and, for a moment, Zane felt as though his stomach dropped through the ice at his feet. But as he looked around the arena, the fans were still cheering their hearts out, undeterred by the loss and Jax’s quick score.

  They saw what Zane had seen.

  The Hounds were on their way.

  Zane nodded to himself and skated with his teammates over to the lineup, waving his stick in the air to the fans in thanks. They responded by pounding on the plexiglass and stomping their feet, which should ease the burden of his teammates.

  Should.

  They shook hands with the Flyers, and Zane patted Jax’s face when they reached him. “Good shot, J.”

  “I like Italian,” Jax told him, slapping his chest before moving on.

  Zane rolled his eyes and finished the line before heading back to the locker room. He took a moment longer in the showers than he usually did, just because he would be taking Jax to dinner instead of going straight home.

  The attitude of his teammates was lighter than it would normally be after a loss, and he was glad to see it. A loss to the Flyers after a game like that wasn’t something to pout about. Sure, it could be a disappointment, but the attention on the sports programs wouldn’t be about the Flyers dominating the Hounds. It would be about the street fight of a game and how the Flyers almost didn’t pull it off.

  That was a disappointment worth getting over.

  Pulling a black T-shirt over his head, Zane reached for his phone, glancing at the screen before sliding it into his pocket with disgust.

  Missed call from Michelle.

  Again.

  No voicemail.

  This was getting ridiculous. His playing schedule was public knowledge; she could have figured out when he wasn’t available. But effort wasn’t something that interested his ex, and he shouldn’t be surprised by that.

  Jax would have a field day when he found out.

  He grabbed his coat and bag, nodding to Flake and Petey as he headed out of the locker room. It would be fantastic to have a distraction from the drama that was guaranteed to be heading his way once he stopped missing her calls.

  He didn’t even want to consider what it could be.

  He wasn’t interested.

  “Hey.”

  He hadn’t expected the warm, familiar voice that made his pulse instantly dance, and he stopped, looking up, unsure when he had started looking down as he walked. His bag dropped to the ground once his eyes adjusted, and his pulse went from dancing to pounding in at least seven locations on his body.

  Mara stood there, leaning against a cement pillar, her incredible legs encased in black leggings that disappeared into a long cream-colored tunic sweater with a wide neck. He could almost see the tops of her shoulders, though he could definitely see thin straps of a tank top beneath. She’d curled her
hair a little, making it wave in a way that caused his fingers to itch with the desire to wrap themselves within it. Her makeup was only a little more than usual, he was pleased to see, with plenty of her all-natural beauty shining through. She’d worn neutral boots with a heel, and the gift that heel was to already perfect legs undid him.

  “Hi,” he exhaled, the word almost lost on the gust of air. “You . . . you were . . .”

  She tilted her head a little, and his lips began to buzz, the memory of that morning’s kiss reigniting with a fury. Somehow he’d forgotten all about that during his game, though he’d been turned around by it for most of the day. Her lips had been soft and generous, and if she hadn’t backed away through his front door, he’d have gone in for another kiss far less simple.

  Her left leg began to bounce a little, and his attention shifted there, blood pounding hard in his ears.

  The leg moved, and he blinked, barely having time to register that Mara was coming towards him before she had one hand behind his head and had tugged his mouth to hers.

  What followed was a thorough dismantling of every single thought Zane had ever had in his entire life.

  There was zero hesitation in her kiss, and her hold on him bordered on the painfully clenching, which lit into him like an electric shock. One hand clamped against her hair, taking no care for whatever she’d done with it, while his other arm wrapped around her and hauled her closer. He fought with her passion, warred with it, danced with it, and took the kiss as deep as she would allow, though she was keeping him plenty occupied with the intoxicating give-and-take her lips were engaged in.

  Zane moaned as she dug her fingers in against his neck and moved, pushing her back until there was a wall to support them both. Mara latched both hands onto his neck now, one beginning a slow slide up against his scalp that created an echo of rippling sensation up his spine. He gasped against her mouth, then slid his lips from hers to shower her jaw and neck with heat. Her gasps and whimpers into his ear spurred him on, but nothing undid him more than the powerful jerk he felt from her hands dragging his mouth back to hers.

  Her lips were relentless against his, leaving no doubt in his mind that she was in control here, and she wanted him.

  It was a humbling and gratifying sensation, and he softened his hold on her just enough to turn the kiss tender. No less powerful, no less intense, and she responded immediately, opening to him further still, now wrapping her arms around his neck in an embrace, sighing into him.

  Zane’s fingers tangled further into her hair, cradling this incredible woman against his mouth.

  “Oh, come on, he didn’t play that good.”

  They both froze at the jab, and a slow, burning trickle of indignation began in Zane’s heels and moved up his calves. His lips still touched Mara’s, though neither moved.

  “Hmm,” Jax said again, sounding completely unperturbed by what he was seeing. “So I’m guessing that’s a raincheck for dinner . . .”

  Zane brushed his lips very softly and very carefully against Mara’s, a promise of continuation as soon as possible, before pulling back just enough to disconnect from her. He dropped one hand from the wall, though he wasn’t sure when it had pressed there, and reached for his wallet in a back pocket. He held it out behind him, keeping his eyes trained on Mara’s wide, almost slumberous ones. “Take the money.”

  Jax tsked, not taking the wallet. “Solo dinners. Not my fave. How about breakfast tomorrow? Bring the bug?”

  Zane exhaled a short grunt, watching with almost pain as Mara’s full and swollen lips quirked at the reference she clearly caught. “She has school, J.”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday,” Jax reminded him. “Late arrival. She told me last time we talked school.”

  Now Zane growled, earning him would-be soothing strokes from Mara’s fingers against his neck. “J. I will end your season if you don’t leave now.”

  “I’ll text you the location for tomorrow,” came the cheeky reply. “I’m serious, bring the bug. And whoever is between you and the wall.”

  Mara lifted a brow, smiling fully now, but only at Zane. “Mara.”

  “Hi, Mara. I’m Jax.”

  Zane leaned closer to Mara, her eyes darkening as he brushed his nose against hers. “The corpse formerly known as Jax in three . . . two . . . one . . .”

  “Good night, guys. Drive safe. Oh, Z . . .”

  “Jax . . .”

  “See you next week?”

  “Yes,” Zane grunted. “Bye.”

  He didn’t hear another response, so he took the opportunity to press his lips to Mara’s again, though the damage was done and their whirlwind moment of passion was fading.

  Or the delirium of it was.

  He could happily kiss Mara in this long, lingering, slow way for ages without interruption.

  Mara finally broke off, sighing deeply and running her fingers along his scalp again, reaching into his longer hair in a way that sent fire shooting into his gut. “That has been building all. Freaking. Day.”

  Zane grinned and nuzzled against her lips, catching her lower one with his teeth very softly. “Remind me to give you a kiss every morning, then.”

  “That was supposed to be payback,” Mara scolded, her eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah, I got that. Good job.”

  “Ha,” she said softly, draping her arms over his shoulders and touching her brow to his. “So. Is Jax always like that?”

  Zane shook his head against her, his thumb stroking against her cheek. “No. This is a special occasion.”

  Mara’s giggle made him tense. “What’s he like normally?”

  “Not your type.”

  She gave him a scolding look. “That wasn’t where I was going.”

  “Doesn’t matter. ’Nuff said.”

  Mara sighed a laugh and laced her hands around him, leaning back against the wall. “Are you upset about the loss?”

  He gave her a crooked smile “What loss? I haven’t lost a damn thing tonight.”

  “Cute,” she remarked, her cheeks coloring.

  “No, incredible,” he assured her. “I think my brain is moving backwards right now, and I’m wondering when we can do that again.” He leaned in to give her another soft kiss. “I’m on fire, babe. For you.”

  Mara shivered in his hold, and he pulled her closer out of instinct. “Me too,” she admitted in a whisper. “You should have seen me at work, I was a complete wreck.”

  “I’m not apologizing for that,” he said, grinning freely. “I intend to be the foremost thought in your mind from here on out.”

  “You won’t have to work very hard there.” She lowered one of her hands to trace along the scruff at his jaw, her eyes following. “What do we do now?”

  He heard the uncertainty in her voice, and it weakened his knees. He tipped her chin up, her eyes finding his once more. “You’re driving this boat, babe. I’m just enjoying the ride.”

  Her eyes searched his with more raw vulnerability than he’d have ever expected in her. “So if I were to tell you to stop . . .”

  “Hard stop,” he interrupted firmly. “No arguments. I might cry a little, go beat something up, but no argument.”

  “What if I said . . .?”

  “Your pace,” he insisted. “Whenever you’re ready for wherever we go, I’m there.”

  “Even if I said snail?” she ventured.

  He swallowed and nodded, still smiling. “Slow and steady works.” He waited a beat, then winced. “You’re not going to say snail, are you?”

  Mara laughed and touched her nose to his. “No, dummy, I was just checking.”

  He exhaled roughly in relief. “Oh sweet mercy, thank you.” He kissed her quickly, then pulled her in for a tight hug. “This is real, Mara. Really real. And while I am a huge fan of what just happened, I am even more a huge fan of you. I’m in this, okay? This is a thing. If you want it to be.”

  “I want,” she replied, her mouth at his ear, making him tingle along the soles of his feet. “I
’m game. I’m here.”

  Zane hid a smile in her shoulder, then pressed a hot but quick kiss to her neck before straightening up and reluctantly pulling back. He eyed her slowly up and down, favoring her with an approving smile. “This is golden, babe. So gorgeous, and if you hadn’t come to me first, I’d have been all over you.”

  She grinned and curtseyed. “That was the idea.” She turned her ankle to eye her boots, frowning. “I love heels, but I was told once that a tall girl should never wear heels.”

  “Lies,” he grunted with a shake of his head. “Complete and utter lies. You wear whatever you want, and when you’re with me, wear the heels. In fact, please wear them.”

  Mara lifted her gaze to his, her smile turning coy. “I do like the way they make my legs look.” She arched in just the right way to display her leg to full and glorious effect.

  He groaned with at least fourteen emotions. “So do I.”

  She laughed and straightened, sweeping her hands behind her back. “So. Does my boyfriend want to go grab something to eat with me?”

  Zane swallowed once and held out a hand to her. “Your boyfriend would like to take his girlfriend anywhere she wants to go so long as he gets to come along.”

  Mara stepped forward and took his hand, her fingers easily folding between his. “Now that’s where I was going.” She went up a little to kiss him, though the heels rendered the distance closer than normal, which was a bonus, in his mind. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed hers softly. “You got it.”

  Officially having a professional hockey player as a boyfriend certainly had its perks, and Mara was becoming aware of them at a shocking rate.

  Having said boyfriend show up at her workplace for lunch unannounced hadn’t been one she’d expected.

  Not that he’d announced himself as her boyfriend when he’d gotten there or that Mara had known he’d arrived right away.

  She’d simply been sitting at her desk, finishing up some documentation from the morning’s clinic, when she heard the unmistakable sound of the front desk window sliding open. “Hi, can I help you?”