Excerpt!
Luka
Easing open the door, I slip through, bolting to the welcoming darkness of the closed Quakes’ Cove bar. I lean against a wall, shrouded in shadows, and stare down at the rink below. It’s late morning, and the rookies are doing drills under the watchful eyes of Jason Tolls, Linc, and a couple of other player development coaches. My friend looks in his element. Happy. Shit. I miss him, as well as Sonny and Bri. But I don’t go out much. Between scaring a kid at the grocery store and panic attacks that strike out of nowhere, I keep myself hidden away. The guys have their lives, and I don’t need to ruin their happiness by freaking them out. They wouldn’t care, but I do. “Hey.” The soft, whispered word makes me glance away from the ice. F**k. Catherine Bishop, the Quakes’ owner, and Linc’s girlfriend, steps into the bar and stands next to me. I turn my face away, seeking refuge in the shadows.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Catherine’s finger touches my chin and turns my head so I’m facing her. “You will not hide from me.” She stares directly into my eyes. Her family did everything in their power to help me recover, starting with the best sports ophthalmologist so I wouldn’t lose my eye. Then a world-class plastic surgeon to keep my scarring to a minimum. I have a functioning eyelid, thanks to them. “Your features were way too pretty and perfect. The scar helps. You now look kind of like a bad boy. Women will go crazy.”
I can’t help the snort which escapes me. “In my dreams.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “How’s your mom? I miss Maja.”
“She’s good. I spoke with her this morning.” Catherine came over a few times and took my mom out to lunch or dinner so she could have a break from me. I’d been such a hurting asshole that my boss took it upon herself to look after my mom. They hit it off. Why not? They’re both powerful women. Catherine shattering glass ceilings and my mom raising three kids on her own after my dad lost his mind.
She gestures to the ice. “How’re the rookies? See anyone impressive?”
I break our eye contact, relieved to go back to the shadows and study the players below. Some of them are in their young and gangly stage, like Bambi on ice. But some of the older kids are filling out and showing the promise of their mature athletic bodies to come.
“Your giant six-six goalie looks promising. He’s going to kill it in the AHL for the Tsunami. Linc must be drooling. For his size, the kid is agile, and he knows how to stay deep in his crease. He’ll be a brick wall for our opponents.”
“Yeah, I have high hopes for him. I also like the left winger, Berglund.” She slants her gaze my way. “He reminds me of you at his age—fast, full of energy, great hockey sense.”
“Looking to replace me? Afraid I’ll scare the fans?”
She glares at me. “Stop it, or I’ll tattle to Linc that you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
Catherine never takes my bullshit. I sigh. “Too soon to joke?”
“If I thought you were joking, it’d be okay, but I know you weren’t.”
How does she read me so well? “Fine. You’re right.” We watch the rooks in peaceful silence. I can almost relax.
“Hey Ribi, good to see you.” An L.A. Quakes’ blogger calls out in passing.
Suddenly, my heart starts pounding. I break out into a sweat and dizziness swamps me, making me sway. My whole body shakes. F**k. I can’t have a panic attack. Not here. Not now.
“Oye gilipollas,” a tiny woman shouts and storms into the bar. I automatically translate the Spanish into English—Hey, a**hole. Before I could blink, the petite Latina stabs her finger into my chest, while glaring at my face, stopping my anxiety attack in a flash.
As the hottest left-winger in the league, I was the handsome golden boy for the L.A. Quakes. But after suffering horrific injuries during a game, my life is on a breakaway to disaster. My biggest fear is a darkness from my past is about to repeat itself. All I want to do is hide from the world, but fate has another plan.
Feisty beauty Liliana Alvarez doesn’t suffer fools lightly, especially when it comes to her kids in her new non-profit outreach. She’ll drag me, kicking and screaming, if necessary, from the hole I’ve crawled into if it’s the last thing she does. For some reason, she is patient enough to wait for me to heal and something sparks between us, wounds, and all. But her abusive ex-boyfriend threatens to shatter our hopes of a happily ever after.
Can enemies-turned-lovers help save each other or is the ice tilted against us?
Author bio:
Alisa Jean is the pseudonym for award-winning authors Marla A. White and C J Bahr. They first teamed up over thirty years ago over a bottle of Zima (don’t ask) while polishing their gear for a horse show. They’ve since moved on to better beverages and writing novels. Separately, Marla prefers to murder characters in the usual way, while C J uses paranormal means. The long-time best friends joined together as a writing team through their mutual love of hockey. Wonder twin powers activated! Their hockey romances examine flawed characters with heart, humor, and sexy sizzle.
