The Keeper (Playing To Win Book 1)

“Princess,” I whisper as I run my fingers through Lindy’s soft hair, a sexy, exhausted smile stretched across her beautiful face. “I’ve got to get back to my room and grab my stuff. I’ve got a walk through to get to.”

“Hmm . . .” She reaches up and grabs my shirt, trying to pull me down with her. “It’s too early to wake up. Come back to bed. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Have I created a monster?” I tease. We reached for each other all night last night.

“Baby, you’re gonna be sore.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “I left you a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.”

She pouts and sits up with the white sheet covering her gorgeous body. “I won’t get you back for two more nights. I’ll be fine. Are you sure you don’t have time?” Her stormy eyes sparkle bright blue for me.

“You’re bad. The bus leaves in fifteen minutes. I’ve got to go.”

She drops the sheet and goes up to her knees, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Fine. Go to work.” She smiles, and I swear my heart constricts like in one of those stupid romantic comedies Jules used to make us watch all the time. “Can I come to your game tonight?”

“You kinda own the team, princess. Pretty sure that’s up to you.” A lesser man would definitely be intimidated by the power my wife holds. But I’m no lesser man, and I want her to embrace her legacy so she can hold the reins to her own future.

“I do, don’t I?” She smiles and presses a kiss to my chin. “I guess that means I have to call Max, doesn’t it?”

“Probably not a bad move. It’s not like he’s been with us for this stretch, but I’m sure he’s gonna hear about it if you show up tonight.” I run my hand down the smooth skin of her back and cup her perfect fucking ass. “Text me later and let me know how it goes.”

She skims her lips along my jaw, and my cock presses against the zipper of my jeans. “Baby, you keep doing that and your brother’s going to kick my ass when I get on the bus with a boner.”

She pulls back with such a sexy fucking pout on her lips. “Fine. But you know you don’t need to let him kick your ass though. You’re bigger, and I’m pretty sure you’re stronger than Jace.”

“You asked me not to hurt him, so I haven’t,” I admit. “Either he’ll get over it or he won’t. But for now, at least he can’t bitch that I hurt him. He’s your brother. How we handle him is up to you.”

Her face softens, and she grips my shirt. “Damn, you’re one sexy man, Easton Hayes. You’ve got this whole insanely hot balance of growly dominance and supportive strength going on, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything more seductive in my life.”

“Don’t say shit like that when you’re naked in front of me, baby. I’ve gotta go to work.” I lift her up by her ass and drop her back on the bed, then lean over her. “We leave tonight right from the game, then have one more game tomorrow night before we fly home. You gonna be waiting for me when I get back to Kroydon Hills, wife?”

“Oh, you bet your sweet ass I will, husband.”

I wrap her hair around my fist and tug her to me. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Lindy moans and presses her mouth to mine. “You better win for me tonight, hockey boy.”

I force myself to take a step back. “I’ll do my best.”

I’m sitting on my bench, lacing up my skates before our walk through when Jace comes around the corner and hits my boot with his hockey stick. “Where the fuck did you sleep last night, asshole?”

“Come on, man. Let it go,” Boone tells him and tries to move Jace away, but my brother-in-law has gotten himself way too worked up for that. He’s looking for a fight, and I’m so fucking over this shit.

I stand to my full height, which is about three inches and thirty pounds bigger than Jace Kingston, and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s your fucking problem, Kingston?”

“You’re my fucking problem, Hayes. You got Lindy drunk and took advantage of her in Vegas. Now you’re married without a prenup—pretty fucking convenient. And now it’s your first fucking away stretch, and you didn’t sleep in your room last night. So what, you already out fucking some whore?”

I see fucking red and swing at Jace’s jaw before I even realize what I’m doing.

Pretty sure I hear a crack too, as he takes a step back to steady himself, but I grab him by the front of his jersey and yank him toward me.

Boone grabs me as Malcom grabs Jace.

“You wanna do this here, man?” I reach out and shove him back, fighting to free myself from the bear-hold Boone’s got me in. “Fine. Let’s do it. I married your sister in Vegas, and I’d do it again. I don’t give a shit about a prenup because I don’t care about her money. If she asked me to sign something today, I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat. I’ve already got more money than I’ll ever need.”

He shoves Malcom off him and comes at me again. “Where the fuck did you sleep last night, Hayes?”

“In bed with your sister. She flew in yesterday. Now get the fuck out of my face.”

Coach Fitz walks into the room, and everyone takes a step back.

“What the hell is going on here?” Fitz booms, and everyone around us stops talking and moves. “You two. With me. Now.”

We follow Coach into the room Brynlee and Mason, our other physical therapist, are currently working in. “Can you guys give us the room, please?”

Fitz sounds calmer than I think he actually is.

But that’s yet to be seen.

He waits until the door closes, then his face turns purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? Jace. You’re a captain. Act like it. If you want to keep winning games, we need a goddamned goalie. Preferably one who can stop the puck. Max spun shit into gold and got me one of the best goalies in the whole fucking league. And you haven’t stopped fucking with him all goddamned fucking week.”

Jace looks at me and then back to Fitz, who I haven’t heard curse once in the week I’ve been with the team.

“Is this hazing? Because no team of mine is going to haze the rookies or the fucking trades. Even if they came from a rival team.”

“It’s a family thing, Coach,” Jace answers him, and I scoff.

“You got something to add, Hayes?” Fitz demands more than asks.

“I’m not your family, Kingston. I love my wife, and she’s your sister. You should try talking to her instead of making me your problem.” I turn back to Coach and mask the anger I can’t quite seem to shake. “I’m here to win games, Coach.”

“So help me God, if this shit spills over onto my ice, I’m benching both of you. Do you understand me?”

We both answer, “Yes, Coach.”

“Good. Now get out of here and warm up before I decide to bench you for good measure.” Then he starts mumbling about stupid fucking asshole players, and I start to wonder if maybe we broke Fitz.

Jace and I get the fuck out of the room and let the door slam shut behind us before he stops in front of me. “I want to tell you to stay the fuck away from me, and we’ll be fine on the ice. But you said something back there, and I gotta know.”

I brace myself for whatever bullshit he’s about to sling my way.

“You love her? Lindy? You love my sister?”

“More than my own fucking life, asshole,” I answer him and don’t stick around for him to say anything else. I’ve got a game to prep for, and this isn’t how I want to do it.

Lindy

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I’m not sure I can accurately measure how much I don’t want to call Max. That’s the only reason I can come up with for waiting until I’m in the arena’s parking lot, thirty minutes before puck drop to make the call.

“Madeline,” he answers after one ring. “Are you okay?” Max always goes straight into protector mode. If any of my older brothers assumed the father role after our father died a few months before I was born, it was Max. He’s my oldest brother. My oldest sibling. He’s always taken it on his own shoulders to make sure all nine of us were okay. Me especially, considering Jace is my closest sibling in age, and he was in high school when our dad died.

“I’m fine. I’m great, actually,” I add, trying to sound cheerful instead of like I’m about to walk the plank. Which is kinda what this phone call feels like. “I decided to fly out for Easton’s game tonight and wanted to give you a heads-up that I was here. There were a few reporters at the hotel last night and today, so I’m sure it will end up somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have arranged a box for you. If you give me a few, I can get my assistant—”

“That’s why I didn’t call, Maximus. I wanted to come to the game and watch my husband play. Not come and check out the team I own. There’s a difference,” I tell him, silently willing him to understand.

“That’s where you’re wrong, kid. There’s no difference. It’s two sides of the same coin, and you’re going to have to learn how to balance it. Married or not, you’ll always be a Kingston, Madeline. You’re a shareholder in King Corp. An owner of two of the biggest sports teams in the country. You won’t ever be just a player’s wife. The press will never leave you alone.” His tone is short but not mean. Not exactly loving either. But hey, at this point, it’s a start.

“And as a Kingston, you need to start acting like one. The press is going to follow you when you show up to a game. You know this. They’ve been doing it since you were a teenager. And that was before and after the Olympics.”

Yup. I’m still, apparently, a disappointment. “Listen, I think I understand what you’re saying. And I’ll try to handle it better. In my defense, I haven’t exactly been married to a player before, and this is all new to me. But that advice goes both ways. If I’m willing to try to see your point, it would be really nice if the family could try to see mine.”

“Everyone loves you, kid,” he tells me, like that makes it better.

“But that’s the problem, Max. I’m a grown woman, not a kid. You all seem to forget I’ve had the benefit of watching you all go through hell to get your happily-ever-afters. You also forget that I’m very good at math, and I have an excellent memory. Your wife was twenty-three when you met her. And you were older than my husband. So you may want to back off.”

He sits quietly on the other end of the phone while I roll down the window of the town car and watch the people all file out of their cars and into the arena. “Listen, Max. I’ve got to go. The game’s going to start soon.”

“Point taken.”

“What?” I ask him, confused.

“You’re right. Daphne was twenty-three when we met, and not everyone was onboard with our relationship.”

“And did you give her up?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“If I had, we wouldn’t have Serena.”

“Nope. You sure wouldn’t, big brother. Think about that while I’m thinking about what you said. I really do have to go though. I want to catch some of the warm-up.”

“Love you, Madeline. You sure you don’t want me to get you into the box with the staff?”

“No, thank you. I got myself a ticket right by one of the nets. Talk soon.” I end the call, and for a brief moment, I think maybe, just maybe, there’s some hope with my family.

That’s forgotten the minute I get out of the car and a million flashes go off in my face.

“Madeline, look over here.”

“Lindy, is that Easton’s jersey?”

Lindy, are you pregnant?”

“Did you have to get married?”

Lindy. Lindy. Did you marry him to get him traded?”

Questions fly at me from every direction, and the security at the VIP gate ushers me through. Shit. It’s never been like that before. I show the guard my ticket and lanyard. Max thinks he’s the only one capable of making a call. But there was no way I was going to my first game, watching my husband play for my team, without pulling a few strings.

I’m escorted through the cavernous halls and brought to the Revolution’s bench, where Brynlee stands with Mason, the head physical therapist. Her face lights up when she sees me, and I rush over to hug her.

“I’m so excited you made it.” She points next to herself. “You know Mason, right?”

“Yes, we’ve met.” I smile at Mason and offer him my hand.

“Nice to see you, Miss Kingston.”

“Actually, it’s Hayes now,” I correct him with such a giddy smile, I can’t hold it back when I look at Bryn.

Her eyes widen, and she turns to Mason. “Do you mind if I . . .” She points to me.

“Go ahead. We’re fine. Just don’t go far.”

She takes my hand and moves down to the other end of the bench behind the sin bin. “Umm . . . okay, Mrs. Hayes. I think you need to spill the deets. Does this mean everything went well last night? I mean, I read the Kronicles this morning, and the pictures they had of you two last night looked hot. Like seriously hot. But when I didn’t hear from you all day, I wasn’t sure.”

I look out onto the ice and immediately find Easton stretching. “Oh yeah. Things went really well. It was amazing, Bryn.”

“Amazing enough to introduce yourself as Mrs. Hayes? Does that mean you’re done asking for an annulment?”

“I remembered everything, Bryn. Everything. So yeah, no more talk of annulments.”

She links her arm through mine and looks out over the ice at the team. “So you guys are good?”

“Yeah.” I smile, thinking about last night. “I think so. We kinda went about it backward. But I think it’s going to work for us.”

“Okay. Then you need to deal with the family when you get back to Kroydon Hills.”

“Come on, can’t you let me just enjoy tonight? I’ve already dealt with Max. Let that be enough for one day,” I beg, not in the mood for another lecture.

“Lindy . . . Easton hit Jace in the locker room. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I had to make sure Jace didn’t have a cracked jaw. And I totally heard Coach Fitz give Jace and Easton hell. It was bad.”

Just then my brother skates over to us and bangs against the boards. “Hey, sis.”

“Jace Joseph Kingston. You dick. Why’s your jaw bruised?” I demand, and the fucker skates away from me backward with a shrug, like he can’t hear me. “I’m gonna kill him.”

The music changes, and the guys start to skate over toward the bench.

Brynlee squeezes my hand. “I’ve got to get back. You need help finding your seat?”

“Nope. I’m good. See you at home when you get back.”

“K.”

I take a step back as Easton smacks the glass between us.

I kiss my hand and line it up with his. “Kick ass, baby.”