Trouble : Boston Bolts Hockey

Track 2

BAD LIAR

“Did you see how many reporters were here?” Shawn asks as we finish tidying up the station. The event raised an insane amount of money. Thank fuck. Already, the constant heartburn that plagues me has eased up a bit. Multiple massive fires over the last year have wiped out just about all of our resources, and we’ve been running on fumes. If the loss of our chief in a fire weren’t heartbreaking enough, add to it the dent it put in the number of applications we’ve received. People are scared, and I can’t blame them. Then, to make matters worse, even if we had applicants, we haven’t had the money to hire any. We need recruits. Volunteers aren’t going to cut it any longer. Our town is over thirty miles wide, and the buildings downtown date back to the Civil War. Grandfathered electrical, lead paint, and empty warehouses make fires not only more likely but also much more likely to spread when they get going.

We need properly trained people and updated equipment.

After tonight, I’ll rest a little easier. Not only did Beckett’s event bring in hundreds of thousands of dollars, but Shawn was right about the media coverage being huge. With any luck, we’ll receive more donations once our charming town is featured on the news.

“Not your scene?” I joke.

Shawn laughs as he leans against the fire engine. “Even less so yours.”

He isn’t wrong. Interacting with anyone, let alone the media, all but makes me break out in hives. But Shawn was an All-Star pitcher for LA for years until his career ended after a car crash, so it’s hard to wrap my head around how little he likes the media.

“You coming to Thames?” I ask, flipping off the overhead lights in the bay.

He shakes his head. “Jules needs help getting ready for the morning rush. It’ll be a madhouse with so many visitors in town.”

His girlfriend owns a bakery and makes the most incredible donuts. I should tell Melina about them. Or ask Shawn to set some aside. Shit. I should have thought of that beforehand. If I get called out tonight, there won’t be much for her to eat in the morning. I grip the back of my neck to ease the tension there. Dammit. Maybe I should head to the grocery store now and stock up.

I blow out a breath, willing my anxiety to abate. “Think you could set aside a few tonight? I can send one of the rookies over to pick them up in the morning.”

Shawn claps me on the back, his smile easy. “You got it.”

Once he leaves and the place is quiet, I head out into the crisp winter night. Most of downtown is walkable, and the bar parking lot is likely a zoo, so I make my way on foot.

Due to our location near the water, we rarely get snow, but the scent of cold lingers in the air, signaling that we could get a dusting.

I dig my hands into my pockets, hunch my shoulders to protect myself from the cold, and nod to people as I pass. Most know who I am, and the faces are familiar to me since I’ve lived here my entire life, but I’m a man of few words, and people tire of trying to make conversation with a wall.

Most of the storefronts are dark this late. Only the bars on Hope Street create a buzz of noise. As soon as the harbor comes into view with the bar lit up against the dark water, I pick up my pace.

It’s as if my body knows everyone inside is having fun. Everyone is laughing. Cade and Melina are laughing. And I’m missing it.

As I step inside, the music and loud chatter drown out all my thoughts. I search the bar for Cade, his hockey players, or my firefighters, but it’s Melina who catches my attention. She’s by the bar, surrounded by a group of men, her tongue poking out from one side of her mouth as she studies something with great effort.

She flicks what appears to be a quarter, and the crowd around her cheers. She squeals in delight, and her cheeks lift. I’m halfway to her when a set of hands circles her waist and lifts her up into the air. I’m about to reach for the guy, push him off, when I realize it’s Cade. He’s shed his Bolts sweatshirt, and now he’s in nothing but a black T-shirt, jeans, and his signature backward Bolts hat.

Melina, who’s now dangling over his shoulder, her legs flailing, smacks his ass repeatedly. “Put me down!”

“No can do, rock star,” he yells with a slap to her ass. He spins in a circle, practically walking right into my chest.

I put my hands up to keep him from crashing into me.

His grin widens. “Dec,” he yells, clearly already buzzed. It’s not surprising. Cade is a fun guy, and he’s charming as fuck. This is his MO. I’m not even a little surprised that he’s got an international pop star in his arms after knowing her for only a few hours.

Melina peers around one side of him, still upside down, and grins at me. “Hi, Chief.”

Maybe it’s the way she says Chief or the slight flirtation to her tone. Maybe it’s her position, draped over Cade’s shoulder. Or maybe it’s how Cade is gripping her thighs and wearing a big smile. Regardless, I can’t help the way my lips twitch. “I see you’re going to be trouble.”

She pushes out her lower lip in a mock pout, but before she can reply, Cade walks away.

“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder. “The guys have a table by the fireplace.”

I follow him through the crowd, not at all surprised by the way it parts as we go. Melina peeks up at me and winks, then pinches Cade’s ass. He swats her again, and I cough out a laugh. Like he’s surprised by the sound, Cade eyes me over his shoulder, though he keeps moving.

He stops in front of an oversized booth where Brooks Langfield and his fiancée Sara sit on one side, and Aiden and his wife Lennox sit on the other. As soon as Lennox spots us, she’s scooting over and patting the vinyl cushion. “Put her here.”

In one quick move, Cade drags her down his body, then spins her as he drops into the seat. As he settles, she’s sitting on his lap, his hand splayed across her stomach.

“You think you raised enough money?” Brooks asks as I drag a chair from a nearby table and situate it at the end of the booth. Brooks is the Bolts’ goalie and so very unlike his oldest brother, Beckett. He’s always smiling and chatty.

“If we didn’t, I’m sure your brother will cover it,” Cade answers for me, his thumb stroking along the skin just above Melina’s waistband. Every time his finger moves up, her shirt shifts.

“The surprise performance by Mel and Lake didn’t hurt. The holiday music was genius,” Lennox says.

A blush creeps up Melina’s chest at the mention of her name. She turns away from Lennox and into her own shoulder, her head on Cade’s chest, and her green eyes catch mine.

With her lip caught between her teeth, she gives me a soft smile.

I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with her intense focus on me. I like watching her, even when she’s sitting on his lap. Maybe because she’s on his lap. But I don’t like being watched.

“This town is awesome,” Aiden says from his spot in the corner of the booth. He’s got his arm around Lennox’s shoulder. “I’m glad we had time to come out here before our game.”

“Boston tomorrow, then Philly, right?” Lennox asks, nuzzling into his neck. “I can never remember where he’ll be on any given week,” she says to Melina. “Unlike this lucky bitch”—she points a pink-painted nail at Sara, who, like my sister did for so long, travels with the team as their head of PR—“I don’t get to travel with my husband.”

Aiden presses a kiss to her forehead. “You can travel with me anytime. But I get it. You don’t want to be a trophy wife, no matter how much I beg.”

Lennox shrugs her shoulders in an exaggerated manner, her pink hair fanning across her neck. “I would make an excellent trophy.”

“That’s what I’m telling ya,” Aiden crows as the rest of the group laughs.

“What’s your favorite city?” Melina asks Cade.

There I go, back to watching the two of them together.

He drops his head back against the bench seat, studying the ceiling. “Hmm,” he says, dragging the sound out. “I love renting a motorcycle in Vegas and disappearing into the mountains. And hiking before sunrise in Denver is unreal. Don’t even get me started on the surfing in La Jolla.”

Sara pushes forward, resting her forearms on the table. “You’ve done all those things? How?”

Cade grins. “While you two are off screwing around before away games,” he says, pointing to his goalie, “I spend time exploring each city.”

Brooks has the decency to blush, but Sara just shrugs. “We like public sex, so sue us.”

I practically choke on my own spit at that flippant admission. I cough and gasp for air. When I can breathe again, I find Cade watching me in amusement.

“I like exploring,” he says, his tone a little dark and full of hidden meaning. When he turns back to the group, his voice is casual again. “I used to go alone, but then Daniel discovered my routine, and now he joins me.”

“Wait,” Aiden says, leaning around Lennox. “You and Daniel hang out before games without me?”

With a groan, Cade roughs a hand down his face. “Fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

Melina shakes with laughter on top of him.

“You think this is funny?” he asks, tickling her sides. “This idiot is going to be following me around singing songs he makes up about every city we’re in now.”

Aiden shrugs, a lazy grin on his face. “Guilty.”

The group falls into a fit of laughter.

I watch on, here but not really part of their banter. This is how I exist. At the station, the guys all talk around me, half the time probably forgetting I’m even there. Which is good. I don’t want them to censor themselves around the boss. I like being in their presence, even though I rarely have anything to add.

Normally, when I speak, the mood grows serious. My tone often suggests action, not fun, I suppose.

Cade whispers in Melina’s ear, and her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink again. Fuck, would I love to see whether that color spreads to other parts of her body when she’s aroused the way she is right now.

How could any woman not be aroused around Cade? He oozes sex. I know exactly what they’ll be doing when we get back to my house.

I’m annoyed at the idea, but I’m more annoyed with myself.

Because it shouldn’t be hot.

I shouldn’t like the idea of his hands on her when I want my hands on her. But fuck, I’m half hard just watching her sit on his lap.

My perverse thoughts are interrupted by the flash of a camera. Without hesitating, I’m on my feet, immediately blocking Melina.

“What the fuck?” I growl at the man holding a camera and trying to shift around me for another shot. Guy’s got balls, I’ll give him that. I’m about to squeeze the life out of them, though.

To one side of me, Brooks puts up a hand, blocking the man’s attempt.

“I’ll say it again,” I grit out. “What the fuck?”

Fingers reach for my belt and tug. “It’s okay,” Melina says. She leans forward and gives the man a small smile. “We’re trying to have dinner. Ask next time, and I’ll be happy to let you take a picture.”

My jaw hardens, and my chest tightens. Fuck. She’s used to this kind of intrusion. Is this how her life always is? She’s been on for hours, singing for our town, taking pictures and signing autographs with Lake, answering the press’s many questions. After all that, she’s trying to relax with people she trusts. Can’t they just let her have a drink in peace?

“Who’s the guy?” the man says, unaware of how close to a fist in the face he’s coming.

Melina’s responding laugh isn’t light like the ones she’s let out all night. This one is rehearsed, tight. “You know the rules. We leave civilians alone.”

With a glance at his phone, the guy breaks into a smarmy smile that tells me I won’t like the next thing out of his mouth. “My source says he’s Cade Fitzgerald, assistant coach of the Boston Bolts.” One by one, he scans the people at the table, his eyes getting brighter as he goes. He’s no doubt realized he’s hit the jackpot. Not only is Melina here, but so are Aiden and Brooks, two of the NHL’s most famous players. “He your boyfriend, or is he just keeping you company for the night?”

“Watch your mouth,” I warn, my tone deadly now, my blood pressure spiking.

Cade presses a hand to my back. “I got this.”

My every cell is telling me not to move, to protect my people. But the way he’s touching me leaves me little choice. His touch burns my skin, even through my T-shirt. With a sigh, I step to the side, relinquishing control to my best friend.

Cade nods at the reporter. “Boyfriend.”

It takes all my willpower not to whip around and shout out another what the fuck? Never in his life has Cade been anyone’s boyfriend, and I know for a fact he’s not hers.

Melina bites her lip shyly. “It’s new, though. So if you could keep it quiet…” She winks at the reporter like he’s in on this secret.

My blood boils. Reporters don’t keep secrets. This is reckless. Stupid and reckless. The girl is supposed to be in hiding because she has a stalker. Instead, the two of them have been flirting and flaunting themselves. Now they’ve drawn a big-ass bull’s-eye on my little town. Everyone will know where she’s hiding. I should have shut down the press at the event earlier. I should have stopped her from singing. But, fuck, selfishly, I was focused on how much good this event could do for the town.

Now I realize how reckless that was.

Of course, it took seeing the two of them claim each other for me to feel that way.

Hypocrite.

Nothing I say right now will be helpful, so I stalk to the bar and order a drink.

As if they have no idea the storm they’ve likely just caused, the group falls back into easy banter and laughter.

I sit at the bar, sipping my whiskey, watching. Because that’s all I ever do.

“They’re hot together,” Hailey says, leaning across the bar, following my line of sight.

I turn back to her and shrug noncommittally. “Who?”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, Chief, you’re a funny one.”

Then she disappears to check on her other patrons.

She’s wrong. I’m not the funny one. And there’s nothing funny about the way I’m feeling right now. So instead of heading back to the table, I shoot a text to Cade, telling him I’ll see them at home. Then I head back out into the cold winter night.

Alone.