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"Promise." I place my much larger palm over hers and squeeze gently. She seems satisfied. Enough to pull her hand from mine, and with a last hug for Tiny, she allows her ma to lead her toward the others.
Knight turns to me, and says, "Right, then. I do need to go, as well. But first, I need to point out that hockey is your first love. Not a day went by in the military when you didn’t follow news of the sport from around the world. You’re the only man I know who tunes in regardless of who is playing."
"So?" I raise a shoulder.
"So, I don’t know of anyone else who lives and breathes the game as much as you. You’re perfect to lead the team into the League."
The League is the European equivalent of the Cup in the U.S. Competition is fierce. The very fact that he thinks the man who hasn’t competed professionally in well over five years stands a chance of playing well, let alone leading the team to victory, shows how deluded he man is.
I open my mouth to tell him so, but he shakes his head. "You know that’s the only reason you were on the military’s ice hockey team."
"It was the best way of working out." I raise a shoulder.
"Bull-fucking-shit," both Knight and Cade say at the same time.
I chuckle. "Fine, so it’s because I love playing on the ice. That doesn’t mean I want to compete on a professional level."
Knight scans my features. "Think about it. Think about what you want, mofo. After all these years of doing what's expected of you, do the thing you want to do, in here—" He slaps his palm into the space over my heart, and I hesitate.
"Where is this coming from?" I crack my neck. "And how do you know I’m not doing exactly what I want right now?"
"You mean babysitting Hollywood stars—"
"It’s called being a bodyguard," I snap.
"And not that I don’t love our resident silver screen icons"—he nods to where my principals, aka Solene, the biggest pop star since Taylor Swift, and her fiancé Declan, the leading superstar of Hollywood, are currently sucking face in an armchair across the room—"but even you have to admit it doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling you get when you mow down the opposition and you swing the puck home."
I'm bombarded by images of the last time I was on ice at the final of the Cup as the centerman of my team—controlling the pace of the game, impacting both the offensive and defensive positions, assisting the players on my team, winning face-offs, leading breakouts, throwing that final puck toward the goal… Then walking off the ice and never looking back. What happened that day is something I don’t like to revisit. It’s the reason I’ve avoided playing professionally since. Am I ready to go back and finally face the ghost of what happened that day? I’m not sure, to be honest.
I open my mouth, but Knight claps my shoulder. "Don’t answer yet. There’s one more thing you should know—" He breaks off to look over my shoulder. "Giorgina, you’re just in time."
3
Giorgina
"In time for what?" I strut over to them—because that’s the only way I can walk in these heels. I spent half a month’s salary on them, so might as well as make the most of them, right? "What are you gentleman conspiring about?"
Cade flashes me a smile. "I've heard so much about you from Abby, but we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Cade."
"Giorgina." I hold out my hand. "You can call me—"
"—Giorgina," Rick snaps.
I shoot him a shocked glance. What’s wrong with this man? He’s even angrier than the other times I’ve seen him.
"Gio, is it?" Cade’s grin widens. He reaches for my hand, but Rick snaps his fingers, and the Great Dane lumbers to his feet and steps between me and Cade.
"What the—?" I gape.
Cade laughs. "Sending a mutt to do your dirty work, hmm?" He shoots Rick an amused glance. "I’m off to kiss my wife. I haven’t done so in nearly ten minutes, so I need to remedy that." He tips his head in my direction. "Nice to meet you Giorgina. Don’t let Rick’s bad attitude color your opinion about the rest of us."
Rick glowers.
Knight chuckles.
Cade swaggers off, and I follow his progress. He reaches Abby, draws her in, then bends her over in a theatrical move and kisses her. By the time he straightens, Abby’s laughing.
Michael Sovrano and his wife Karma approach them. Michael’s a scary mofo, with that scar around his throat and dark, penetrating eyes that seem to follow you wherever you are in the room. He’s earned his reputation as the ex-head of theCosa Nostraand now claims to have turned legit. "Claims" being the operative word. I tend to believe him, given he did so to ensure the safety of his wife and child—not to mention, the second one they have on the way. He’s a reformed man, and while you wouldn’t know it from his looks, it comes through in how his features soften when he takes in his wife.
