Hot Puck, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel

Eden pushed through the front door of Capital Ambulance at six p.m. and slid out of her parka. After a full day of school, she was tired, but still excited about her shift.

The building sat on a corner in downtown DC a few blocks west of the White House in an area of large office buildings and newer brick townhomes. Once a single-family home, the building had been renovated by the company into an industrial ambulance station with living quarters for the crew.

She relaxed into the warmth of the space as she walked through the foyer and stepped into the front office, a room that doubled as a secondary living space for the staff. Tori, one of her favorite coworkers, sat on the arm of a recliner, chatting with Tommy, one of the EMTs Eden and Tori were relieving for the night.

Eden stopped and smiled wide, offering an excited “Guess what today is.”

Tori pushed to her feet and threw her hands in the air. “Your last day. Yay!”

She ran to Eden, and they hugged, then laughed over their excitement for such a minor milestone. All the EMTs at Capital were great, but she and Tori had become best friends, and Eden loved their shifts together.

“What?” Clint, Tommy’s partner the night before, stepped in from the kitchen, his voice giving away shock and concern. “Eden, you’re not leaving us.”

Tori pulled away but kept an arm tight around Eden’s shoulders. “No way. Well, at least not yet. Today’s the last day she needs to qualify for the paramedic didactic program.” She turned her bright smile on Eden. “We’re going to get you those last five patients tonight even if we have to go trolling the homeless alleys for them.”

“Man,” Tommy said, pushing from the sofa, “that sounds like a blast. Sorry I can’t stay. I’ve got a hamster to wash.”

Clint wandered that direction, pushed his arms into his jacket and picked up the duffel sitting by the door. “Is that what the flowers are for? We thought maybe it was your birthday or something.”

Flowers. Eden took a fist straight to the solar plexus.

A chill raced through her belly. Her breath whooshed out, and her smile dropped. She glanced at Tori and forced enough air into her lungs to ask, “What flowers?”

Her friend’s smile had disappeared too. Tori shook her head. “I just got here.”

Eden’s hands fisted so hard, her nails bit into her palms. She hadn’t been notified of any parole hearing, and John wouldn’t be released for at least ten more years without one.

She glanced between Tommy and Clint. “Who… Who sent them?”

“Don’t know,” Clint said. “Kylie was here when they came.”

Kylie, another EMT, wouldn’t be coming on again until tomorrow night.

Tori picked up the slack for Eden with an upbeat “Then we’ll have to investigate.”

“They’re in the rec room,” Tommy said, picking up a backpack on the floor beside the chair. He started for the door with “Try not to stir up too much trouble tonight, ladies.”

Clint followed Tommy out the door while the two men agreed to meet up for a game of hoops the next morning.

As soon as the door closed behind them, a deafening silence hung in the air.

“Were you notified?” Tori asked, her voice vibrating with the same tension humming inside Eden. “Is he out?”

“No.” Eden’s throat tightened. Her heart beat too quickly. “I don’t know.”

If he knew where she was, she’d have to get a restraining order. She’d have to watch her back even more than she did already. If he showed signs of following through on the threat he’d made while they’d dragged him from the courtroom, she’d have to relocate. She’d have to put her life on hold—again—and just when she was so close to moving up and moving on.

Tori reached out and gave Eden’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “One step at a time. You’ve handled this before. You can handle it again.”

But she shouldn’t have to, and the thought that she might stoked both fury and terror. She exhaled and gave Tori a nod, then headed toward a larger room in the back of the house.

The staff had designated this as the rec room because it was where all their entertainment was housed—television, stereo, movie collection, Xbox, Nintendo, video games, ping-pong table, dartboard. Every EMT brought some form of distraction to pass the time in this home away from home.

Eden stepped down into the room, and her gaze immediately latched on to the only bright spot—a bouquet sitting on the poker table. Her feet halted, and her chest squeezed.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. The arrangement was both elaborate and extravagant—a huge spray of lilies and lilacs, foxglove and delphinium, and more roses than she’d ever seen together at one time.

“Good Lord.” Tori’s voice broke into the fear clouding Eden’s mind. “That’s…ridiculous.”

Eden couldn’t make her feet move forward. Her heart pounded in her ears. Fear tumbled through her like a waterfall.

Tori slid a hand over Eden’s shoulder, and she flinched. Shame and anger heated Eden’s face, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Sorry.”

“Do you want me to open the card?”

Eden took a breath, then blew it out in a slow stream. Tears of fear burned her eyes. She threaded her fingers together and twisted her hands. Then she cleared her throat and said, “Please.”

Tori moved toward the flowers and searched among the blooms for a card. It would be just like John not to leave one. After all the bouquets he’d sent the morning after to smooth things over—as if flower petals could heal cuts and bruises and scars on her psyche—he knew she would assume they were from him.

Eden crossed one arm over her middle and lifted her other hand to the back of her neck. She threaded her fingers into her hair and ran her fingertips over the scar there.

Tori plucked a small white envelope from the middle of the bouquet. “Jeez, almost couldn’t find it in this forest.”

She tossed a nervous look at Eden, then tore the envelope and pulled out the small card. Eden closed her hands into fists, her gaze intense on Tori’s expression.

Her dark brows pulled down, and she shot a look at Eden. “You’re definitely not telling me something. Who’s…Beckett?”

The name hit Eden sideways. Beckett? Beckett Croft had sent her flowers?

That was even harder to believe than John finding a way to send them from prison. Croft had seemed too focused on the challenge of getting Eden to swoon over him to think outside himself. Even if he’d considered a thank-you gesture as patients occasionally did, a full week had passed since then, and he was already playing again. Eden had seen his return to the ice on the news.

She released a long breath of relief, but she was still shaky. “What does it say?”

Tori lowered her gaze to the card and read. “‘We had a rocky intro. I’d like a chance to show you my better side. I sometimes chill at Top Shelf after home games. Or call me for a more private meeting.’” She flipped the card over. “‘Our schedules probably aren’t overly compatible, but I’d love to sneak in a stolen moment with you.’” Tori read off a phone number. “And in parentheses underneath it says, ‘My personal cell. Please don’t share.’”

The knot in her gut unwound a little more, and Eden breathed easier. Her lips tipped up a little when she remembered Beckett’s lighter side once he’d been pulled away from the ice. Then heat stirred when she remembered his hard body, handsome face, and overwhelming confidence. Sure, she’d fantasized about him over the last week. Who wouldn’t?

“Sneak in a stolen moment?” Tori lifted her hands out to the sides with a what-the-hell look on her face. “What rocky intro? Beckett who? Why didn’t you tell me about this? He sounds ridiculously dreamy.”

He did sound pretty damned dreamy. And so did sneaking in a stolen moment with him. Until her mind filled with images of his brutality on the ice.

Eden really didn’t feel like rehashing her meeting with Beckett, but by the look on Tori’s face… She relented with a sigh. “He’s one of the Rough Riders. The one Gabe and I had to take in to the hospital.”

Tori opened her mouth to say something, but her gaze hazed over, and after a long, agonizing moment, she finally managed, “Oh…”

Eden had shared pieces of her traumatic past with Tori. She huffed a humorless laugh. “Exactly.”

Tori regrouped, pressed one hand to her hip, and tapped her chin with the corner of the card. “Well…” Tilting her head, she lowered her gaze to the floor, her brow pressed into a concerned frown. “Hmm…”

Their pagers sounded simultaneously. Eden was grateful for the distraction. “There’s one of my last five.” She pulled the pager from her belt and read the call. “Woman down, Dupont Circle.”

Tori passed Eden on her way toward the door and their ambulance beyond, holding the card out to her. “We’re not done talking about this.”

Eden stuffed the card into her pants pocket and followed, pulling up the address of their call on her phone along with potential routes to the location.

She climbed into the passenger’s side and fastened her seat belt as Tori pulled out of the garage. “Take 23rd to NW O to 20th. The whole freaking map is red tonight.”

“What else is new?” Tori flipped on the sirens while Eden took control of the radio, informing dispatch they were en route.

“You know he’s not John,” Tori said, continuing their conversation about Beckett as she sped down Q Street toward the heart of DC. “Just because he’s a hockey player doesn’t mean—”

“He’s an enforcer.” The last word felt so uncomfortable coming out of Eden’s mouth. “Gabe explained it to me. He’s the guy on the team who—”

“Fights,” Tori finished. “I’ve heard.”

“Figures, right?” The first guy who’d created any kind of interest in her in two years had violence in his blood. “Am I a freaking magnet for these guys or something?”

“It’s not like you’ve dated dozens of guys and they’ve all been bullies.” Tori slowed, checked an intersection, and pushed through. “Do you like him?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“You know what I mean. Was there a spark?”

“He was an ass the first fifteen minutes, pissed they’d pulled him out of the game. When he calmed down, he was more tolerable, but he was arrogant, cocky. You know the type.”

“Sure—successful, driven, good-looking, built. The kind of accomplished guy who’s got something to be cocky about.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to be.”

They approached an intersection where cars were stacked at a red light. Tori pulled into the oncoming lane to pass. Once she was on the correct side of the road again, she said, “He had to be tolerable or you would have called him a creep or a jerk or a loser by now. Let me ask it this way, if he wasn’t a hockey player, would you be interested in seeing him?”

That turned Eden’s mind a different direction. As the siren blared in the background, Beckett’s smile flashed in her head. Then the way his brown eyes lightened when he laughed. A pang of desire hit Eden. A pang that grew to a craving when she thought of the fantasies she’d created over the last week involving him. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Eden,” Tori said, her tone a compassionate reprimand. “It’s been two years. You left California so you could have a life, but all you do is work and study. That’s not a life.”

“I know,” she grumbled. She wasn’t living, she was existing. Had been from the moment she’d escaped to the East Coast. She kept telling herself she’d venture out when she could cut back on work or when school eased up, but that never happened. And she was tired of the isolation, the stress, the loneliness. There was no fun, no relaxation, no love in her life. Her friends were all from work or school, and they were all superficial. All except Tori. “But, honestly, the thought of that whole boyfriend thing…” She shuddered with an involuntary sound of aversion. “Makes me feel all…boxed in. Makes me want to squirm to get out.”

“Screw the boyfriend idea. How about a hookup buddy? He seems like the prime candidate for a booty call. He’s hot, he travels, he’s got a demanding career. Not to mention he’s intensely fit, so you know he can go the distance in bed, if you know what I mean.”

Oh man, did Eden know what Tori meant. The thought had heat building between her legs. It had been so long since she’d had good sex. Fun, carefree, fulfilling, healthy sex. And, damn, she missed that part of her life.

“Hmmm.” Her gaze blurred over the street through the windshield as Tori navigated into a residential area. “A hookup situation does sound like a better option.” At least it did until her memory flashed with the look on his handsome face when he’d rammed the other player into the boards. “Maybe just not with this guy. If you’d seen him on the ice, I think you’d agree.” She scanned the numbers on the street. “It’s the third town house on the left. The one with the shiny black door.”

Tori pulled to a stop at the curb and put the rig into Park. “Don’t make any decisions right now. Just thank him for the flowers and leave it open-ended. See where it goes.”

They both bailed out of the truck to open the back. Tori dragged out the stretcher, and Eden tossed the jump bag on top, then grabbed the oxygen tank and followed Tori toward the house.

“Eden,” Tori nagged. “Promise me you’ll at least consider it.”

“Yes, fine.” She took hold of the foot of the gurney and started up the brick steps. A small part of her was relieved Tori made the demand. Because it gave Eden permission to consider something her common sense wouldn’t. “I’ll think about it.”

An older African-American man stood on the porch, holding the storm door open.

“My wife,” he said, his voice tight with worry. “She’s having trouble breathing.”

And just like that, all thoughts of hooking up with Beckett Croft faded into the background.