Winning Whitney Read online

  Winning Whitney

  Alaska Blizzard Book 3

  Kat Mizera

  Copyright © 2018 by Kat Mizera

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover Design: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  Editing: Tera Cuskaden, Virginia Tesi Carey

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from “Hockey Holidays” Anthology (Releasing 11/13/18).

  Also by Kat Mizera

  Prologue

  Four years ago

  * * *

  She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the entire city. Jackson “Jake” Carruthers hadn’t come out with his teammates looking for a woman, but the blonde standing at the bar was absolutely stunning. He’d done a double take the moment he’d walked in and his friends had zeroed in on her immediately, but she’d brushed them all off. He and his buddies had come to this popular Boston nightclub to let off a little steam, and though he would’ve liked to do some of that himself, the uncertain situation in his personal life made him unwilling to test the dating waters so soon. It was a damn shame, too, because the blonde took his breath away.

  When she fixed a pair of aqua eyes on him, he momentarily forgot what he’d been thinking about. He’d never been tongue-tied in front of a woman before but this one had twisted him into a knot with a freakin’ look. He needed to get away from her immediately.

  “Are you next?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

  “Excuse me?” He had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Your friends all took turns hitting on me. I wondered if you were next.”

  He shook his head. “I’m just here for a couple drinks. I have an early flight tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s refreshing.” She smiled and he was even more enthralled. She was the type of woman who made men do stupid things and he was too old—too experienced—to do something stupid. One drink, a few minutes of conversation, and he’d remember why he didn’t pick up gorgeous women at bars.

  “I’ll buy you a drink anyway,” he said graciously, determined to find fault with her so he could stop staring like a lovesick teenager.

  “I don’t drink alcohol, but I’d love a Coke mixed with soda water.”

  He absently motioned to the bartender and repeated her order, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “My name is Whitney, and yes, I come here often.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Jake didn’t know how to respond at first, but then he laughed.

  “I’m Jackson.”

  He wasn’t sure why he gave her his full name instead of using the name everyone else used, but he didn’t want her to know he was Jake Carruthers the NHL player—he just wanted to be Jack tonight. He’d taken on the nickname of Jake specifically to keep a little separation between his personal and professional lives but everything about this woman felt personal.

  She cocked her head. “You don’t look like a Jackson, but you sound like one.”

  “What does a Jackson sound like?” he asked curiously.

  “Throaty, kind of deep, a little on the edgy side.”

  “Close enough, I suppose.”

  “I haven’t seen you around before. Vacation or business or something else?”

  “Business mixed with a little pleasure. What about you?”

  As if road trips were like other business trips and going to a nightclub with his teammates was just another night out. His single friends on the team partied hard, and he’d never gone out with them like this before since he’d been married before being picked up by the NHL.

  “I come here a lot because I love to dance and the guys at the door let me in even though I’m not old enough to drink.”

  His stomach knotted. How the hell old was she?

  “I’m almost twenty-one.” She laughed at the look on his face. “I don’t drink when I’m here, just in case it ever gets raided.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “I wind up being a cheap date.” She downed her soda and flashed him another smile. “Wanna dance or are you looking for someone who’s actually going to put out? Because that’s not me and my feelings won’t be hurt either way.”

  “I’d rather dance with you knowing I’m not getting laid than sit at the bar with my friends while they make fools of themselves.” He held out his hand and led her to the dance floor. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but this girl had him transfixed. It had been so long since he’d clicked like this with anyone, he didn’t care if she was a tease, a nun, or a transvestite. Sex wasn’t on his radar right now.

  He and his estranged wife had just had their fifth miscarriage in four years, and instead of trying to heal or recover, she’d immediately started talking about getting pregnant again. Jake had tried everything to get her to relax, to understand that having a baby wasn’t a priority and she should try to enjoy the life they had. There would be plenty of time for kids in the future and maybe giving her body a break would be beneficial in more ways than one. The doctors had all said it would be best to slow down so the repeated miscarriages wouldn’t cause permanent damage, but she didn’t listen. Jake had worked hard to show her he loved her whether they had children or not, but nothing was ever enough. When she’d refused counseling, started doubling up on the fertility drugs the doctor had given her, and began poking holes in the condoms he had in the bathroom, he hadn’t been able to take anymore and finally filed for divorce.

  He’d tried to be there for her but she pushed him away at every turn unless they were having sex, and it had become exhausting. Between her ovulation schedules and a complete loss of romance and intimacy, Addy had made him almost start to hate sex. He’d had enough and told her so, and her response had been to tell him he could leave if he refused to help her have the baby she so desperately wanted. All of which led him to this club tonight, dancing with a gorgeous woman who might temporarily help him forget the pain and regret associated with his failed marriage.

  Prince’s “Erotic City” came on and Whitney turned, pressing her back to his front and lifting her arms. Jake followed her movements, letting her lead. He caught the faint aroma of her perfume, something feminine but not flowery or overpowering, just a hint of the scent reaching him as she moved. Her hair was soft and silky, falling just below her shoulders, accentuating a slender neck that led down to a shapely torso.

  His hands moved to her hips of their own volition. He couldn’t seem to help himself. Touching her was like taking his next breath, and
he wasn’t able to stop. She swung a look over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips as she sang along to the song. Her movements were suggestive but not overt, somehow managing to keep a balance between sexy and platonic. She was close, but not grinding against him, and though they danced easily, there was no true contact beyond where his hands touched her hips.

  When the song was over she moved back toward the bar, and he followed, wondering what the hell kind of spell she’d cast on him. He’d never cheated on his wife, but tonight he would have given his left nut to be with this girl. If he had any sense, he would have danced with her once, paid for the soda she’d ordered, and walked away. Instead, he was following her back to the bar like a lost puppy.

  They danced for hours, to everything from pop to hip hop to rock. It was midnight when the DJ switched to a slow song. At this point, they were so comfortable together she moved right into his arms. They’d laughed and talked in between dances and she was funny, bright, and engaging. She didn’t ask a lot of questions or offer much information about herself, but he’d discovered she attended Harvard. She didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up but was majoring in business. That was about all she’d told him so he’d let it drop since he didn’t want to talk about what he did for a living. His life was far too complicated and this gorgeous woman who wanted to dance but didn’t drink and wasn’t interested in sex relaxed him.

  “I should probably get going,” she said as the clock struck two. “I have a nine thirty class.”

  “Let me walk you to your car,” he said.

  “Okay.” She retrieved a purse and jacket from the bartender and Jake put a hand at the small of her back as they walked outside. The February air was icy cold, and she shivered against him. The need to slide his arm around her shoulders and pull her close was instinctive, and she didn’t resist, flashing a grateful smile.

  “Thanks for spending the evening with me,” he said as she stopped in front of an old Honda. “I enjoyed dancing with you.”

  “Thank you for putting up with my prudish sensibilities and sober personality.”

  “I didn’t even notice, to be honest.”

  Their eyes locked for a magical moment, and he swallowed. Damn, he wanted her like nobody’s business but she’d set a boundary and he was technically still married. Kind of.

  “What time do you leave town?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving his.

  “Eight thirty.”

  “I just got a notification on my phone that a storm’s coming. You may not be able to get out if you’re flying.”

  He frowned, pulling out his phone. Sure enough, there was a message from his coach, saying there was inclement weather on the way and they’d be on alert, waiting for a final determination from the airport on whether or not the plane could take off.

  “You’re right,” he said. “And this could be a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “Why good?” she asked, though the smile on her lips told him she already suspected.

  “We can spend more time together.”

  “And bad?”

  “We can spend more time together.”

  “Ah.” Her eyes were locked with his, barely blinking, and he fought against the urge to kiss her.

  He’d filed for divorce and moved out, so he was free to do whatever he wanted. The faintest trickle of guilt made him hesitate even though there was no doubt in his mind Whitney wanted him to make a move.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” she asked in a breathy whisper, her aqua eyes nearly blinding him.

  He was in so much trouble. “Fuck. Yes.”

  Her eyes closed as he leaned forward, her lips parted a fraction of an inch and then they were touching. It was the sweetest, most delectable thing he’d ever tasted and it took all his resolve to keep from devouring her. Instead, he used just the tip of his tongue, toying with hers slowly, gently, until she opened her mouth fully and took the lead. Just like when they’d danced, she knew exactly what she was doing, using a combination of skill with a touch of restraint. She was the very definition of perfection, from her gorgeous face to her sexy body, and now with the way it felt when they kissed. He was definitely in trouble.

  “Baby, I meant it when I said getting laid wasn’t a priority.”

  “You have a hotel room, Jackson?”

  “I do.”

  “Are we going there?”

  He looked up as the first flakes of snow started to fall. “We should probably decide sooner rather than later.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Whitney Sommers didn’t usually go home with men she met at bars, but Jackson wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met. He made love to her with the sweetest passion she’d ever experienced and when the call came that his flight had been cancelled until further notice, they spent thirty-six glorious hours together. In bed. On the floor. The shower. The chair by the window. Neither of them could get enough and by the next night, they were physically exhausted but strangely exhilarated.

  “You’re a nymphomaniac,” he declared as they sat on the bed eating the room service they’d ordered.

  “Me?” She shook her head. “I’m a sweet, innocent college girl. You’re the one who seduced me and wouldn’t let me out of bed.”

  He snorted. “Says the girl who attacked me in the shower.”

  “Oh whatever.” Her eyes twinkled as she laughed. “So what do you do, Jack? For real.”

  “I’m a professional athlete.”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. He didn’t seem like the type who had a different girl in every city, but she’d been wrong about men before.

  “You look disappointed,” he said after a minute.

  “I was hoping you were a boring accountant or something, but I guess not. You probably have women coming out of the woodwork.”

  “That’s not my thing.”

  “Why not?”

  He seemed to hesitate a long time. “Because I’m married,” he said at last.

  “What?” She stared at him in shock.

  “Getting divorced,” he added quickly. “We separated almost three months ago and this is the first and only time I’ve been with anyone else. We’re still working out the financial details, but we’re not together anymore.”

  “Jesus.” She got to her feet and started looking for her clothes.

  “Whitney, wait. Please.”

  “You’re married.” She shook her head. “This is why I have a no-sex rule. This shit always happens to me. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.” She was talking more to herself than to him, all while fumbling around the room searching for her things.

  “Whitney, please. I swear to you, I’m getting a divorce. We don’t live together anymore and the paperwork is all in place.”

  She paused, turning to stare at him. “You lied to me.”

  “You never asked.”

  “That’s lying by omission.” She dug her shoes out from under the desk and put them on.

  “Babe, it’s the middle of the night and still snowing—where are you going?”

  “Home. I can walk from here. I’ll come back and get my car when the storm is over.” She picked up her purse.

  “Whitney, I’m sorry, but I swear to you, I’m getting a divorce.”

  She turned to the desk and grabbed the pen and notepad provided by the hotel. “When you’re legally divorced and can send me a copy of the decree, call me.” She handed him her number as she looked into his handsome face. “Until then, I’m truly not that kind of girl.”

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  * * *

  A baby’s cry woke Whitney from a light slumber and she instantly sat up, sliding her feet into her slippers. Winter in Alaska was freakin’ cold, and even though she’d lived in Boston for five years, it was different here. She padded into the room next to hers and gently lifted the fussy infant. Cuddling Kelsey against her chest, she sank into the rocker and hummed under her breath, hoping she didn’t wake Kelsey’s twin,
Hank, who normally slept like a rock. Just eight weeks old, both babies slept pretty well but if one of them woke in the middle of the night, it was usually Kelsey. Smaller than her burlier twin, she ate less and got hungry sooner, so Whitney didn’t often get a full night’s sleep.

  The twins’ mother, her friend Hailey Dobson, got up early so Whitney could rest but she often had trouble going back to sleep. Living here with Hailey and her fiancé, Kane Hatcher, had been great, but Whitney was lonely. The twins kept her busy and she had Hailey and a couple of other girlfriends, but she didn’t have much of a life. Though she’d ended up with a stalker, her life in Boston had been fun. She waited tables at a popular strip club, lived in a nice apartment, and was out almost every day of the week, whether it was a baseball game, going dancing, or sneaking off to explore some historical part of town.

  A born and bred Texan, Whitney didn’t know a lot about the northeast and living there while attending Harvard had been epic. She loved Boston and everything it had to offer. It was also a big city she easily got lost in, something important for a woman with secrets. Harvard had been good about allowing her to use her mother’s maiden name once she’d presented them with the facts of her family’s pseudo-celebrity status, and she’d worked for tips only at the strip club, falling under their radar. Here in Anchorage it was a whole other story.

  Kelsey drifted off to sleep after finishing a bottle and Whitney put her back in her crib. It was four thirty, which meant Hank would be up in another hour or two, and it would probably take her that long to fall asleep. Hailey usually got up around six but the babies’ cries would wake Whitney anyway. With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and tried to read but couldn’t concentrate and after half an hour, got up. She padded downstairs to make a cup of coffee. The lights were on, which meant Kane was probably up, getting ready for an early morning flight to the East Coast with the team he played hockey for, the Alaska Blizzard. She made herself a cup of coffee and had just opened her laptop, ready to read the news, when someone lightly knocked on the kitchen door. She jumped, whirling around to see a face pressed against the glass.