Las Vegas Sidewinders: Brock Page 2

“Come on, you’ve heard the rumors.”

  Rachel paused. “About you and Bud.”

  She gave a barely perceptible nod.

  “So it’s true?”

  “He wasn’t married then. I was twenty, lonely, and honestly, he was the nicest guy I’d met since arriving in Hollywood. He was older, but sweet and funny and kind of shy. I didn’t love him, but I liked him and he’s the one who broke things off, saying it would hurt my career if people thought I went out with someone as old as him just to get the part on Vampire.” Her voice faded and she stared off at the horizon.

  “I’m having a hard time picturing Bud propositioning a twenty-year-old girl.”

  Ashleigh sighed sadly. “You have no idea, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means they’re all out there waiting for desperate young actresses like me. I got lucky because Bud turned out to be a sweet guy who was just lonely and had no game with women. We went out a few times before he told me he had a part for me but we had to stop seeing each other because it would ruin both his credibility and mine. The rest is history.”

  Rachel was quiet at first, focusing on the road. “Okay, so you dated a successful producer and wound up getting a part out of it, but it’s not like you asked for it.”

  “No, but if it ever got out that we dated before I got the part…”

  “Because successful men in Hollywood haven’t been dating beautiful young actresses since the beginning of time?”

  “If Angel hires someone to start digging—”

  “Hires who?” Rachel laughed. “She doesn’t have a job, and you said her new boyfriend is a street thug. They’re not going to hire someone to find out dirt about you. And sleeping with your producer before he was married doesn’t mean shit!”

  “I hope you’re right,” she whispered.

  “Come on, lighten up. Think of all the fun we’re going to have this weekend!”

  “We’d better.” Ashleigh had high hopes. She needed time away from her life. The stress had been overwhelming lately, and something had to give. Maybe a few days away from reality would provide the escape she needed for things to come together in her head. Maybe.

  2

  The Las Vegas Sidewinders gathered at the arena earlier than usual before the game. Their head coach, Brad Barnett, wanted them in the arena and away from the media. Since they’d won the championship last year, fans had been fanatic and there was much more attention from the press this season than ever before. Frankly, it got to be a distraction sometimes. It was March, so the regular season was almost over, but they couldn’t afford to lose focus this close to the playoffs.

  They’d already eaten and now were in the midst of an informal game of soccer in the hallways of the bottom level of the arena. Vlad moved the ball to Toli Petrov, the only other Russian on the team, who shot it past Brock, one of the acting goalies in the soccer game. Karl Martensson, the team’s starting goalie, chuckled as Brock ran after it.

  “And you think my job is easy!” he called after him.

  Brock Lassiter rolled his eyes as he chased the ball and tossed it back into play. “Whatever. I want to see you fight, then we’ll talk about whose job is harder.”

  “I’ll fight.” Karl shrugged, grinning. “Bring it!”

  They laughed good-naturedly, keeping the ball moving and using the activity to stretch out and burn off excess energy.

  “I’m heading in,” Brock said, moving to the locker room as he peeled off his T-shirt and used it to wipe his sweaty brow. Vlad followed him in and they sat, allowing themselves to cool off a little before putting on their gear. They kept their pre-game soccer matches more about skill and warming up their muscles than any true exertion, but they were all naturally competitive enough to put a least a modicum of effort into it.

  “Rachel’s driving in,” Vlad said as he looked at his phone. “She will be here for the game.”

  “Great.” Brock rolled his eyes. “You’ll come to practice with that stupid smile on your face.”

  Vlad laughed. “You would smile like that, too, if you had someone as gorgeous as Rachel in your life.”

  Brock shuddered. “She’s beautiful and sweet, but hell no. You know I don’t do relationships.”

  Vlad shook his head. “That’s what I thought, too. It’s different when you meet someone special.”

  “Been there, done that,” he grunted. “No thanks.”

  “Rachel’s friend Ashleigh is coming with her—the one who stars with her on Vampire Legend. I’m telling you, she’s beautiful, sweet, and successful. A great girl.”

  “Way too nice for me, probably.” Brock shook his head. “Besides, she’s your girlfriend’s best friend and I don’t want to muck things up.”

  Vlad’s phone rang and he picked it up, inadvertently ending the conversation.

  Brock smiled, allowing himself a brief fantasy of what hooking up with Ashleigh fucking Hunter would be like. She wasn’t just cute or pretty—she was stunning. He wouldn’t admit it out loud because Vlad would never give him any peace about it, but he didn’t know if there was a woman whose beauty affected him as much as Ashleigh’s did. The whole team watched Vampire Legend and he’d always thought she was gorgeous, but the more Vlad talked about her, the more he realized she wasn’t one-night stand material.

  At this stage in his life, Brock wasn’t interested in anything long-term. He’d been through that, and the only woman he’d ever loved had cheated on him. He had no interest in opening himself up to that kind of vulnerability again. Maybe when he was in his forties and not playing hockey anymore, but life as a professional athlete wasn’t conducive to healthy relationships. Quite a few of his teammates seemed to be doing okay with them, but he liked his life the way it was. Most of the time anyway.

  Vlad hung up and grinned at him. “The girls will be here in about an hour so I need to arrange tickets. I’ll be back.” He disappeared around the corner and Brock couldn’t help but envy the happiness in Vlad’s eyes. His friend had changed a lot since meeting Rachel, and it was nice to see. They’d always been friendly, but Vlad hadn’t spoken much English when he’d arrived in Las Vegas three years ago, so most of their interaction outside the rink had been beer and women.

  Rachel had changed everything, and though Brock was happy for him, he missed his party buddy. Vlad and another teammate, Matt Forbes, had been his constant companions, and while Vlad was now in a relationship, Matt had become an asshole after his fiancée dumped him, so Brock didn’t like spending time with him anymore. It was lonely, but he’d never admit that to anyone but himself.

  “You ready for tonight?” one of his teammates came in and sat next to him.

  Brock glanced up, pushing his thoughts away. “Hell yeah. We need to bring home another Cup.”

  The room started filling up as the team began preparing for the game and Brock turned off everything except hockey. There was plenty of time to contemplate what it would be like to meet the one and only Ashleigh Hunter, but right now he had a game to win.

  Following Vlad to the family lounge after the game, Brock was in a good mood. They’d annihilated the team from Anchorage, he’d scored a goal, and they’d clinched a spot in the playoffs. All in all, a good night already, and Vlad had promised to introduce him to Ashleigh. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but maybe a simple conversation with her would show him she was nothing more than a pretty face. He wasn’t a fan of the way most models and actresses he’d met behaved, and if she was another stuck-up Hollywood starlet, she wasn’t even worth fantasizing about.

  Vlad made a beeline for Rachel. Brock hung back, watching to get a glimpse of Ashleigh before they were introduced. At first he didn’t see her, until she turned to Vlad, a genuine smile lighting her eyes as she hugged him. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but there seemed to be affection between them as Vlad, Rachel, and Ashleigh laughed together. And damn if Ashleigh wasn’t even prettier in person. Her hair was white-blonde and definitely not fr
om a bottle, hanging in soft waves just below her shoulders. She was tiny, much more petite than he’d anticipated, but when she turned to talk to one of the other girlfriends, he got a glimpse of an incredible backside packed into skintight jeans.

  “You got dibs or what?” His friend and teammate, Royce Lenahan, spoke in his ear. “I figured you had first shot at her since she’s besties with Vlad’s girlfriend, but if not…”

  Brock shrugged. “I don’t have any claim on her, but I’m going to go meet her. You know I don’t do serious. She probably won’t go out with your toothless ass, but you can try.” He chuckled as he headed toward the group.

  “I’ve got my teeth in,” Royce muttered, following him.

  Brock walked up next to Vlad and smiled at Rachel. He’d met her before since she’d previously dated another player on the team, Jamie Teller, who now played for Ottawa. “Hey, Rachel.”

  “Hey, Brock!” She gave him a hug and turned to Ashleigh. “Do you know Ashleigh? This is Brock and Royce.” She made casual introductions, but it wasn’t until Ashleigh fixed big violet eyes on him that Brock found himself slightly mesmerized.

  Rachel was beautiful, but Ashleigh fell in to the category of breathtaking. Were her eyes violet? He almost did a double-take but managed to keep his composure as he smiled, shook her hand, and hopefully said something polite. Royce, on the other hand, was in full-on pick-up mode, flirting and talking a little too much, so Brock hung back. She was way too gorgeous for a guy like Brock, with his crazy out-of-control beard, the full-sleeve tats on both his arms, and his Bohemian lifestyle. He’d been arrested once a year every year of his career until this one. It was mostly minor stuff, and he’d always gotten off. Except once, but Brock didn’t like to think about that.

  “Brock?”

  He started when he realized Ashleigh had been talking to him.

  “I’m sorry?” He smiled down at her, once again a little mesmerized by her purple-blue eyes.

  “Congratulations on your goal,” she said softly.

  “Thanks. Didn’t seem like Anchorage wanted it tonight.”

  She shook her head. “They were definitely off their game. I don’t know what was wrong with Ferrar—he was fighting the puck all night.” Aaron Ferrar was Anchorage’s goalie.

  Brock glanced at her in surprise. Was she a hockey fan? How many non-fans used a term like “fighting the puck”?

  “Not his best performance,” Brock agreed, “but we all have nights like that.”

  “Not lately.” She shook her head. “You guys have been on fire the last month or so.”

  He nodded. “That whole back-to-back Cup thing is putting some pressure on us.”

  “No one expected you guys to do anything this soon,” she said. “Winning the championship in your second season in existence was huge, but I guess there’s a lot of pressure on you to do it again, prove you’re a solid team and that it wasn’t a fluke.”

  He was a little taken aback at her intricate knowledge of not just the sport, but the team. She knew what she was talking about, and he was enjoying listening to her voice as she did so.

  “The pressure is huge.” Royce had stepped in as Brock was mulling over what to say. “Thank god we clinched a playoff spot. Reporters ask us about it all the time. It’s unnerving…” He kept talking and Brock watched Ashleigh patiently listen, nodding appropriately even though he didn’t miss the flash of annoyance that Royce had interrupted them. Had she wanted to keep talking to him before Royce so rudely got between them? He looked over at Vlad, who was leaning against the wall with a beer in one hand, the other wrapped in Rachel’s.

  “We go for drinks,” Vlad whispered in Brock’s ear. “You wanna double date?”

  Brock almost nodded but then shook his head. “Nah, it’s cool. I’m gonna—”

  “Brock, are you coming to the bar with us?” Ashleigh’s eyes locked onto his intently.

  “I, er…” Shit! He wanted to, but it was probably better if he didn’t. He was already intrigued by her, and spending more time with her would be… He paused. What would it be, exactly? Bad? Good? A waste of time? He was jaded, but this was extreme even for him. Why couldn’t he spend time in the company of a beautiful, interesting woman? It didn’t mean they had to sleep together or anything.

  “Sure!” His mouth apparently had a mind of its own, speaking before his brain had made up its mind.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Vlad said, moving toward the door.

  Royce was opening his mouth but Brock moved faster, putting himself between Royce and Ashleigh. “Want to ride with me?”

  “Sure.” She nodded, walking next to him as they followed Vlad.

  “Are you guys…?” Royce’s voice trailed off as Brock fixed him with an intent glare. He cleared his throat before saying, “Nice to meet you, Ashleigh. See you again sometime.”

  She waved. “Nice to meet you, too, Royce!”

  They rounded the corner, and she looked up at Brock in amusement. “Did you just give him the death stare?”

  “Huh?” Brock was never more grateful for his beard than right now, since it probably covered the flush on his cheeks.

  “Don’t act all innocent.” She was laughing. “You totally gave him the ‘back off’ look. It’s okay. I’m glad. I was annoyed our conversation was interrupted.”

  He grinned down at her, thinking she was nothing like what he’d been expecting. And that was bad. Very, very bad.

  3

  Sitting in a booth in the back of a small sports bar call Brody’s, Ashleigh couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. She’d had a great time at the game, and being out with Rachel, Vlad, and Brock was a lot of fun. She already liked Vlad, and now that she was spending time with Brock, she liked him, too. Rachel had described him as a bit of a player when it came to women, but smart, funny, and sexy as sin. He was the latter three things in spades, especially the sexy part. His looks were somewhat hidden by the crazy beard—bushy and unkempt—but as someone who worked in an industry focused on looks, she could see beyond that. His eyes were as blue as the Mediterranean Sea, fringed with long dark lashes that most women would kill for. He had borderline supermodel cheekbones that not even a mask could disguise if you looked hard enough, and there was no mistaking the full, well-shaped lips.

  She didn’t want to look beyond the face because that might set her on a path she didn’t want to go down. Generally speaking, she didn’t enjoy sex and thought about it close to never. It was expected when you were dating someone in her circles, and she certainly wasn’t a virgin, but her interest in men was usually everything but sex. In Brock’s case, that might be a problem. Rachel’s “sexy as sin” description didn’t even come close to how sexy he truly was. He wasn’t huge like Vlad or some of the other guys on the team, but from what she could see, every inch of him was toned and well-defined. She loved his arms, from his bulging biceps to the tattoos that covered his forearms, and she could only imagine what he looked like without a shirt.

  Stop it! she admonished herself, trying to stop staring. She wasn’t that kind of girl, the kind who looked at a good-looking man and wanted to lick him from top to bottom. She usually smiled, flirted, and moved on, but not tonight. Oh, no. Tonight she was turning on the charm and getting it right back. They were only supposed to be hanging out, so why was it starting to feel like a real date? What was that about? She hated dating.

  “…and then I turned around and her mom was standing there naked!” Brock was telling a story and Vlad and Rachel were in stiches.

  Ashleigh had been so focused on admiring him she’d missed part of it, so she put a grin on her face and tried to catch up. “Wait, her mom?”

  “Yeah, they were trying to tag-team me.”

  “Hockey groupies are hard core,” Ashleigh murmured, shaking her head. “Is that a thing?”

  “It was a first for me,” Brock chuckled. “But there was no way. Even I have limits.”

  “How old were they?” Ashleigh asked curiou
sly.

  “They said eighteen and thirty-five, but I think the daughter was more like sixteen… I’m not into the underage thing and while some guys might think mother/daughter is hot, not me.”

  Ashleigh grimaced. “Yeah, that’s kind of gross.”

  “So, no mother/daughter action for you?” Brock teased, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes. “Bite your tongue! Knowing my mother, she’d be into it.” She laughed, even though she was serious; her mother was a piece of work sometimes.

  “Ruby’s not a typical mom,” Rachel added, nodding. “Everyone cringes when she comes to visit.”

  Brock grimaced. “Yikes, that sounds scary.”

  “We’re not close, but she’s still my mom, you know?” Ashleigh shrugged. “We’re all we have, and even when I want to kill her, I know she did the best she could. She had me when she was fifteen, so it’s not like she knew what she was doing.”

  “And your dad?” Brock asked quietly.

  Ashleigh shook her head. “He told her he was going to marry her but his parents sent him off to the military and she never heard from him again. Her parents kicked her out when he left so she raised me on her own. She dropped out of school to take care of me, and we went through a lot of hard times. So whenever she says or does something dumb, I remind myself about the year we were homeless, about how her parents stopped speaking to her, how half the town she was from ostracized her.”

  “Sounds like a tough lady,” Brock responded.

  She nodded. “Yes. She’s just a little hard to manage sometimes.”

  He laughed. “Sounds like my grandmother. My dad passed away when I was eight, so it was me, my mom, and grandmother most of my life, and when I say my grandma is my biggest fan, you cannot fathom the intensity of that statement.”

  Vlad nodded vehemently. “She embarrasses me, and I don’t embarrass so easy.”

  “Sounds like a challenge,” Brock grinned.

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes. “Yeah, good luck with that.”