The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(100)



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Excerpt from: Puck Me Secretly





A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance





Prologue


“Well, Dave, we got breaking news that hockey player, Max Logan, assaulted his own teammate, Joseph Flanynk. We have all seen footage of the fight that spilled out of the Minnesota Marmot’s own dressing room. They reported that Flanynk has undergone facial surgery and he will not play for the rest of the season.”

“Jim, did you see this fight? It has gone viral across the sport’s world and would make Conner McGregor flinch. Never, on or off the ice, have I ever seen a fight that extreme or violent.”

“Max Logan has a lot to answer for. Supposedly, the Minnesota coach will bench him for the rest of the season.”

“Jim, if he does, that will cost Minnesota their chance at winning the Stanley Cup.”

“Dave, I think Logan took it too far this time. I’m not sure if he can ever come back from this. I would bet that Minnesota is actively working to get rid of Max Logan.”

“Jim, I agree. But if that happens, the chances of Logan being accepted on a trade is almost minuscule, despite his skills on the ice. A GM can’t risk this kind of off-ice antics because it can derail a team. Tonight may have been Max’s last professional hockey game.”





Chapter One


I strode into the airport lounge, stepped up to the bar, and tossed my bag on the chair beside me.

“What will you have?” the bartender set a coaster in front of me.

“A gin and tonic, please,” I pulled out my wallet. “Make it a double.”

I was heading home. Liquid fortitude was in order.

My phone vibrated.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Your dad and I are excited to see you.”

I didn’t bother to hide the amusement in my voice, “Mom, only two months ago, you were at my graduation.”

It had been no small accomplishment to persuade my parents to let me spend the summer in New York after I graduated from University, but they had caved.

“Rory, you know what I mean. We’re happy that you’re moving back home. It’s been a long four years.”

I begged to differ. It had been the greatest four years of my life. Wanting to be independent, I had picked a university far from home. But now my bid for freedom was ending, and the prodigal daughter was returning home.

I loved my parents. As helicopter as they were, they loved me. Sometimes too much.

“It’ll be nice to be back in Vancouver.”

“It thrills your father you’ll be working with him. He’s been talking about it for weeks.”

The tension in my stomach grew tighter. My father always wanted a son to follow him into his business. But since I was his only child that lovely honor now fell onto my shoulders.

Crushing me.

I had no intention of joining my father in his business, but we negotiated a deal four years ago. If he let me go to university in New York, I would return to Vancouver and intern with him for one year upon graduation.

“I think they’re calling my flight for boarding, Mom,” I lied. “I should go check.”

“Okay. Your father and I have a charity benefit tonight, so we’ll send the car for you.”

“Sure, sounds fine.” My parents enjoyed significant societal commitments. Warm airport welcomes were not something we did as a family.

“Love you, Rory.”

“See you soon, Mom.”

I hung up the phone. Not caring that it was only noon, I motioned for the bartender to pour me another gin and tonic. Boarding started in 30 minutes and I needed liquid courage to get on my flight.

A man approached the bar. I studied him from beneath my eyelashes.

Smoking hot.

He stood well over six feet tall and his light brown hair touched his collar. From the silver military style watch on his wide wrist to the navy dress shirt that opened at the collar, he looked expensive. His dark jeans fit over his sculpted ass. Super-hot and so not my type. I didn’t go for athletic men, and I didn’t go for wealthy ones. He was both.

As if he had a sixth sense, he turned so I could see his face.

Holy fuck.

The breath sucked into my body as I took in his incredible jawline that narrowed towards his chin. His cheekbones were so chiseled they’d make Di Vinci weep. Slanting blue eyes studied something behind me. Pulling my eyes away from him, I tossed back my drink.

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