A frown settled between his brows. She didn’t even want to have dinner with him at a secluded restaurant in Bellevue. She’d made it real clear what she did want, and she was right. There could never be more between them than clandestine sex. And really good lap dances. Especially now with those billboards plastered all over Seattle. He’d never been featured in a tabloid, but he imagined that a photo of him lounging on the beaches of Mazatlan with the owner of the Chinooks might make it into the pages. So why was he even thinking about it?
Faith watched Ty’s big hands close his shirt over his hard abs and defined pecs and wondered what had put the frown on his face. “I understand about single-minded goals,” she said as she rose from the bed and grabbed a hotel robe from the closet. “My whole goal in life was to have so much money that I didn’t ever have to worry about how I was going to pay the bills.”
“I’d say you pretty much exceeded your goal.” He closed the last button, then tucked the tails into his trousers.
“Yeah. I did, and once I reached it, I was kind of aimless. I didn’t realize how aimless until now.” She slid her arms into the rich terry-cloth robe and tied the belt around her waist. “Now I have a new goal. A better goal, and one that I never even dreamed I’d ever have in a million years. It’s really scary, but I’m enjoying it. Which is kind of scary too.”
He glanced up, then returned his attention to his black leather belt. “What’s that?”
“The Chinooks. I certainly never thought I’d own a hockey team. And if I’d ever even given it a thought, I wouldn’t have ever thought I’d actually come to like it.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “It’s a huge responsibility, and for the past few years I’ve been all about letting someone else take care of everything. Now, I’m learning to like the responsibility. I like owning the Chinooks so much, that I’m actually looking forward to the drafts.”
He looked up at her. “Who are you looking at?”
“A few top prospects. When I get back, Darby and I are viewing some tapes of two-way defenders.”
He chuckled as he gazed across the room. “Do you know what a two-way defender is?”
“Someone who can defend and score.” She shrugged. “At least that’s what I
think it means.”
“You’re right. That’s pretty much what it means.” He moved toward her. “Keep your eyes open for a big, hard-nosed checker. Don’t worry so much about the kid’s speed. Skating can be improved.” He wrapped his hand around the robe’s belt and pulled her against him. “If I don’t talk to you again until we get back to Seattle, don’t get bent out of shape again.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.
“You’ll be thinking about me?”
He shook his head and his lips brushed across her skin. “I’m going to try like hell not to think about you.”
The different tones and pitches of more than thirty snoring men filled the cabin of the BAC-111 as it circled Boeing Field and prepared to land. Hours earlier, the Chinooks had suffered a crushing 3–4 loss to Detroit. Game Five of the series was two days away and Faith figured Ty would need the full two days to recover from a brutal hit he’d taken at center ice from Detroit enforcer Darren McCarty.
A few plays later, Ty had put a hit on McCarty in the corner that had crumpled the Red Wing to the ice. “McCarty caught me with my head down,” Ty had told the press later that night. “Then I caught him with the puck.”
Later that night, Faith saw firsthand the extent of Ty’s bruises. He was black and blue on his right side and red across his back and hard stomach. It looked like he’d been hit by a baseball bat instead of a hockey enforcer. Ty was sore and battered and when they made love over the next few days, Faith was thoughtful enough to climb on top.
By Game Five Ty had healed somewhat, and the Chinooks managed a 3–1 win in their own house. Game Six was back in Detroit at the Joe Louis Arena and went into double overtime. With three seconds left on the clock, Daniel scored and the Chinooks advanced to the final round to face off against the Pittsburgh Penguins in their battle for the cup.
High from the win and advancement into the final round of the playoffs, the team boarded the BAC-111 and celebrated by popping Bollinger champagne. Once the jet reached cruising speed, Coach Nystrom stood, slightly bowed forward to accommodate his height. “Two months ago when Virgil Duffy died,” he began when everyone had quieted, “we all worried how the new ownership of the team would affect our run at the cup. Any time there is a change, there is cause for concern. After tonight, I think we can safely say that Mrs. Duffy has successfully filled Virgil’s shoes. I think he would be proud of her, and we want to officially welcome her to the team.” He turned to his left and Darby handed him a dark blue jersey. He turned it to show her name, DUFFY, written across the shoulders and the number one on the back in dark green. “We officially want to welcome the newest Chinook.”
Faith stood and stepped into the aisle. She took the jersey and the backs of her eyes stung. “Thank you, Coach.” She turned and looked at the scruffy faces looking back at her, at their beards that now ranged from Geico cavemen to patchy fuzz. She met Ty’s gaze and both corners of his mouth slid up in a rare smile. Her heart pinched and her eyes stung and she didn’t want to cry like a girl.
“When I discovered that Virgil had left me his hockey team, I was as stunned as all of you. I was just as worried as everyone else that the responsibility would be too much for me and I’d mess things up.” She swallowed and folded the jersey across her arm. “With the help of my assistant, and everyone else, I’m proud to say I’ve done all right. I’m proud of all you guys, and I know that Virgil is proud of us too.” She thought she should give some sort of inspiring speech, but her vision blurred. “Thank you,” she said before she embarrassed herself by crying in front of her guys. She sat next to Jules for the remainder of the flight home and wished she could curl up in Ty’s lap and bury her face in his neck.
At three in the morning, when a black Beemer pulled up to the curb in front of her penthouse, she wore the new jersey beneath her raincoat. This time, however, she packed her Louis Vuitton hatbox with extra lingerie and a change of clothes.
Over the next five days, until the first game against the Penguins, their lives fell into a comfortable pattern, as if they were a real couple. Ty practiced during the day while Faith viewed rookie tapes or met with Miranda Snow of the Chinooks Foundation. She had lunch with Jules or her mother, and at night she either drove to Ty’s or he came to her home, depending on Valerie and Pavel’s plans. The only creature on the planet aware of Ty and Faith’s covert relationship was Pebbles. The second the dog set her beady eyes on Ty, she instantly fell in love, much to the 240-pound hockey player’s discomfort. The second he would walk in the door, Pebbles circled his legs so he could hardly walk and jumped in his lap when he sat. Ty would give Faith a look, expecting her to do something, but when she tried, the dog snapped at her. Pebbles was a total slut for Ty, but Faith supposed she couldn’t blame the evil little mutt.
The one and only time she and Ty argued, it was about Virgil. It happened at his house during a golf lesson when he was teaching her to “waggle.” She wore a red corset and little panties that tied at the sides, and instead of getting turned on like she’d planned, he’d just gotten irritated.