Penalty Play (Seattle Sockeyes Hockey) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1—Behind the Glass

  Chapter 2—Faceoff

  Chapter 3—Playmaker

  Chapter 4—Split the Defense

  Chapter 5—Time on Ice

  Chapter 6—Stickhandling

  Chapter 7—In the Crease

  Chapter 8—Plus-Minus

  Chapter 9—Hip Check

  Chapter 10—Intentional Offside

  Chapter 11—Hook Check

  Chapter 12—Defensive Zone

  Chapter 13—Penalty Kill

  Chapter 14—Fancy Stats

  Chapter 15—Delayed Offside

  Chapter 16—Feb. 4

  Chapter 17—Deflection

  Chapter 18—Hash Marks

  Chapter 19—Intermission

  Chapter 20—Illegal Stick

  Chapter 21—Hat Trick

  Epilogue

  COMPLETE BOOKLIST

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PENALTY PLAY

  (Seattle Sockeyes Hockey)

  GAME ON IN SEATTLE 9

  By Jami Davenport

  Copyright © 2017 by Cedrona Enterprises

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Jami Davenport. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

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  The Seattle Sockeyes™, Seattle Steelheads™, and Seattle Skookums™ are fictional sports teams. Their names and logos are created for the sole use of the owner and covered under protection of trademark.

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-age readers.

  Email: [email protected]

  Website: http://www.jamidavenport.com

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  Single dad and star defenseman Matt LaRue lives for his kids and hockey. He's had one failed marriage and doesn't have any interest in going through that hell again. As conservative as they come, he can't comprehend his unexplainable attraction to a free-spirited female who changes hair color more often than his boys create new excuses to avoid doing their homework.

  Violet Strider is fleeing the past. She has a new start, new identity, and is hiding a big secret. Matt and Vi are a classic case of opposites attract, but neither expects the attraction to extend beyond a few hot trysts, especially Vi. Only her heart isn't listening, and her head is following her heart down a path of no return. As Vi grows closer to Matt and his boys, she fears her secret could rip them apart.

  Relationships are built on trust, and Vi's house of cards is about to take a tumble. Can Vi confront her past and finally put it behind her, while earning Matt's forgiveness?

  DEDICATION

  A huge thank you to Brandi for helping me with French Canadian facts. Smooches to you, Brandi.

  Chapter 1—Behind the Glass

  Matt LaRue had no choice but to make a deal with the devil.

  A sexy, purple-haired, tattooed devil who could make his life a living hell. Strike could, and insert had and would.

  Matt lived his life by a few simple principles: Never lie or cheat. Be the best person you can be. And only associate with people of the highest ethical standards. After all, he had his boys to consider. And he had an ex-wife who lacked those basic principles. He should’ve known better, and he swore he’d never make the same mistake twice. The next woman he dated would be beyond reproach, which was why his latest dilemma sucked donkey balls.

  Yet what choice did he have?

  Matt would do anything for his boys, including beg Violet Strider to babysit for an evening. After all, it was just an evening. She’d take good care of them, even if she pissed him off with the simple act of being in the same room.

  Vi did not meet his standards in the appearance department. He was conservative and picky, and she had a tendency toward being flighty and a free spirit. What’s more in Matt’s estimation, the free spirit label was an excuse to be irresponsible.

  Vi was irresponsible—

  And fucking hot.

  And incredibly sexy.

  She brought out the bad boy he’d long ago squelched. And he hated that bad boy. He was a father and a role model, not a man-whore. Not that he’d ever been much of a man-whore, but he’d raised his share of hell in his earlier days. Now he was thirty-four and older and wiser. He needed a wife and a mother for his boys, not a fling.

  But, damn, he wanted to have one with Vi, which made no sense at all.

  They’d shared one kiss in his kitchen, one long, hot, deep kiss weeks ago. After that, they’d both pretended it’d never happened, which was fine with him. Except that it had, and he couldn’t forget how her mouth felt against his, all wet and needy and demanding. He wanted to—

  Fuck.

  His doorbell rang, and his boys about knocked him down getting to it.

  “Vi’s here!” Andy, his oldest at seven, reached the door first and yanked it open, ignoring all the lectures Matt had given them about not opening the door before you know who’s on the other side. He sighed. Sometimes he felt he was beating his head against a brick wall.

  “Vi! Vi! Vi!” Joey, his youngest at five, jumped up and down with that pure, unadulterated joy only kids could have, and his son’s enthusiasm made Matt smile. There’d been a time when neither boy had behaved that way. In those dark times after their mother deserted them, they’d been quiet and sullen. Thank God, they’d gotten past the stage of missing their mother, and so had he. None of them had seen the woman in close to three years, which was sad and tragic when he allowed himself to think about how callously she’d abandoned them.

  Matt stood back and swallowed hard as a jolt of uncontrollable lust rushed to his groin. Vi stood in the doorway with a sassy grin on her beautiful face. He attempted to concentrate on how she wore too much makeup for his taste, how her clothes were too tight, and how her body was covered in too much ink. Vi didn’t do classy or toned down. Vi did in your face and take me or leave me, this is who I am.

  This time her hair was purple, a deep, dark purple like the flowers that grew in his grandmother’s garden in late spring.

  His gaze dropped from her pouty, bright red lips, to the bouquet of pink and red roses peeking out from her scoop-neck long-sleeved T-shirt. Her breasts had to be inked, too. In fact, he wondered if her entire body was. Guessing by the few glimpses he’d had of that curvy body, she was inked head to foot.

  Holy shit.

  He was getting hard
, and in front of his boys. Not that they’d notice. They were inundating Vi with questions. She just smiled down at them nervously as if they were aliens who’d dropped from the sky and didn’t speak the language. Vi out of her comfort zone was incredibly sexy.

  He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and bit back a groan.

  “You’re late,” he growled, masking his lust with irritation.

  “Not by much.” She grinned, now amused and not even a tiny bit sorry.

  “Dad, why can’t we go to your game?” Joey whined.

  Matt shot him a withering look, but Joey merely blinked. Joey had that wide-eyed, innocent-little-boy act going for him, but Matt was relatively immune to it.

  “Yeah, Dad, we want to go.” Andy added his two cents. His older boy was a little more reserved and serious, like his dad.

  Matt narrowed his eyes. “You know the rules. Make your beds and put away your clothes and toys. You didn’t, so you’re not going.”

  “But, Dad—” Joey was working himself up to a tantrum, and Matt didn’t have the time or patience for drama tonight. He was late, and he hated being late. He glanced at Vi, who was nervously biting her lower lip. She’d obviously noticed the impending storm and didn’t want any part of it.

  “Matt, couldn’t I just take them to the game?” Desperation shone in her big blue eyes as she flickered her gaze from the boys and back to him. She shoved a shiny lock of purple hair behind her ear.

  “No,” he said a little more harshly than planned. Vi wasn’t great with kids, but the boys were fascinated by her, probably because she was weird.

  “Please, Dad,” Andy begged.

  “No. Now be good for Vi.” He turned to Vi and dug in his pockets. “Here’s some cash for dinner and the car keys. Don’t drive over the speed limit, and make sure they’re strapped in.”

  Vi bowed low. “Yes, master.”

  Matt rolled his eyes, and the boys giggled. He bent down and held his arms out for his boys. “Who loves you?” he asked just as he always did before he left.

  Despite their pouting, the boys stepped into his arms and muttered simultaneously, “You do.” Matt hugged them tightly, and they hugged him back. Finally, he stood, grabbed his duffel and keys, and headed for the garage door, leaving Vi to fend for herself, quite pleased that she’d been rendered somewhat speechless. He couldn’t resist one last look over his shoulder.

  Vi made a face at him, and he blew her a kiss. She scowled. He laughed as he slipped out of the house.

  Matt got in his Mercedes, leaving the SUV for Vi, and backed out of the garage. He chuckled to himself at the panicked look on Vi’s face as he shut the garage door at the exact second Joey launched into a full-blown temper tantrum.

  Let her deal with them.

  He felt a twinge of guilt over dumping two unhappy little boys on a woman ill-equipped to handle them, but Amelia had insisted Vi would do just fine, and he had run out of options for childcare this evening. His mother’s plane back to Seattle had been canceled early in the day. His backup sitters were all busy or going to the game.

  He still disliked the idea of Vi caring for his boys. He disliked Vi in his house. And he really disliked that he wanted her.

  Tonight, in the privacy of his bed, he’d probably jerk off thinking how much he wanted her. He’d imagine exploring those tattoos, wherever they might lead, over nice, plump breasts to her pierced belly button, and down long, smooth thighs. He wondered where else she was pierced. He’d seen the belly button piercing one time when she’d worn a short shirt, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Merde.

  He needed to ramp up his quest for a nice girl, a devoted wife, and a mother for his boys. Preferably the churchgoing type with hair a natural color and no ink anywhere on her sweet body. Nothing like Vi. He’d been on a few blind dates set up by teammates’ wives, but they hadn’t interested him enough to ask for a second date. Every time, he’d found something wrong with them. He kept picturing Vi, which was too weird for words.

  Maybe he was destined to be a single dad the rest of his life.

  But he sure as fuck wasn’t destined to be celibate.

  * * * *

  Matt LaRue was a self-righteous jerk, and Vi couldn’t stand him, even if he did have a body that would put a Greek god to shame. He infuriated her, frustrated her, and excited her. Lust was blind, not love. And she was in blind, stupid lust with Matt LaRue, the biggest conservative tight-ass in the entire NHL, and so not her type. Yeah, well, tell that to her vagina.

  His piercing brown eyes drilled right down to her very soul and made her wet in all the right places. His sharp features reminded her of a dangerous but delectable hawk. Heat spread throughout her body whenever he was within one hundred yards like a lust-induced hot flash. He wasn’t overly tall or overly muscular. He was lean, with a catlike quickness on the ice. Always ready, always watching. He never said much, but she often found herself leaning forward to catch the slight accent in his voice. He sounded straight Canadian, rather than French Canadian, but she could hear a slight French accent in the way he said certain words, such as “merci,” not that he ever said thank you to her.

  She could only imagine what his bedroom talk could be like, assuming he talked at all. Maybe he was a slam-bam-get it done, ma’am kind of guy. Only she doubted that.

  Sadly, she’d never seen the inside of his bedroom, and they’d only shared one toe-curling, pussy-drenching, nipple-tightening kiss.

  Yeah, he did it for her, and she’d rather he didn’t, but she was fighting nature, and nature usually won.

  Matt was still a jerk. Most good-looking, wealthy men were. He’d dumped his boys on her, forgetting she was doing him a favor.

  He’d learn, and so would everyone else who’d looked down their noses at her.

  Vi had plans. Big plans. Yeah, her life had been interrupted for two years because she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she’d moved on and made the best of a crappy situation.

  A new name. A new life. A new Vi.

  Though vestiges of her old life still existed, she made the most of what she had. She was going to college and majoring in dance, while paying her tuition in an unorthodox way, one she kept secret from her friends. Not because she was ashamed of what she did, but because her new friends wouldn’t understand. Vi got it. Most women weren’t as comfortable with their sexuality as Vi was.

  Vi loved dancing, but she wasn’t built for classical dance with a tall, lithe body. Her curvy, athletic body with her ample breasts was suited more for a stripper than a ballerina. Add to that her unfortunate brush with the law, and she wasn’t going to be hired in your traditional college-student jobs, especially once she put a checkmark in that “box of doom” on an employment application. Vi wasn’t a liar. She owned her mistakes, even the big ones. But if people didn’t ask, she didn’t volunteer. Googling her current last name would get a nosy person nowhere, except a Midwestern stay-at-home mom who sang in the church choir. So not Vi.

  Stripping hadn’t been Vi’s first choice. She’d tried bartending and waitressing. Neither paid enough to cover her college tuition. She needed more money, and making money dancing was her dream job, even if she showed more skin than most people considered respectable.

  Vi didn’t want to be in debt to her eyeballs once she got her degree. She’d stumbled upon her current job by accident, and she’d been perfect for it. Besides getting paid to dance and being adored by men, she was in control, the hours meshed well with her schedule, and she didn’t have to work nearly as much as a bartender or waitress. In fact, she only worked Thursday through Saturday nights, and those three nights paid for everything. Where else could a girl with no skills and a questionable past get a job that paid as well as this one and didn’t require her being on her back?

  Taking advantage of her schedule, Vi had loaded up on courses this quarter.

  Tonight, she was babysitting, of all things. She was so not a kid person. She’d rather be aro
und slobbering, rude men than a couple of reasonably polite kids. She knew how to handle the men. Kids, not so much. Oddly enough, the boys seemed to appreciate her quirky personality. No wonder, since their dad was a stick-in-the-mud and far older than his years.

  Only tonight may not be her night.

  As soon as Matt shut the door, Joey’s wailing and screaming increased to ear-splitting proportions. Andy stuck his fingers in his ears and glared at her as if she were supposed to do something.

  Like what?

  She shrugged and held her hands out. Andy’s look said it all. He considered her a moron.

  When it came to kids, she probably was.

  Whatever.

  It’s not as if she wanted to be a mother. She wasn’t stupid, and she’d suck at motherhood. She was an artist, and she embraced her artistic soul, which refused to be tied down or responsible for anyone other than herself.

  The noise became overwhelming, so she turned away and walked into the huge, open family room with the big windows looking out onto the green space in this planned community. She picked up wadded pieces of paper from the floor and frowned when she couldn’t find a recycle bin under the kitchen sink.

  She was an idiot. She shouldn’t have agreed to babysit. What had she been thinking? She wasn’t good with kids, not like her bestie, Amelia, who could charm the most recalcitrant three-year-old into doing her bidding. Vi knew the unpalatable truth. She’d taken the job to see Matt again. The two of them had unfinished business between the sheets, and she intended to finish it. He might be a boring tight-ass on the outside, but those types were often tigers in bed. She’d seen the way he played hockey and guessed his bed play would be just as intense and focused.

  Vi lifted a hand to fan herself. The visuals racing through her brain were just too much.

  Andy tugged on her sleeve. “Make him stop.” He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He resembled his dad so much Vi took a step back and blinked several times.