Parental Guidance (A Hot Hockey Romantic Comedy) Read online

  …

  Her taste still on his lips, Caleb stood up, looking down at Zara as she came back to herself. The flushed tint of her skin almost camouflaged the riot of freckles covering her body. They were everywhere, from her collarbone to her kneecaps, and he couldn’t wait to kiss each one as he explored her body, but not yet. Right now his cock ached from need and his balls were already drawn up tight.

  Zara watched him through hooded eyes, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, as he tore open one of the condoms and rolled it on.

  “Stay right where you are.” He came down between her legs, lining himself up with her core.

  “So bossy,” she said, but there wasn’t any censure in her blissed-out tone. “I thought that was my role.”

  “If I’m gonna make it until I get inside you, it’s gotta be mine.” He slid in her, just the head, and closed his eyes. Even this was good enough to make him suck in a breath through his clenched teeth. “You have me ready to tip over.”

  She lifted her hips, changing the angle and taking him deeper. “Then don’t wait.”

  Fuck. How in the hell had he gotten this lucky? It was almost too much to process, which made it a damn good thing he didn’t need his brain right now. This thing between them, this pull, he didn’t understand, it was all heart and instinct and knowing this was right. Thrusting forward, he went as deep as he could before pulling back and doing it all again and again. Sweat beaded at the base of his neck as he fought to hold out, to make this last. That wasn’t going to happen, though—it was too good, and he was too close already before he’d even gotten fully inside her. His balls tingled as he buried himself to the hilt one more time and came so hard his vision blacked out.

  When he could see again, it was to see her smiling underneath him, and something shifted in his chest. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but he’d been waiting for Zara Ambrose. No-relationship rule or not, he couldn’t lose her now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A few days later, Caleb pulled to a stop outside of a house in Waterbury that looked like one of those that Zara usually drove by and wondered how long it took to vacuum the entire place. It was two stories with a three-car garage and a circular driveway protected by a gate that needed a code. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Why had she agreed to go to an Ice Knights team barbecue at Cole Phillips’s house? It wasn’t like they were in a relationship. She didn’t need to meet his friends, but it had seemed like a good idea when he’d shown up at her place this morning with a spur-of-the-moment invitation.

  Now? Her stomach flopped around inside her like a fish out of water. Everyone at the barbecue would tower over her, even though she’d put on her I-am-a-badass super-high heels today. The athletes and their model girlfriends would take one look at her with her bright-red hair, gargantuan number of freckles, and clearance-rack clothes before dismissing her.

  She was gonna have a panic attack right here in Caleb’s truck as he parked next to a sports car glossed to a high sheen.

  “This isn’t a date, right?” she asked for the billionth time since he made her come again this morning and she was so high on happy hormones that she agreed to come. “So if your friends hate me, it doesn’t matter.”

  “No, it’s not an official date; it’s a hangout. The Bramble people don’t need to know a thing about it,” Caleb said. “And if my friends hate you, we’re just gonna throw them in the pool.”

  “There’s a pool?” Dumb question, girl. It’s a McMansion behind a security gate. Of course there is a pool.

  He squeezed her hand with his much bigger one. “They’re good guys; they’re gonna love you.”

  Nerves still making her stomach burble, she arranged her face into what she hoped was a not-a-complete-weirdo smile and got out of the truck. Caleb knocked on the front door but didn’t wait for an answer before walking inside. They headed through the house with its rich mahogany hardwood floors and modern furniture that looked like it came out of a spread in Interior Design magazine and toward the kitchen, where all the noise seemed to be coming from.

  “Is your place like this?” Because compared to her studio apartment, this was Texas, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with that difference.

  Of course, you don’t have to worry about it, since you’re not dating him for real. She mentally smacked herself for that unnecessary bit of reality. The voice in her head could be a real asshole sometimes.

  “It’s not as clean. Phillips is a neat freak,” Caleb said, stopping in the hall before they turned into the kitchen. “You’ll have to come over this week. Maybe after the next home game?”

  She looked up at the high ceilings and around at the hallway wide enough for one of those kid-driven cars. “I’d be afraid of getting lost in all this space.”

  “Just for you, I’ll block off the west wing and east tower,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “You’re such a smart-ass.” She punctuated the declaration by lifting herself up onto her tiptoes and kissing him before he could make another rejoinder.

  It worked. He dropped one hand to her hips, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. She was just wrapping her arms around his neck when someone cleared his throat behind them.

  Because of course—of course—she’d meet someone after he walked in on her making out with her not-date the first time she was invited inside. Way to make a great first impression. She turned around, but Caleb didn’t didn’t remove his reassuring touch.

  “About time you showed up, Stuckey,” the guy said. “Tell me you brought the brats.”

  Caleb lifted the bag in his hand that wasn’t still planted firmly on her hip. “Ta-da.”

  “Thank God.” He snagged the bag. “I get one of these cheat days a month, and I’m making it count.”

  “Zara Ambrose, meet Cole Phillips, who, despite his obsession with dusting and insistence that everyone use a coaster, is actually a pretty chill dude,” Caleb said. “Phillips, this is Zara. She is a massively talented miniatures artisan and you don’t stand a chance with her because she has a Great Dane.”

  Cole grimaced. “Oh God, the only thing worse than dogs is kids. Sorry, I’m sure your dog is the special one that doesn’t shed or lick things.”

  “Oh no, Anchovy does all of that, plus he steals and farts.” She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

  Cole, who looked like he worked as a model during the off-season, just stared blankly at her for a second. Yes, there she was, continuing to make the world’s worst first impression. Then, when she was ready to chop through the hardwood floor to make her own hole to crawl into, Cole started laughing, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  “You are always welcome. Your dog, not so much,” Cole said. “Come on out by the pool. The grill is ready to go, and Petrov and Christensen are playing some kind of ping-pong death match.”

  They followed Cole out onto the patio. While she’d been expecting a crush of people, there was only about a dozen. Most were Ice Knights players, including Zach Blackburn and Fallon Hartigan, who she, like most of Harbor City, had watched fall in love. She had been firmly #TeamZuck, and meeting them now was a little awkward. Okay, a lot awkward. She may have called Fallon Lady Luck, which really was better than referring to Zach by his former nickname as the most hated man in Harbor City…but still embarrassing.

  Two strikes, Ambrose.

  “Don’t even stress about it,” Fallon said when Zach and Caleb wandered off to go get cheeseburgers and beers for them all. “Meeting everyone can be weird. I met everyone at a paintball game and was so excited, I told Stuckey his own stats.”

  “Thanks,” she said, relieved at the other woman’s kindness. “That’s really nice of you.”

  “Just don’t let it get out.” Fallon gave her an ornery grin, nodding toward the two guys who’d been playing ping-pong and who were now making their way over. “I have a reputation as a ballbuster to uphold.”

&nb
sp; “I’ll never tell,” Zara said with a laugh as the men stopped at their table and sat down with them.

  “Oh, come on, you can tell me everything.” One of the men stuck his hand out. “Alex Christensen. You must be Zara, the woman who has our boy all twisted up six ways from Sunday.”

  God, how did she explain the straightforward plan she and Caleb had come up with that had twisted into a complicated mess all of a sudden? “It’s not like that.”

  “The Bramble dates are a PR setup? Yeah, I figured that,” the other man said, lifting his chin in greeting. “Ian Petrov.”

  “Oh, you’re Petrov,” she said, excited to have a face to put with the name. “Caleb was telling me all about how they were going to trade you if he didn’t do the dating thing. I’m so glad everything worked out.”

  The words were out of her mouth in a burst of nervous rambling, and as soon as they were, she knew she’d fucked up.

  Ian leaned forward, his eyes narrowing and his shoulders tensing. “Trade me?”

  Strike three, you’re out, Ambrose. You have officially messed up everything within the first ten minutes of being here. Way to go.

  She gulped. “I guess I forgot you didn’t know that part?”

  “No,” Ian said in a harsh voice. “Stuckey seems to have forgotten all about telling me that very vital piece of information about my career.”

  Of course, Caleb walked back to their table with two plates of cheeseburgers at that moment. Zara wanted to warn him, but she didn’t get a chance.

  “So it seems I have you to thank for my job.” But Ian didn’t sound thankful—not in the least little bit—as he stood up and faced off with Caleb. “Here I’d thought I was back in the lineup because of all that hard work I’d put in at the gym and the PT regimen that left me praying for death some days. I gave up motherfucking cookies because I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.”

  Fallon leaned over and whispered, “He loves cookies, like could-be-Santa-Claus loves them.”

  Caleb didn’t seem put out by the other man’s aggressive attitude. He just sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “And this is why I didn’t say anything to you.” Caleb laid the paper plates ladened with enough food for five on the table. “You and that big-ass chip on your shoulder because of your last name. You got your spot back all by yourself, not because of me and not because your dad’s in the Hall of Fame. You put in the work; I just made sure you had the time to make it happen.”

  The two men were practically nose to nose, chests puffed up, both of them refusing to back down. Zara opened her mouth to say something—anything—in way of an apology for causing trouble, but Fallon reached out and covered her hand, giving her a discreet nah-don’t-do-it shake of her head and mouthing the word “men” while rolling her eyes.

  “I made it happen on my own,” Ian said. “They aren’t trading me.”

  “Yeah, I know. They told me last week before they gave me the A.” Smiling, Caleb slapped his hand down on the other man’s shoulder. “The front office wants to have your damn babies now—especially after that game against Detroit. They’re looking at you like the glue this team was missing last season.”

  The vein in Ian’s temple pulsed, and his jaw was clamped shut so tightly, she worried a dentist would need to get called in to fix his teeth, but after a few tense seconds, he relaxed. “Next time, don’t think you can fly in and fix things without telling people first. You are always pulling that shit.”

  “You are,” Phillips said, sitting down at the table as if it hadn’t just been World War III. “Even with that stupid video, you took the heat on your own. You’re not alone out there, you know. We can help you, too.”

  “Jesus,” Zach grumbled, popping open two beers and handing one to Fallon. “Are you gonna sit here and talk about your feelings the whole afternoon? Because you are ruining my appetite.”

  “Always the charmer,” Fallon said, shaking her head.

  He winked at his girlfriend. “Only for you.”

  All the tension in the air around them disappeared as Zach and Fallon started eating their cheeseburgers as if Ian and Caleb hadn’t just almost come to blows. Everyone else seemed to treat the moment that way, too, walking off to grab a beer or a burger. Finally, Caleb sat down and picked up a burger from one of the overloaded plates, then pushed the plate to her.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, wondering how in the world she was going to make it up to him. “I forgot that he didn’t know.”

  “I should have told him, let him in from the beginning.” Caleb shrugged and took a bite. “I guess I’m more like my mom than I realized. She’s always pulling this crap where she thinks she knows what’s best for someone and just does it without even asking first.”

  “Kinda like suggesting the Bramble stunt to Lucy?” Fallon asked.

  Zara’s chin almost hit the table. Caleb must have been just as shocked because for once, he didn’t have a response. He just stared at Fallon, his eyes wide.

  “Why are you so shocked?” Zach asked. “You said yourself that your mom is known for her behind-the-scenes planning and play-making.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Zara said, thinking back on her interactions with Britany to see if there had been any hint, any clue that she’d missed.

  Caleb threw back his head and laughed. “I can. As she always says, you don’t get to be at the top of your game by playing it soft.” He turned to Zara, heat in his eyes. “You gotta fight to make it happen.”

  Her breath caught, and a million words swirled around in her head, all of them a bad idea when it came to keeping her heart in one piece. The truth of it was that it was already too late. Maybe not in reality, but her heart had broken rule number one, and she had no idea what to do about it.

  Before she could accidentally voice any of that, though, Ian, Cole, and Alex grabbed Caleb’s chair, carried it over to the deep end, and dumped him—burger and all—into the water. They may have been pranking Caleb, but she couldn’t help but think they’d just saved her from saying something she was bound to regret.

  It was, after all, rule number one: five dates and done.

  …

  On the day sandwiched between the team barbecue and their final preseason road trip out west, Caleb had one thing on his mind—seeing Zara. They’d been able to FaceTime a few minutes here and there, but nothing like before. She’d been working all hours to finish up her miniatures scene for the Friends of the Library silent auction during the organization’s ball in a few days. Meanwhile, he’d been spending more time in the sin bin than Coach Peppers liked after a few players got chippy with him and brought Zara into the on-ice discussion.

  But today? Today he was taking the steps up to her apartment two at a time to get to her door just a few seconds sooner. He made it to her floor, and his phone vibrated. Since he had a meeting scheduled in a little bit with Lucy, he couldn’t ignore it.

  The notification, though, wasn’t from her. It was from the Bramble app. The app’s icon now had a big red circle with the number four inside it, notifying him of how many days it had been since his first reminder to schedule date number five. He’d been ignoring the notifications, a practice he had no plans to change.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to, because the Bramble people were calling Lucy and Lucy was calling him and the whole world wanted this PR stunt wrapped up by the first game of the regular season—except for him. And that’s why he was outside of Zara’s apartment, knocking on the door instead of using the app to officially schedule their final date.

  “Hey there,” she said, using her entire body to keep an excitedly wiggling Anchovy from bursting out into the hall.

  She looked delectable. Her hair was up in a big poof on top of her head, and she had on a pair of yoga pants and an Ice Knights sweatshirt that he’d never seen her in before. If it was his number, he wasn’t going to remember his promise to himself to play it cool. There was just— She turned around to sh
ush Anchovy, and he saw the number. It was his.

  Something came over him and he swept her up, pulling the door closed behind her to block Anchovy inside, and gave in to the overwhelming need to kiss her until she forgot everything else but him. He cupped her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he was lost in the feel of her. Damn. He was so screwed, but as long as he was kissing her, he didn’t give two shits. Unfortunately, though, he’d acted before his brain had caught up, and they were definitely on the wrong side of her front door for him to get to do all the things he wanted to.

  He broke the kiss but didn’t let her down.

  “I was in the neighborhood for a meeting and thought you might have some time to go grab coffee,” he said at the same time as the dog let out a sad wail on the other side of the door. “We could take Anchovy.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Let me grab his leash.”

  He didn’t want to let her go but did anyway, staying out in the hall because he didn’t trust himself not to strip her down the second they were alone. So he watched as she hurried around the apartment, slipping on her shoes and then putting her tools away. The dollhouse she’d been working on for weeks with all the authors reading one another’s books looked finished, and it was amazing. He wanted to take a closer look but again, he’d get her naked and have her coming on his lips instead of making his can’t-miss appointment with Lucy.

  Zara grabbed her keys while Anchovy went to a basket by the door and pulled out a leash. He snapped it onto the dog’s collar, and the three of them walked down the stairs. If anyone had asked if he’d taken Zara’s hand or if she’d grabbed his, he couldn’t have answered. All he knew was that by the time they walked out into the afternoon sunshine, their feet crunching on the first fallen leaves of the season, they were holding hands.