Page 14 of Hard to Handle

“Hunter. I—”

“Ah, if it isn’t the Ice King and the Frigid Queen,” Katzen, the LumberJacks goalie says as he stumbles over and hangs an arm on the back of my chair where Hunter’s just moved his from.

“Hey, Katz,” I say but my eyes go right back to Hunter.

“Drunk as always,” Hunter says and presses his palm against Katz’s chest to push him back.

“Fuck yes, I am. We won. You rocked. I got a little playing time.” He laughs at his own joke considering as their goalie he was protecting the net, saving goals left and right, the entire game. “And shit—you are looking mighty fine tonight, Miss Kincade,” he slurs as he draws out the word Miss.

The muscle in Hunter’s jaw ticks, and I shake my head to try and stop him from acting on whatever darkness I see in his eyes. With his recent antics, I’m not exactly sure I trust he won’t use force to move Katz away from me.

“I’m looking fine every night,” I say with a wink, knowing the rumors about him and his drinking are more truth than fiction. Guys like Katz are a dime a dozen and working in this industry has taught me how to take care of myself and push back. “A good agent would remind you that hockey is your job, and that hangover you’re angling for isn’t going to help your stats any.”

Katz makes a hissing sound. “Did you just burn me?” He laughs. “See? That’s why we call you the Frigid Queen, cold as ice and not afraid to burn anyone at the stake.”

“Dramatics get you nowhere.” I chuckle to play off his moniker, but hate that it irks me.

Katz sets his empty glass down and looks from me to Hunter and then back. “You know? You guys make a cute couple. You should really do something about that. The two of you together. You and your captaining,” he says, pushing on Hunter’s shoulder then turning toward me, “and you and your bossiness.” His laugh is obnoxious and over the top. “Like sleep together or make a porn or something hot like that . . . but then again, coupling isn’t really Hunter’s strong suit . . . but it could be mine.”

In the morning he’ll feel like an ass for hitting on me. I know this, he’ll know this, but the tightening of Hunter’s fists tell me his temper is flaring regardless. His forgiveness isn’t as readily available as mine. And I’m not sure if I should be flattered or pissed at his overprotectiveness when he has zero claim on me.

“Hey Katz,” I say and rise from my seat, going for shock value to deescalate the tension. “I’d say Hunter is the type to be more into fucking than coupling . . . and uh, how do you know we haven’t already? Those memories of us together. On the kitchen counter. In the nightclub at Mandalay Bay. In the press box before a game.” I groan overdramatically. “Those are what keep me satisfied on those cold, lonely nights.”

“What?” Katz screeches, body jolting, as I put an arm around his shoulder.

“Get real,” I say and push him away playfully, refusing to meet Hunter’s eyes, knowing one glance and Katz will know the truth. “I’d never sleep with a hockey player. They’re all stick and no finesse. A discerning woman likes slow. She likes skill. She likes to know that once the goal is scored he still has more in the tank.”

“Stick. Skill. Finesse,” Katz murmurs.

“Damn straight. Stick. Skill. Finesse.” I stand on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, my voice lowering as I say, “I’ve yet to find a hockey player who can deliver that.”

“Maybe you’ve dated the wrong hockey players, then,” Katz replies.

“Maybe I should be worried that you’re more concerned with Hunter’s between-the-sheets tendencies instead of his on-the-ice skills.”

“Fuck off,” he says with a wave of his hand but with a grin a mile wide. “I like you, you know that?” He nudges Hunter and shakes his head. “She gives as good as she gets.”

Hunter bristles at the double entendre that Katz probably has no clue he managed.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady, Katz. Remember what I said. Finesse.” I look around the bar and then back to the two men—one drunk and careless, the other tense and on edge. “It was a pleasure, gentleman, but I must be heading out. I expect to see that finesse on the ice next game.”

“And you’re here why?” Hunter asks with just the hint of a smile curling his lips. One that screams arrogance and sexiness and makes me wonder if he’s trying to figure a way to get me back in his bed tonight.

No way.

No how.

This will be a strictly professional trip.

“I’m traveling with the team for the next however long. Call it customer maintenance.” I shrug coyly. “That’s why.”

And without another word, I walk out of the bar with my head held high while holding on to tonight’s small win.

Hunter Maddox came to me.

That’s a start.

CHAPTER SEVEN