Game On Box Set: Time Out\Her Man Advantage\Face-Off\Body Check Read online

  She hoped he felt the same way in spite of his protests the other night.

  Because she had everything riding on it.

  The period ended. She couldn’t have said what the score was, she’d been too nervous to keep track. The players were starting to file off the ice.

  “Go!” Sierra said to her, giving her a push toward the edge of the rink.

  Sam stumbled forward, realizing her hands were trembling, her knees, no doubt her inner organs were all aquiver. She was a wreck.

  She wondered if the single red rose might be too much, but it was too late now. The thing was clutched in her hand and her fingers were welded shut with sweat.

  She saw Greg, watched him with her whole heart. She loved everything about him. The shape of his head, the way he skated, a little bow legged, the way he smiled at her in that intimate way as though no one else in the world mattered.

  The scoreboard started to flash. Jarrad had come through. Instead of a silly message to support the team or an ad, the scoreboard flashed her message.

  She’d hoped that all the spectators would have bolted out of their seats to get pop or beer or take bathroom breaks by now, but it seemed as if even more people packed the rink now than when she’d first arrived.

  A buzz went through the audience as people looked at the screen and then began nudging each other, whispering, settling in for a little more entertainment.

  The huge screen said this:

  Greg Olsen. I love you. I’ll always love you. I’m ten years late, but will you marry me? I can’t live without you. Samantha.

  She kept reading those ridiculously huge neon words as though the message might mysteriously change. She didn’t know what else to do. As a nice extra-humiliating touch, a camera had now found her, and she could see herself projected on the big screen looking like the most desperate single woman in history. She wanted to flee so badly she thought she would have if her feet didn’t feel frozen to the ground. She had never, ever been so nervous in her life.

  Maybe because she’d never done anything that meant more to her.

  She felt like the entire world was staring at her.

  Except Greg.

  It hadn’t occurred to her that the players would be too busy thinking about taking a break, guzzling water and doing whatever players do between periods to check out the scoreboard.

  What if she’d done all this for nothing?

  Then one of the fans leaned over and shouted something to the exiting players. One guy glanced up. Read the screen. Laughed. Nudged another player. More laughter.

  Oh, good. She was going to be a locker-room joke. She’d never live this down. Never ever. She’d have to quit law. Move to a country where no one watched hockey, spoke English or had internet access since she could feel the number of cameras pointed her way and felt her YouTube rating going up by the nanosecond.

  At last, the pushing and laughing reached Greg. She watched him turn. Felt the moment he read her words.

  And then absolutely nothing happened.

  He didn’t rush forward onto the ice looking for her. He didn’t bolt for the locker room.

  He stood stock-still.

  Like a rock cairn in the middle of the ice. As though he was as frozen in place, and maybe in time, as she was.

  The blinking scoreboard began to look foolish. The murmurs grew sympathetic. She squeezed her eyes shut. For the first time in her life fully comprehending the meaning of the expression, she wished the floor would open and swallow her.

  And then almost in slow motion, she saw Greg turn. Scan the crowd. Jarrad had appeared from somewhere and pointed to where she stood wondering if any man was really worth humiliating herself like this.

  He skated slowly toward her and though she’d been frozen a moment ago, she grew hot, so hot that she thought she’d melt the ice if she stepped on it.

  He stopped and removed his helmet. He was two feet away from her, the boards between them along with a decade of misunderstanding.

  She waited anxiously for what he’d say. He gazed at her face with an inscrutable expression. Finally, he said, “What are you doing?”

  She swallowed hard. Now was the time for the truth in her heart. “I’m putting it all on the line. Giving you my life if you want it.”

  A bead of sweat trickled down past his hairline and he wiped at it. “You really want to marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at her. She’d never heard a rink full of people so quiet. “Is that rose for me?”

  Oh, God, he was torturing her. “Yes.” And what a stupid idea that had been.

  He sniffed. “You got a ring? I bought you a ring when I asked you.”

  She swore silently. She’d never thought that a woman provided an engagement ring when she did the asking. But then she’d never expected to be in this position.

  She tugged the old school ring she always wore off her finger. Glared at him. Enough was enough. She held it out. “And if you expect me to go down on bended knee, you can kiss my—”

  She never got the last word out. He pulled her to him so hard she lost her balance. He kissed her as though he’d been waiting ten years to kiss her exactly like this.

  She tasted the salt of his sweat, felt the stubble of his chin brush her. Then he pulled away only far enough to say, “Yes, you crazy woman. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  And then he hauled her over the barrier so they were finally free of constraint and could hold each other, full body flush against full body, kissing as though they’d never stop.

  She was vaguely aware of cheering. First from Greg’s teammates and the opposing team, none of whom had bothered to leave the ice and take a break. Then from a packed rink of crazy people. They were on their feet, as wild as though they’d watched their favorite team win a Stanley Cup victory.

  Jarrad came across the ice to where she was in Greg’s arms half laughing, half crying, and when she hugged him, he hugged her and Greg at the same time. “Glad you two finally worked it out.”

  Sierra was there and she had to have a hug, and then for some reason Greg’s entire team needed to give Sam a hug or a kiss or simply give their buddy a hard time.

  “I gotta go before the next period starts,” he finally said.

  “I love you,” she said, letting him see the truth in her eyes.

  “I love you, too. Never stopped.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Wait!” She took her ring and picked up his left hand. The ring barely fit onto his baby finger. She kissed the finger, ring and all. And then he kissed her swiftly before skating off to the dressing room. She caught the glint of her ring as he closed his fingers around it.

  What a fitting engagement ring, she realized, their high school ring. Where it all began.

  As he reached the edge of the rink he turned and their gazes connected. She wondered what the next ten years held. Knew it would be interesting, sometimes stressful, but worth it. So worth it.

  Then he laughed and pointed up to the scoreboard.

  A new message was flashing:

  He said yes! Congratulations, Samantha and Greg.

  She glanced back at her new fiancé and they exchanged a wordless message of their own.

  I love you.

  Forever.

  Juliet couldn’t have done better.

  Breakaway

  1

  “DANCING?” TAYLOR McBride let the suckitude of that word hang in the air until his agent nodded.

  “On ice?”

  Once more the disdainful tone. The nod.

  “With a figure skater?”

  This time Jeremy Barker didn’t nod, he launched into sell mode. “Look, Taylor, you need the exposure. You want to get off the farm team and into the bigs? You need to get yourself noticed. This gig’s for charity. A hunky hockey player and a cute figure skater team up and do a dance routine on ice. It’ll be fun, make a few bucks for a good cause and you’ll get yourself some profile. Also, I’ve seen Becky Haines in person.