Laces and Lace (Assassins #6) Read online

  “Asshole,” JT threw at him, but he ignored it as he looked for their friends. When he spotted his teammates Erik Titov and Phillip Anderson, he made his way toward them, ignoring the hot little hostess who was trying to catch his eye. He wouldn’t have anything to do with her. Not here. If she were in Nashville, it would be a different story, but he didn’t touch anyone in Chicago.

  It always worried him that Lacey could find out. Not that she even cared anymore. Even though a little piece of him hoped she would. He knew that was pathetic and disgusting, but he hoped anyway.

  Letting out a breath, he shook hands with his friends before dropping into the chair as Erik said, “Man, you sucked today at practice. Better clean that up before the game tomorrow. What’s up with you?”

  For shit’s sake.

  “I asked the same thing. He’s being a fucking pussy, still caught up on some girl from thirty years ago,” JT said and Karson glared.

  “Aren’t you only thirty?” Erik asked with his brow up.

  “Yeah, and fuck you, JT. Why am I even your friend?”

  “’Cause I am fucking awesome, dude. Duh,” he answered like it was as true as the sky was blue.

  Which it wasn’t. JT was kind of an asshole, but everyone still liked him for some odd reason.

  “Oh, that Lacey chick, she lives here, doesn’t she?” Phillip asked and Karson rolled his eyes.

  “Guys, let’s drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He never did. Not to anyone. Not his mom, his sister, not even his dad. Not that he would ever tell his dad anyway. They were superclose, but they didn’t talk about emotional shit at all. When Karson had come home, broken over Lacey, all his dad did was hand Karson a stick and stand in goal, blocking each shot that he shot until Karson basically collapsed to the ground in tears and exhaustion. Even then, his dad simply patted him on the back before walking away. Karl King didn’t do emotion. But he must have told his mom because Regina King was out there in a second, fussing and fawning over him.

  As she held him tight in her arms, all Karson could do was wish that he could do it all over again.

  He would have chosen her.

  He wouldn’t have given in to her father and allowed him to ruin them. He would have told him to fuck off and prayed that he could give Lacey the life she deserved. He was pretty sure he could have too. He went third in the draft, first round. He didn’t even go into the AHL; he went straight into the pros, playing for the Lightning with a great contract. He loved Tampa; it was great but it wasn’t home, and most of the time he was just lost, trying to mend the pieces of his broken heart.

  After playing for six years with them, he was traded to the Assassins, and crazily enough, he felt as if he was finally home. It was weird. He had been with the same group of guys for six years and hadn’t felt as comfortable as he did when he stepped into the Assassins’ locker room. It wasn’t just a team; it was a family. For the last three years, he had played great hockey but also had become part of an extended family. He loved the Assassins, minus JT, but he knew he would give it all up for her.

  He once tried to do just that too.

  After a year apart, when he knew he was settled and was sure he could take care of her if her cancer came back, he tried to contact her, but that went south quickly. Grady, her brother, threatened to kill him, and her dad changed her phone number, but that didn’t derail him. He was about to go to Chicago to see if he could get her back, but what stopped him was when his coach bumped him down to the fourth line, saying he wasn’t performing the way he should. Karson knew it was all crap, that it was Nate Martin warning him to stay away. And like a coward, he again did what Nate Martin wanted and again chose hockey over Lacey.

  At that point, he decided he didn’t deserve her and left her alone, even though it didn’t feel right. He was young and stupid though because now, he would give it all up. Everything. Because what is a life without love?

  It’s cold. Lonely. Worthless.

  Yeah, he didn’t go without a warm body to keep him entertained, but it wasn’t love. It was a quick act of pleasure, and then they were gone. He tried once to date, but that was a disaster. Every girl he dated, he would compare her to Lacey. And since Lacey was on the highest pedestal ever, no one could amount to her. It was sad, and when Kacey, his sister, joked once that he was never going to get married, he knew she was right. Not unless it was to Lacey.

  Which would never happen.

  “Karson? You there?”

  Karson looked up from where he was staring at the white plate in front of him to meet Phillip’s annoyed gaze. “Sorry, what?”

  “The waitress would like to know what you would like?”

  Lacey. He’d love to have the chance to love her again.

  “A shot of tequila and a beer, please.”

  “Whoa, killer, we have a game tomorrow afternoon,” Erik reminded him and Karson nodded.

  “Two drinks won’t kill me,” he answered as he leaned back in his chair, his mind flooded with thoughts of Lacey.

  It was as if a movie of their whole relationship, their breakup, everything was playing in his head. It was like he was standing there, reliving it, remembering the first time his eyes set on her, sitting up in the stands watching him practice. Or when she would study, drinking a mocha coffee and getting so lost in her books. The first time she showed him her scarred, deflated breasts from the cancer, and all he could do was think how strong and beautiful she was. Making sweet love to her for the first time and then asking her to follow him wherever he went. And then finally, when she broke down in front of him as he told her he couldn’t be with her anymore. He was a liar. A coward. He didn’t deserve her back then, but man, he wished he could do it all over again. He wished he could kiss her lips again, feel the softness and taste the sweetness of them. Feel her in his arms as they molded into one. He just wished he had another chance. Just one. He wouldn’t fuck up a second time.

  Maybe he should seek her out, but as soon as that thought came to mind, his chest seized as his breath came out in a whoosh.

  Man, he hated this city.

  It fucked with him to the fullest.

  “I think we lost him again,” Erik said as Karson looked up at the ceiling, pulling in a deep breath.

  “Yeah, he’s gone. Idiot,” JT muttered.

  The sooner he could get out of this city, the better.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  Lacey Martin glanced back at her longtime best friend and sister-in-law, Rachel, and shook her head.

  “I told you, if you don’t like the pictures, we can nix the idea, but at least let’s try. It will be good for the business.”

  Lacey’s brows shot up. “Who thinks that? Because I don’t see how posing in my own lingerie is going to drive sales.”

  Rachel set her with a look while the models that Rachel had hired, Carey, Winnie, and Amy, smiled tentatively. Lacey didn’t mind them; she thought they were sweet, but they agreed with Rachel on the photo shoot idea, and she didn’t like that. Not when she was doing everything in her power to nix it. Yes, she understood that it was good marketing to be in magazines, blogs, and all over Pinterest, but couldn’t they hire actual models for this? Why in the world did she and Rachel have to be a part of this?

  “Your dad and Grady think it’s a wonderful idea,” she said, but Lacey didn’t believe that at all.

  “My father and brother think it would be a good idea for their daughter slash sister and daughter-in-law slash wife to pose in lace solely to get sales?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I left that part out.”

  Lacey laughed. “So when the pictures come out and I’m not in a pantsuit, we could have problems from the Martin men?”

  “Who cares? This is your company—we do what we want,” Rachel announced and Lacey’s brows shot up again.

  “Are you going to say that when we get bitched at?”

  “Yes, I am. We look gorgeous, and we are going