Wedding Rings & Champions: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 8) Read online

  Chapter 1

  "Get the motherfucker!"

  Chris Worthington smiled at the enthusiastic Gulls fans as they pounded on the glass so hard, it wobbled. Typically, he couldn't hear what was shouted at him during the games - whether they were from fans or coaches - but this was a special occasion. Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals was in Orlando, Florida, and Newport Beach Gulls fans had made the twenty-five hundred trek from the Southern California beach town to home of Disney World. There were more here than he expected, probably because this was the first time in the twenty years of Gulls' history that they had made playoffs, much less the Stanley Cup Finals. Also, because if the Gulls won, they were crowned as Stanley Cup Champions.

  It was the start of the second period and Chris sat on the bench, waiting for Cherney to throw him into the game. As a third line left winger, he typically played anywhere from eleven to fifteen minutes in a sixty-minute game. Every time his skates touched the ice, he made the most of it.

  James Negan won the faceoff and the game began.

  It was four minutes and thirty-two seconds when Chris was finally thrown into the game. Orlando's ice was notorious for being okay at best, and he had to make sure he kept his eye out for places with too much water and a bouncing puck. It gave the Florida Gatotrs an advantage, however; they knew how to play in the circumstances while Chris did not.

  Chris kept his head down and skated after the puck. He crashed into a body in the boards and a penalty was called.

  "Bull fucking shit!" Chris yelled, rolling his eyes before curling his gloved fingers tight around his stick. He couldn't lose his temper. If he wasn't careful, he could get a misconduct and then thrown out of the game. And that was the last thing he wanted.

  He skated over to the box - a place where skaters had to sit for a certain amount of time - while his team played short, trying to defend the opponent and their advantage.

  When he plopped down, he let his stick fall forward, but kept hold of the shaft. He did not like to leave his stick unattended.

  Chris kept his eyes on the game. He never got nervous except when he was in the box. If they scored, even if it was a dumb penalty for the ref to have called, he always felt responsible. As such, he rarely if ever grabbed a gulp of the Gatorade placed inside the box for players, he ignored the fans that pounded on the box, trying to gather his attention. Instead, he kept his eyes peeled in front of him, focused on the game. Each time the Gulls managed to ice the puck, he felt the tension ease slightly. Each time the Gators managed to bring it back into the zone, he tensed back up.

  When there was ten seconds left in his penalty, he stood. A man in a suit stood next to the door, his hand on the knob so he could whip it open for Chris the minute the countdown hit zero.

  It was the longest ten seconds of the game. He glanced over at Cherney, who gestured at the net. Good. Chris was allowed to redeem himself and go help collect the puck in hopes to attack the Gators' zone. While he didn't agree he boarded Williams, Chris would have to make sure his hits were more agreeable. Penalties were not something he liked taking.

  He took off the minute his skates touched the ice. He battled low, throwing his body where it needed to be. He managed to grab the puck and pass it up to Zachary Ryan. Ryan flew down the ice. He wasn't known for his speed. The bastard was tall and solid and had a shot Chris didn't want to stand in front of, but somehow, his feet were light, and his stickhandling was both quick and deceiving.

  One slapshot and it was buried in the corner of the net.

  The barn of spectators started booing but Chris could make out some of the Gulls fans standing up in their navy blue jerseys, jumping up and down, not caring that they were few.

  Chris allowed himself to quirk his lips into a smile. They were on the board. One to zero.

  But now, they needed to focus and get another one. And then another, until the final horn sounded and the Gulls were announced as winners.

  - - -

  There were no more goals scored in the game. It was Zachary Ryan's, given to him by Chris Worthington, that won the game.

  Sticks were thrown in the air, as were gloves, helmets, and other equipment. Tears sprang into the eyes of Negan, Dimitri Petrov. Even Brandon Thorpe, one of the most stoic men Chris had ever met, couldn't stop smiling. The Gators were upset, some even crying, for good reason. But they still lined up, they still shook hands, and they skated off in silence, giving the shitty ice to the Gulls to celebrate.

  The Commissioner, a man everyone hated because of a long-standing tradition, came out, made a speech, and presented Brandon Thorpe the Stanley Cup Champion. Everyone booed during the speech - as was tradition - and the majority of the fans started to exit the stadium while others, even Gator fans, stayed to watch the festivities.

  Brandon was given the Cup first. He was captain and he played a damn fine series - a damn fine playoffs. Chris watched with amusement as Brandon - now without his mask, his gloves - took the cup and hoisted it over his head, skating up and down the ice before handing it over to Zachary Ryan.

  From there, Brandon did something nobody expected. Once he handed the Cup off, he skated straight to the bench where Seraphina Hanson - owner and manager of the team - stood, clapping and cheering next to her older sister, Katella, and pulled her into a deep kiss. Chris couldn't stop himself from smiling. Everyone on the team knew these two were together, even if they thought they were hiding it. They were doing a shitty job of it because the way they looked at each other, the way they accidentally touched each other, it was obvious for someone like Chris - who had never considered himself as being in love before - to see.

  Soon, the team was doing surprising displays of affection - Negan swept Katella up and skated with her around the ice as she pounded on his back; Kyle Underwood dropped to his knees so he could give the now-showing Emma a kiss on her stomach; Alec kissed his girl; Drew Stefano, Art Jackman, Dean Morgan, and Zachary Ryan pulled their women in passionate embraces.

  The person who surprised Chris the most was Dimitri Petrov, who pulled the red headed former Ice Princess into a kiss, with his kids right there. Chris knew Dimitri was going through his own divorce - and he was too good looking to stay single for very long - but to see him with someone who was clearly younger than he was, was a bit of a shock.

  "Good for you," Chris murmured to himself.

  It took a moment before Chris got his turn. When Matt Peters handed him the Cup, his hands tingle. It was heavier than he expected it to be, but Chris didn't waver. He hoisted it over his head, just as everyone else had done, and skated the length of the ice. Before he passed it off to Solis, He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

  There was no one waiting for him, save for his sister, Isadora. He grinned when he saw her and embraced her. She hugged him back before pulling away and smacking his shoulder.

  "God, you smell," she said. "Did Dad teach you nothing about taking care of your smelly equipment?"

  Chris nodded his head, pulling Isadora closer to him by tossing one arm over her shoulder. "Damn straight," he said. "He taught me the value of superstition. I haven't washed these in years."

  Isa pushed him off of her once more, causing him to toss his head back and laugh.

  "Kidding," he insisted. "Come on, kidding."

  She smiled but made no move to get closer to him. Chris couldn't blame her.

  As he watched everyone find their family, he glanced up at the ceiling. He wished his father had been here to see this, but his father had been gone for two years now. No matter. Once it was summer and he could fly hom
e to Michigan, he would visit his father's grave with the Cup and tell him everything.

  But not now. It was not a time to mourn. It was a time to celebrate. He could hear his father's voice even now berate him for turning an important moment sappy and then lightly slap the back of his head to ensure his point sank in. Chris chuckled at the thought, sinking in.

  "Wish you had someone to make out with now that you're a Champion?" Isa asked, crossing her arms over her chest to give the team a quizzical look.

  "You don't have to be so judgmental, you know," Chris chided her. "And to answer your question, I am perfectly content being single. I plan to drink until I can't throw up anymore, buy a tiger, and maybe leave Solis up on the roof of a hotel."

  "As long as you wear a fanny pack, you do you." She slapped his back supportively.

  "Satchel," he corrected. "It's a satchel."

  Before Isa could respond, the NHL Commissioner walked back to the podium.

  "Congratulations go to the Newport Beach Seagulls," he said. "Now, I'll let Seraphina Hanson take the podium." He stepped back and looked to Seraphina, who was still wrapped up in Brandon's arms.

  She felt her lips curl up and pulled away from Brandon to carefully make her way on the ice. Luckily, there was a narrow carpet which had been rolled out so she could walk on the ice in those heels without slipping and falling. When she reached the podium, she placed both hands on either side and smiled.

  "Um, honestly, I hadn't expected to say anything so I'm not really prepared," she said. "Obviously, I want to say thank you to the Florida Gators and the competitive games they played against us were entertaining to say the least. This Cup, this belongs to the players and the coaches. But more than that, every single person of the organization deserves their share of the credit. From the security guards to the secretaries to Cherney and everyone else, this is yours. My grandfather -" she stopped abruptly, her voice catching as tears filled her eyes. She cleared her throat. "My grandfather would have been so proud of each and every one of you. Congratulations, Gulls. We did it!"

  Brandon Thorpe was announced as Most Valuable Player, another award that was well-deserved. Unlike Seraphina, Brandon opted to not make a speech, which was fine. He didn't need to. His play spoke for itself.

  Chris glanced up at the stands. Over half the stadium was empty, but the Gulls fans were at the glass, pounding, shouting, crying, and laughing.

  I wish you were here, Dad, he thought to himself. You would have enjoyed this almost as much as I do.

  After the festivities, the team lined up behind Thorpe and skated one more time around the rink, waving, smiling, thanking their fans. Chris tried to memorize this moment, this feeling, not wanting to forget one second of it years from now when he was old and grey.

  It was official. The Newport Beach Sea Gulls were Stanley Cup Champions. Now, it was time to party.

  Chapter 2

  Natalie Bowman slid up her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose as she looked up from her computer. Her two friends, Cameron and Drew, were standing at the entrance of her cubicle with small smiles on their faces and something in their hands - something that looked like Apple Crumble Pie from Polly's Pie. Drew carried a plastic container that looked like it might have ice cream in it.

  "What's this for?" Natalie asked, dropping her hands from her keyboard, focusing her attention on the pie rather than Cam or Drew. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her lips curling up as she breathed in the smell.

  "We heard what happened between you and Dan," Cam said, her voice hushed. "For the record, I always thought that guy was an asshole who didn't deserve you."

  "All he could talk about was hockey and the Gulls and playoffs." Drew shook her head, making a face as she did so. "What a waste of time, you know? Not that you can't enjoy a sport, obviously, but he just didn't have his priorities straight, you know? Anyway, we know this is your favorite so we grabbed a whole pie."

  Natalie smiled and moved her keyboard to the side so Cam could place the pie in front of her. After checking her simple, silver wrist watch that decorated her right wrist, she took the offered ice cream container and opened it. Drew handed her a spoon and Natalie began scooping the French vanilla and placing it on the warmed slice of pie.

  "That's not all, Nat," Cam said. Without looking up, Natalie noticed Drew and Cam exchange a look. Drew pushed hair away from her face and Cam shifted her weight. "So Drew and I were planning to go to Vegas this weekend in order to visit Drew's cousins. They're getting married in a few weeks -"

  "Not to each other," Drew interrupted to clarify.

  "-and they invited Drew to celebrate the festivities."

  "Festivities?" Natalie asked before taking a bite of the warm pie. She closed her eyes, basking in its deliciousness. The ice cream offered the perfect contrast to the flaky goodness.

  "You know," Drew said, waving her hand the way she usually did when she spoke. "Get a few drinks, gamble, dance at clubs, and maybe take in the Scottish Strip Show,"

  "Men in kilts," Cam said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Yum."

  Not as yum as this pie, Natalie thought.

  "Anyway," Drew said, curling an errant strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "We wanted to know if you'd like to come with us. You and Bruce were together, like, seven years -"

  "More like ten," Natalie said before she took another bite of pie. Ten years. They met in high school, when Natalie was a sophomore and Bruce was a junior. They stayed together through college, traveled after graduation, and Bruce got a job as a resident at Hoag Hospital in Newport while Natalie went back to school to get a degree in business.

  "Right," Drew said with a nod. "Ten years, and the bastard decides to cheat on you."

  "Well, he could have been cheating on me much longer than over this past weekend." Natalie adjusted her glasses again as she finally spoke the thoughts that had been warring with her head over the weekend. "I only happened to catch him over the weekend. I guess it was a blessing in disguise, being sent home so early. I really thought they would consider my proposal, but it looks like Green doesn't want the expansion in Kentucky - at least not yet."

  "Our hotel chain isn't meant for Kentucky," Cam said. "It's a beach inn dressed up as suites. It's meant for coasts."

  Drew nudged Cam. "You're getting off track here, Cam," she said. "We wanted to know if you wanted to come to Vegas this weekend with us, get your mind off of the douchebag, and just let loose."

  "I mean," Natalie said, setting her spoon down. "I've never been to Vegas. The last ten years of my life, I've been in a serious, committed relationship. Technically, a domestic partner. He's the only guy I've ever been with. It's going to take a lot longer than just a weekend. And plus, I've never been to Vegas."

  Someone walked by at that moment and Drew and Cam pressed their lips together, waiting for him to pass.

  "Look," Drew said, dropping her voice, once he had passed. "Vegas isn't the sort of place where you need to have gone to enjoy it. You're single now. Think of it your jump back into your single life."

  Natalie turned back to the pie. "I don't need to jump back into the single life," she said. "I'm here. I broke up with Bruce. We're not even living together anymore. I have twenty-seven days to figure out how I'm going to pay my rent. The last thing I want to do is move in with my mother."

  "You could always stay with me," Cam said. "Granted, I'm living in a studio so I'm at capacity when it comes to space, but you're always welcome."

  "And we have a couch," Drew pointed out. "Me and Andrew, I mean. It isn't very comfortable, but it's yours. Just until you get back on your feet. If you want it, of course."

  Natalie placed her hands on her thighs, a small smile on her face. "Thanks," she said. "I really appreciate it. And maybe I'll be ready for Vegas later. But for now, I'm just trying to keep my head above water. I want things to be as normal as possible. And that means staying in our apartment." She shook her head. "Sorry, my apartment." She cleared her throat, tryin
g to rid herself of the lump accumulating in her throat. She could feel her eyes get misty, so she bowed her head forward, hoping her chestnut brown hair would fall into her face and mask her silence. "Anyway, thanks for the pie, but I should get back to these accounts."

  "Oh, okay." Cam straightened, her arms falling to her side.

  "Well, if you change your mind," Drew said. "Call me on my cell. We can snag you a ticket to Vegas for cheap, no problem."

  Natalie smiled and turned back to the pie. "Thanks for this," she said before grabbing her keyboard and clicking back to her project. She highly doubted she would be calling Drew for that ticket to Vegas. She was barely in the mood to go to work, much less Vegas.

  - - -

  By the time Natalie returned to the apartment she shared - had shared - with Bruce, she was ready to collapse. Typing away on her computer was only one aspect of her job. When she wasn't traveling, she was keeping track of the various accounts Seaside Suites had with vendors and visiting different locations for potential expansion. She wore a variety of hats at her job and always came home exhausted. All she wanted to do was collapse, maybe take a bath and read a book.