Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and moved toward the door. “Come to my
office. I have something you can take and we’ll do some stretching. Maybe stick
you in the tub.”
    He opened his mouth to decline, to steer clear of the lovely
Savannah and her lair. But a soak in the tub would be bliss for his sore hip and
ease the tight muscles in his groin. He could only hope the deep water would
disguise any other groin issues, should they arise.
    “Okay, sure.”
    Bobby leaned against the wall just inside the door to the
hallway, his eyes fixed on Savannah. Garrick stepped forward—without anything
resembling a hitch in his gait, damn it—and crowded Bobby back against the wall,
blocking his view. He held a hand out to indicate Savannah should precede him
through the door.
    He was enjoying being able to fuck with Bobby and appear
chivalrous all at once—a win-win for him—until Savannah shot him a dirty look.
    Right. Not supposed to treat her differently than the
guys.
    He smiled at Rhian instead. “Come on, Rhi, let’s get going.”
    He fought not to laugh at Rhian’s deadpan stare. Garrick didn’t
often hold the door for the perfectly capable defenseman as if he were the
Queen of England. Indeed, this was a first. Luckily, Rhian caught on.
    With a smirk, Rhian leaned down to murmur in Savannah’s ear.
“Excuse me.”
    She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and passed through the
door. Rhian shot him a quizzical look and Garrick tilted his head toward the
locker room, indicating he’d explain later.
    Now, though, he had a date with a beautiful woman and her
hot tub.
     
    Savannah almost felt guilty when Garrick let out a long,
painful groan as he slowly lowered himself into her tub. The cistern was filled
with one hundred and three degree water that reached the middle of Garrick’s bare
chest, which she studiously pretended not to notice at all.
    Though, she’d have to be dead not to admire the heavy swell
of muscle. The skin stretched over each curving pectoral appeared velvet soft,
his cinnamon nipples puckered tight in spite of the warm water and steam. His
shoulders were possibly the broadest she’d ever laid her hands on—professionally
or otherwise. Certainly the thickest, her hand barely able to span their width while
stretching him.
    He’d come to her office after the team meeting earlier,
pretending his hip wasn’t killing him. As if she couldn’t see that from
a mile out in poor visibility. He’d eagerly asked her for “at least four”
ibuprofen before promising he’d go change into something he could wear in the
tub and come right back.
    The crestfallen look on his face when she’d informed him he
wasn’t that lucky and she wasn’t that careless had been priceless. She’d forced
him up on the table to investigate with her own eyes and hands.
    Finally, after the second wince he couldn’t hide, he sighed.
“It’s arthritis, okay? Just send me off to the nursing home already.”
    She’d laughed. “No shit it’s arthritis. But it’s been there
are all season and not bothered you this much before.”
    He’d been surprised she’d known. Men were always convinced
of two things. One, that they should never admit to any physical ailment or
weakness. And two, that this actually worked as a means of hiding these
weaknesses from the women who cared about them.
    Not that she cared about Garrick. Well, she did. The way she
cared about all her players and their physical condition. It was her job.
    They’d worked through a vigorous set of stretches together,
then she’d sent him to the weight room to do more, and to get on the equipment
and run through the standard program she’d developed for him at the beginning
of the season, with a few modifications. In the meantime, she worked with a couple
of other players, stopping by the weight room under the guise of showing Alexei
Belov, the Ice Cat’s primary goalie and resident crazy Russian, a leg stretch
that worked best while straddling the bench press. Not that she’d