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

really
believed she’d find Garrick goofing off, but she was concerned he might cut
reps or weights to ease the burden on his hip. Or worse, keep going when his
body was telling him to stop.
    She was good at her job, but her dictates were still best
guesses on how hard the body could be pushed, and no creature was more stubborn
about ignoring biological messages like pain than the hockey-playing male.
    Garrick had appeared only appropriately miserable, so she’d
left him to it.
    Now, though, the guilt nipped at her. His arms trembled as
he lowered himself into the hot water, obviously taking all his weight in an
effort not to rely on his legs. Usually when one of the guys was in her tub,
she would work at her desk and catch up on emails, but today she was too wound
up after that damn team meeting to sit still.
    She approached the tub quietly, careful not to brush the
thickly muscled arm running along the edge. His eyes were closed, his head
resting on the rim. Dark hair, damp with the sweat of his workout and the steam
of the tub, curled over his ears and along his neck. His long lashes rested on
flushed cheeks, a fringe of inky silk against his warm skin. He would have looked
peaceful if there hadn’t been a crease marring the skin between his eyebrows.
    “What did you think of the meeting today?” she asked.
    His eyes flashed open and he held her gaze. His dark amber irises
deepened to chocolate as she watched, fascinated, her feet rooted to the floor.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    “I don’t know. I keep telling myself it will be fine and
we’ll just have a new owner, which won’t matter much since no one ever saw the
old owner.”
    Garrick nodded, looking down at the swirling water. “I guess
that’s true.” He turned those chocolate eyes back to her. “But then why do I
feel so damn nervous?”
    Savannah sighed. “Because we’re screwed.”
    Garrick laughed, though he didn’t sound like he found it funny
at all.

Chapter Four
     
    Garrick raced back to the locker room like the rink was on
fire and the showers were the only safe place to hide. Their win that night had
been a long and hard-fought. But as much as he wanted to sit and bask in the
glory of a good night on the ice, he had other things to worry about.
    Specifically, Savannah.
    For the past few weeks she’d been a changed woman on game
nights. Now she moved around the bench, worked more proactively with the team,
and shouted encouragement like a seasoned, slightly foul-mouthed professional. The
good news was the team was starting to think of her as something other than an
uptight bitch. The bad news was her growing credibility had provoked Bobby into
finding new ways to harass her.
    She ignored Bobby at all times, Garrick had noticed. He’d
made it his habit to keep an eye on them both as much as possible. Bobby,
though, always found a way to bump into her, crowd her, or just generally make
a nuisance of himself. Like how after four years on the team, Bobby now used
the door right in front of where Savannah stood for the games instead of
jumping the boards.
    To his knowledge, she hadn’t complained to Mark about any of
it. Garrick wanted to be mad about that, but even he couldn’t point to any
particular incident where Bobby had done something wrong, per se. He was
just being an asshole in a more general sense.
    Garrick suspected the cat-and-mouse routine, in addition to
Savannah’s game duties, was exhausting for her. Tonight, apparently, she had
hit her limit.
    Bobby had come sailing through the door, caught his skate, and
careened directly into Savannah. He’d slammed her into the tunnel wall with sufficient
force to bounce her head off the concrete while pinning the rest of her with
his full weight and equipment—hockey and otherwise.
    Garrick had leapt to his feet, heart pounding, not knowing
how badly she was hurt. He’d wanted to leap the length of the bench and pound Bobby,
the stupid fucker, into the floor mats.
    But