 
Melting

the

Ice

## The Savannah Slashers Series

### BOOK 2

Melting the Ice

By April Cronin

Copyright © 2016 April Cronin

ISBN-13: 978-1-370-73550-1

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the author.

Cover Art by Clinton Williams Art

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks;

Without you, there would be no Donovan!

And for my wonderful friend Tracy;

Thank you for bringing Lacy to life!

### Chapter 1

The Accident

"Hey man, are you sure you're okay to drive?" Donovan asked his cousin Steve, as he nearly stumbled over the edge of the sidewalk on his way down into the parking lot.

"Yeah, I'm cool. I only had a couple." He replied slurring his words ever so slightly.

Donovan reached out and touched him on the shoulder, "and I haven't had any. Why don't you just give me the keys Steve?"

Steve snorted, "no way! Why would I let your crazy ass behind the wheel of my car? You must be out of your mind!"

Looking at the car in question, a sleek red stingray corvette, Donovan almost laughed. "Dude, I could buy that car three times over and not even break a sweat!"

"Whatever man, fuck you. Just get in," Steve retorted as he opened the driver's side door and slumped behind the wheel.

This was a mistake, and Donovan knew it.

But once Steve set his mind to something, drunk or not, there wasn't a chance in hell anyone could change it. He should probably just call a cab or shit, they weren't that far from his place, he could probably walk it, but damn it was cold.

Donovan pulled his jacket closer around him and slipped into the passenger seat of Steve's car. Making sure his seat belt was secure he tried one more time to plead some sanity into his cousin.

It was of course, to no avail.

Steve gave his dark head a shake and turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as he pumped the gas for effect.

"Take it easy will you?" Donovan cautioned, gripping the edges of his seat as Steve peeled out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of Donovan's condo.

"Don't be such a little pussy Donny," Steve grumbled. "I barely hit sixty going around that turn."

"Seriously man, I have a game tomorrow. I'd like to make it to work alive."

Steve laughed and gunned it as they hit the highway.

This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. In fact, the whole night had been a bad idea.

Steve had moved from Canada, into the home office/ guest room at Donovan's a little more than a few weeks ago, picking up a job at the rink once his visa had been approved.

Cousins, Steve being the son of Donovan's aunt on his mother's side, they had pretty much grown up together. Only a few months and a couple of streets apart, they lived in the same neighborhood, the one his parents still lived in and had attended the same schools.

Steve's father had walked out on him as a baby, so being a single mother, Steve's mom spent every free moment hanging out with her sister at Donovan's family home. So he and Steve were pretty much inseparable as youngsters. However, once they were in high school, they steadily grew apart. Donovan excelled academically and devoted himself to hockey. While Steve was a clown, a slacker, and barely graduated.

For the last nine years, Donovan had been the alternate captain of the NHL Slashers and along with his Captain Dean, was the highest-paid member of the team. While Steve worked dead end job after dead end job, barely scraping by. So when Steve's mother passed away from breast cancer a few months ago, Donovan asked Steve to move in with him and got him a job running the Zamboni and doing maintenance around the rink.

With the money he got from his mother's life insurance policy, Steve bought himself the little classic T-top corvette, using the rest of the money to pay off any outstanding debt. So other than the car, he moved into Donovan's with little more than the clothes on his back.

Another mistake.

Donovan liked his privacy. He enjoyed coming home to an empty place. No pets, no kids, no wife. That's the way he liked it. His bachelor pad. Well, sort of. The kitchen was top notch, the man liked to cook, the living room cozy and the bedroom meant to be slept in.

He had a home office, and a couple of bathrooms also designed for comfort, because hell, who wouldn't want to watch TV when they were taking a dump? But what would have been his guest room, well, that was his space. A nicely lit up cabinet for all his awards and display pieces, three big screen TVs so he could watch multiple games at once, a huge sectional, a mini bar, and rounding it off was a popcorn maker and a hot dog roller, the works. Because a man never knew when he might be hungry or thirsty while watching the latest sporting event.

Coming home to Steve and his messy antics hadn't been part of his plan.

Rather than mess with the man cave, though, Donovan went out and bought a state of the art Murphy bed system and installed it in his office. With a little maneuvering, the room did double duty just fine. Of course, Steve made himself right at home in the man cave as well. The man simply had no boundaries, he didn't seem to care where he passed out.

On the couch, on the bed, in his car, hell even a booth at the local bar wasn't out of the realm of possibilities when it came to Steve and sleeping. Donovan was convinced the man could pretty much sleep anywhere.

And how many times now had the bartender down at some spot or another called Donovan on a regular basis to come and pick his drunk and passed out ass up off their floor? Yeah, letting Steve move in with him had been a mistake. Family or not, he should have never extended the offer.

He only had himself to blame, though. Well, maybe Amie's stupid friend a little too.

Another sore spot for sure. Shortly after the new year, an article in the tabloids had painted Donovan an ugly shade of man whore. There was a picture of Donovan and Whitney, a very drunk Whitney at that, and she was seemingly hanging all over him. They were at a local charity event, and as Amie was busy wrapping up a shoot in Cabo for a new swimsuit ad she was doing, Donovan had asked Dean's sister Whitney to attend with him.

Another mistake. Seemed like he was making a lot of those lately.

Whitney was certainly what one might call a 'free spirit' but as she was the sister of his best friend and teammate, there had never been anything intimate between him and Whitney, it didn't matter that she was a total knockout, she was like the sister he never had.

But that night, well, Whitney had a little trouble holding her alcohol. Or maybe it was the acid she had dropped earlier in the night. Whatever it was, she was a hot mess, and Donovan had to practically carry her out of the place. Hence what the cameras had picked up.

Then there was a cozy shot of Donovan and Riley, a friend of Dean's fiancée, Abby. The picture had been taken the night Dean had first met Abby, they were in a bar, a really loud bar, so he and Riley had leaned in kind of close so that they could talk.

It didn't matter that he had only hung out with Riley so that Dean could get close to Abby, or that they had later face-timed Amie, the two girls spending almost an hour chatting about cosmetics and bathing suits. The press had their damning pictures and that's all they cared about.

There were various other shots of him with fans too, them hugging him or kissing his cheek, and one with Donovan and Denise, the wife of his goalie Francois Baudin. The two went out to lunch together one day so that Donovan could help her pick out a new watch for France's birthday. Nothing sinister there, but the picture of them hugging was enough to cast doubt in the minds of millions of fans.

He was the Patrick Sharp (while playing for the Blackhawks he'd been accused of sleeping with a teammate's wife) of the Slashers. Sleeping with every woman that came within two feet of him, even if they were married to his own teammates!

Of course, Amie hadn't believed it, any of it. Didn't matter, though, they were both just so busy with their careers lately, they hadn't had much time for each other. So, in the end, Amie's jealous friend, Candace, the one who had hired a P.I. to take the pictures and send them off to various tabloids, had gotten what she wanted.

Donovan and Amie broke up. He cared about Amie, a lot, and Amie had cared about him too, but sometimes, things just didn't work out the way you hoped they would. So because he was lonely, he called Steve. And because he was lonely, he invited Steve to stay with him.

So essentially, this was all that little tramp's fault.

Because of her, and in his mind obviously not because of circumstances he couldn't control, Donovan was clinging for dear life to the seat of his cousin's car as they barreled down the highway at speeds he didn't even want to consider.

"It's Saturday man!" his cousin had said that night before they went out. "We're both good looking single guys, let's get drunk and pick up some tail!"

As a rule, Donovan didn't drink the night before a game, in fact, he wasn't much of a drinker period. Unless he was grilling, because if he were being honest, grilling was a drinking sport, everyone knew that.

So instead, he watched his cousin pound a couple of shots and gulp down a few pints as he embarrassed himself miserably with the ladies. It was the highlight of the whole evening really. Steve wasn't a bad looking guy, but he certainly took after his father, as his mother was more on the fair side. Steve was of average height, with a beer gut and thinning dark hair. He had brown eyes and a big nose. His smile was his one redeeming asset. He, like Donovan, had inherited that from his mother's side of the family.

Straight, white teeth, full lips and a sure as shit cocky grin. It was heart stopping when used correctly.

Of course, once he had a few drinks in him, that smile didn't matter so much with the obscenities he was spewing. Women were NOT impressed.

Wearing a Slasher's cap pulled low, and his favorite bomber jacket with the collar up, Donovan was able to go unnoticed for the most part, so he sat back sipping on a coke as he watched Steve make an ass of himself.

At that point, it hadn't seemed like such a waste of an evening, but now... Well, now was a different matter altogether. He shouldn't have let Steve drive; they should've taken his Escalade like he had suggested. Of course, Steve was insolent and demanded they cruise 'in style' in his Corvette. Because a black Escalade with rims and a killer media package wasn't style. Whatever.

As they took their exit a little too tight, and the wheels of the Corvette scrambled to grab the pavement, Donovan levered his right hand against the window and cursed under his breath.

"Slow the fuck down would you!" He nearly shouted.

Steve turned to face him and laughed again, throwing his head back, "is the big bad hockey player scared?" he mocked.

Just then a deer darted into the road.

"Shit, a deer!" Donovan screamed, "watch the fucking road, Steve! Look out!"

Steve turned back just in time to miss the deer, but overcorrected, sending them skittering across the two lane road and down the left side of the embankment.

As the back end of the car clipped the edge of a guardrail it went airborne, rolling over a couple of times before it ultimately slammed into a large oak tree, miraculously coming to a stop upright again.

The sounds of broken glass and twisting metal reverberated in Donovan's ears as his face made contact with the dashboard, blood, warm and metallic smelling seeped from a gash on his forehead. But he was alive. He sat there for a moment, just breathing, trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts. What had just happened?

There was a deer. Had they hit the deer? No. No, they hadn't hit the deer. The guardrail! They hit the guardrail and flipped! Oh God, his head was pounding. Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone dialing 911.

"911, what is your emergency?" The operator stated.

"I've just been in an accident, I'm off highway 80 near Skidway Drive. We're down the embankment, we've hit a tree," Donovan croaked. He had the phone held between his head and his right shoulder and used his right hand to slowly take stock of his injuries. Noticing he couldn't move the left side of his upper body.

"Is everyone okay?" The operator asked. Donovan could hear their fingers clicking on the keys as they pinpointed his location.

"I. I don't know." Donovan painfully looked over to the driver's seat to find it empty. "My cousin, my cousin isn't in the car anymore. He was driving." He replied, his voice hitching a notch.

"Don't panic, we've got the EMT's and the fire department on their way. Can you get out of the car sir?"

"No." He said feeling groggy and lightheaded. He was losing blood, it streamed from the shallow cut on his forehead and he could feel it soaking into his t-shirt and jacket from the injury to his left shoulder. "My left shoulder is pinned, I, I can't move it."

"Okay sir, just hang in there. Someone will be there any moment."

The wail of sirens was barely heard over the throbbing in his head, and plumes of smoke wafted from the hood of the car as it creaked and groaned. But luckily it showed no signs of catching fire. Relieved, yet unable to withstand the pain any longer, Donovan let the phone slip away and faded into the blackness creeping around him. It was peaceful. It felt nice.

Donovan didn't know how long he had been out, but when he ebbed over the edge of awareness and the pain it brought with it, he could hear people and the sound of metal ripping as the jaws of life pulled apart his cousin's precious car.

"Hang in there son!" A large man shouted over the noise. "You're almost out!" Through the haze, Donovan could see that he had a kind face. A lived in kind of look, but friendly, and he was holding a pad of gauze to Donovan's forehead to staunch the blood.

As the roof was removed, and the bar of the T-top carefully pulled away from his shoulder, the fireman stabilized his neck and gently slid him from the car and onto a stretcher.

"Steve? Where's... Steve?" Donovan asked fighting off a wave of nausea. The pain was almost unbearable now.

"He's fine son. He's fine." The large man assured him as he secured a neck brace around Donovan and helped a paramedic wrap his shoulder.

With that small peace of mind, Donovan let the blackness succumb him once again, slipping under as they loaded him into the back of a waiting ambulance and sped off in the direction of the nearest hospital.

### Chapter 2

Nurse Johnson

When he finally came to again, the pain was gone. The morphine pumping through his veins had seen to that. The neck brace had been removed, and while an IV was in place, Donovan noticed he was still dressed in his own clothing, just his jacket had been removed so far.

He scooted up in the bed and looked himself over, feeling his forehead, which had been wrapped up, and down his chest and legs. All in all, he was in pretty good shape.

Once he tried to move his left arm, however, he felt a slight wince of pain despite the hardcore painkillers he had been given. His left shirt sleeve was saturated in blood, and the top of it was caked and matted to his shoulder. Making movement nearly impossible.

Attempting to peel the shirt from his skin, Donovan was distracted as the curtain to his bed was yanked open and a beautiful nurse strode in.

She walked with a purpose, and barely gave Donovan enough time to really look her over as she dumped some bandages and suture equipment on the table next to him before pulling up a stool and grabbing a pair of scissors.

"You're awake." She said matter of factly and lifted his arm, causing him to wince again.

"Ouch!" he cried out, turning and pushing the nurse's hands away from his bloodied shoulder. "Watch it woman! I need that arm! Damn it, don't you know who the hell I am?"

Lacy's brows rose in disbelief, "frankly, I don't give a damn you who are, you're acting like a child and you're preventing me from doing my job. That sleeve needs to be removed. Or would you rather I stitch it to you?" She snapped.

Despite his objections, Lacy grabbed for his arm again, albeit a little more gently this time, and began cutting away the blood soaked fabric of his shirt.

"This might hurt a little bit." She said, none too friendly, and continued to cut at the material, pulling it little by little away from the gash on the top of his shoulder.

Once his sleeve was completely removed, Lacy placed a wad of gauze over the injury and began unbuttoning Donovan's shirt. While her fingers moved deftly down his chest, Donovan gulped as he watched her.

She may not have had much of a bedside manner, but the woman was certainly far from repulsive. Of course, the fact that such thoughts were even running through his mind in his present condition didn't even occur to him. He just figured it was the effects of the morphine.

Lacy was tall for a woman, probably around 5'10 if he had to guess, all legs. He could only imagine what they looked like bare. Even in her scrubs, he could tell she was toned and slender. Her hair was cut in a short bob at the nape of her neck but longer towards her face, and it was multicolored, something that normally wouldn't appeal to Donovan, but on her, it worked.

It was black underneath at her neck, and then blonde with various streaks of red throughout. She wore thick dark rimmed glasses, but they did nothing to hide her emerald green eyes. They were deep pools of sparkling jade, framed by lush black lashes.

While Donovan continued to take his fill of her features, those eyes were presently fixed on the open gash at the top of his shoulder as she carefully used a sponge to mop up the blood that continued to dribble out.

Her face was all angles, and it worked well, her chin, though, he realized was a bit stubborn, but almost cute really. She also had a smattering of freckles dusted across the top of her nose and cheeks.

Separately, her features may not have worked, but together, she was stunning. Probably more beautiful than she had any right to be. Too bad her attitude didn't match her looks.

Sitting as still as possible, Donovan groaned while she continued to clean the wound and prepare it for stitches.

"After I stitch you up, we're going to need a couple of x-rays, and an MRI," Lacy informed him as she readied her future supplies.

Finally snapping out of his trance, Donovan blinked a couple of times and looked at her quizzically, "when do I see the doctor?" he asked. "And what can you tell me about my cousin, Steve? We were brought in together."

Lacy half snorted, "he's already been here, you were passed out. As for your cousin, I don't know, I'm not assigned to him."

Leaning forward slightly Donovan got a good look at her name tag, and caught a whiff of her perfume, sending his hormones back into overdrive. Damn this woman. He needed to get a grip on himself, and fast.

"Thank you so much... nurse... Johnson. You've been ever so helpful." He scoffed, after grounding out the words, finally able to rein in his lust.

"Don't mention it," Lacy sneered as she jabbed a needle into him to numb the area.

"Shit!" Donovan cursed, "Do you have to be so damn rough?"

"Did that hurt? I'm sorry, I'll be more gentle next time," she crooned sarcastically.

Biting his tongue, Donovan sat back against the bed and kept his derogatory remarks to himself, though he could have sworn he had heard her call him a baby when she turned her back to pick up the needle.

As promised, Lacy was indeed more gentle as she stitched up the wound and put his arm in a sling, but it wasn't much. Yeah, her bedside manner definitely needed work.

Gathering up her things as she turned to leave him, Lacy said over her shoulder, "someone will be in in a minute to take you down to x-ray."

"And the doctor?" he asked before she could close the curtain.

"You'll see him after he looks over the results." She said with forced pleasantry and a snarl on those luscious lips.

Angry, if not a bit amused, Donovan watched her bottom twitch beneath the pants of her scrubs just before the curtain closed behind her.

Lacy made her way to the nurse's station, plopping down in her chair behind the counter and sighing as she filled out her chart before setting it aside and logging onto her computer to input the latest data.

A petite little blonde nurse named Michelle, whom everyone called Shelly, strolled up next to her and grabbed Lacy's stack of charts, sitting down in her own chair to look them over. Shelly was only two years older than Lacy but had been at the hospital for three. She'd graduated from high school a year early, and thus got her nursing certification earlier as well. She was the chief nurse and Lacy's best friend.

"Ooh, Donovan Pierce! What's he in for?" Shelly asked as she caught his name at the top of the chart.

"Hmm?" Lacy responded, looking up from her computer. "Who?"

"Donovan... I mean, room three."

"Oh, him," Lacy said with vehemence. "Car accident, probably ligament damage."

"Ouch, that'll keep him out for a few games. Poor thing." Shelly clucked putting aside his chart to look over the next one.

"Yeah, poor thing. Sure." Lacy grumbled.

"Give you a hard time did he?"

"Pfft. He was an outright child." She said, turning back to her computer. "You know who he is? Is he special or something?" Lacy remarked trying to sound disinterested.

"Honey, Donovan Pierce? special doesn't even begin to describe Donovan Pierce"

"Okay, and that name is supposed to mean something to me because?"

"You don't watch sports much do you?" Shelly asked in disbelief.

Pulling her glasses down over her nose slightly, Lacy frowned, "do I look like the kind of girl that watches sports?"

Shelly pursed her lips, considering her friend in earnest. "No, I guess not," she said shaking her head. "Donovan Pierce is the alternate captain for the local NHL team.. the Slashers."

Lacy rolled her eyes, "so that's why he asked me if I knew who he was. He was such a baby."

Laughing, Shelly put the stack of charts aside and stood. "I'm going to go get some coffee, can I get you any?"

"No, thanks, though."

As she watched Shelly leave, Lacy thought back on her brief conversation with who she now knew to be one of the most famous people she'd ever met, and cringed a little on the inside. She'd been rather rude to him. Shaking her head, she brushed aside the foolish notion and tried to concentrate on her work.

Tried being the operative word.

Now that she allowed herself to actually think of Donovan, she realized he'd had more of an effect on her than any man had in a long time. He was a patient, though, a mean rotten patient at that! But maybe he was a pretty good looking guy underneath all that blood. Perhaps that was why she'd been so defensive, though she hadn't been aware of that until now.

His hair was matted in red, but she could tell it was unruly and a shade of natural dark blonde, and his eyes, gosh his eyes were beautiful! Wasted on a man like that. They were a shade of blue so light they hinged on green, and he had thick coppery lashes and eyebrows. His face was rugged, his chin square, but his lips full. And when she'd taken off his shirt.. hell, she should've guessed he was an athlete as toned as he was!

As Shelly walked back behind the desk and took her seat, Lacy pushed the last of the erotic thoughts from her mind and focused again on the task at hand. She didn't have time for men like Donovan Pierce.

After an awkward and frankly quite painful experience in the radiation department, Donovan was admitted and put into a private room where he called his agent and of course, his mother. Being that it was pretty late, or pretty early depending on how you looked at things, he ended up leaving a message for both with the callback number for his room. His cell phone, which a medic had so graciously brought up to him earlier, was dead.

Flipping through channels on the small TV in his room, Donovan settled on a King of Queens rerun and stretched out as best he could. He still had no idea what the damage to his left shoulder was, and the new nurse that had been assigned to him couldn't tell him anything about his cousin as of yet. HIPPA laws and all that garbage, she just told him he was okay. Whatever that meant.

Just as Donovan decided to close his eyes for a little while, the door to his room opened a crack and a blonde head peeked around the corner.

"Amie?" Donovan said, rubbing his eyes as he didn't quite trust his own vision.

"Oh good, I've got the right room." She answered pleasantly, walking in and shutting the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well hello to you too," She mocked sweetly, taking a seat next to his bed.

"Yeah, sorry, been a long night. Hi."

"Hi." Amie smiled, placing a hand over his and rubbing gently.

"So what are you doing here? I mean, how did you know where I was?"

Amie shook her curly blonde head, "I guess you forgot to change your 'in case emergency contact,' I got a call a few hours ago. I was actually in Jacksonville for a shoot, so I came as quick as I could. How are you feeling?"

Just like Amie he thought.

Though a swimsuit model, she cared a lot about other people, and she was certainly no air head. Beautiful, yes. Stupid, no. Amie was a natural blonde, and despite the high-pressure demands of her career, she had it put into her contract that while she would wear wigs, she would in no way alter the color or texture of her hair.

Natural was her thing, and she didn't budge when it came to her body. Amie was naturally slender as well, had a metabolism that every woman would kill for, but she still ate pretty clean. She had high cheekbones and big blue eyes to match, though one was half green. It only added to her allure.

But it was her personality that Donovan had fallen for. She wasn't like most models, she cared about everyone she met, and genuinely at that. He had admitted to himself long ago that he had fallen in love with her, he was just sorry it couldn't have worked out. But Amie was on the same page, her life, her career, was important to her.

Maybe one day, in another ten years or so when they were both up for retirement in their current careers, if they hadn't met someone else more attuned to their lifestyles, they might consider trying to make a real go of it, but now, the timing was just off.

Of course, neither one of them regretted their decision. And despite the trashy tabloids and their wild accusations, here she was, at his bedside. What a woman!

"I haven't seen the doctor yet, but the MRI tech said it looks like the T-top of Steve's car might have nicked a ligament. No concussion, though, thank goodness." He said touching the bandage on his forehead.

Amie sighed and ran a finger down the side of his cheek. "I was so worried when I got that phone call, I'm glad you're okay. What about Steve? Have you heard anything about him?"

"No. Actually, Amie, could you do me a favor and go see what you can find out? I'm really worried about him, he got ejected from the car, and all anyone will tell me is that he's 'okay'"

Nodding, Amie stood and fluffed his pillow, "sure, I'll see if I can find out what room he's in and take a peek at him. I'll be right back."

Donovan watched her walk out of his room and returned the brief wave she gave him before closing the door, just as the phone began to ring.

"Hello?" Donovan said into the receiver, wincing as the movement jarred his injured shoulder.

"Donny? It's Jack, what the hell happened?" His agent grumbled, obviously still trying to wake up.

Donovan explained about the accident, and told him what the MRI technician had said, and listened as his agent assured him he'd handle Jean and the press this was likely to garner, as well as contact the team's doctors and physical therapists so they could look over whatever x-rays and charts the hospital had.

He knew Jack would make things as easy as possible for him and was glad to have such an incredible agent on his side. Ten percent was a small price to pay for the kind of services Jack provided once called upon.

Lacy watched the comings and goings from the nurse's station where she had stopped on her way out at the end of her shift to make plans with one of the nurses on this floor. As her friend Tina excused herself for a minute to tend to a patient, Lacy took a seat to wait for her to return and noticed a tall, beautiful blonde woman gently close the door to the room closest to her.

She looked vaguely familiar and it took her a minute, but Lacy was finally able to place her. She was one of those Victoria's Secret models. No. That wasn't right, but she was a model. Swimsuits! That's it!

What the hell was a swimsuit model doing here?

And that's exactly what Lacy said to Tina as soon as she returned to her desk.

"Oh um... Amie? Yeah, I think her name is Amie Donahue. She's here visiting that Hockey player. Oh, what was his name?"

"Donovan Pierce?"

"Yeah! That's the one. Ms. Donahue, I think they're dating, or maybe they were dating? I don't know. I don't keep up with the tabloids all that much lately."

"Tabloids?" Lacy asked confused. "What's a hockey player doing in the tabloids?"

Tina dug through a pile of magazines on the floor at her feet and came up with a copy of Star magazine dated a couple of weeks ago.

"Star magazine? Really Tina? You read this garbage?"

Tina shrugged her broad shoulders and tapped the cover with one plump finger. "Maybe it's not very credible, but it gets me through my overnights."

Standing to take the magazine from her, Lacy looked it over.

In the corner of the cover was a shot of the model in question, with a smaller picture of Donovan and the caption 'Engagement over! Star hockey player cheats on SI model with multiple women!' Lacy scoffed under her breath but curled the magazine up and shoved it in her pocket to read later nonetheless.

Leaning a hip against the desk, Lacy watched as the model appeared once more, waving to them as she came from one room and walked passed the desk and back into Donovan's room. Nodding courteously, Lacy knew one thing for sure, she was beautiful. But if Donovan had cheated on her, what the hell was she doing here? Consoling him? Whatever.

Some women are akin for punishment, she thought shaking her head as she straightened away from Tina's station.

"Alright, Coffee Deli, or Coffee Fox?" Lacy asked pulling the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.

"The fox of course." She chirped cheerfully as she checked her watch. "I have to finish these charts and then I'll be out of here. Meet you there?"

Lacy nodded, gave one final glance in the direction of Donovan's room, and left.

"Okay," Amie began, taking a seat by the bed again and flipping her hair over one shoulder. "I just came from Steve's room, and while he's pretty beat up, he is, in fact, 'okay.'"

Donovan let out a visible sigh of relief, "how bad is he?" He asked.

"A couple of broken ribs, a fractured femur, and various scrapes and bruises. He's more upset about his car though if you ask me."

Laughing, Donovan made himself more comfortable and placed a hand over Amie's. "Thanks Amie, for everything."

Amie smiled, "I know you'd do the same for me. Now, I hate to do this, but I have to catch a flight to Belize. I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"No, Jack's handling everything, and I talked to Dean a little while ago, he and Coach will be here soon. Have a safe flight, Amie."

"You take care of yourself, and let me know what the doctors say, okay?"

"You got it," Donovan replied as she kissed him lightly on the cheek and left the room.

So Steve was going to be okay. Good. He needed him to be okay if he was going to read him the riot act later. What an idiot! Of course, if he hadn't gotten in the car with him in the first place... No, he couldn't think like that. They were both going to be just fine, and really, if he hadn't been in the car who knows what could've happened. Steve might still have had an accident, and maybe he would've died in the process.

But he probably should have at least made sure Steve had been wearing his seat belt. Well, looked like they were going to be invalids together for a little while. Thankfully Donovan didn't have any broken bones himself! Shit, Coach was going to kill him for this!

Before he could delve any further into his negative thoughts, though, the door to his room opened again and the doctor walked in, the bearer of bad news he was sure. A short man with a balding head and thin-rimmed glasses, he kind of reminded Donovan of Santa Claus, perhaps if Santa had been a fit man that is. But at least the man knew how to do his job, and was polite about it.

"I hear you had some trouble with Lacy? Is that right? She's usually one of the friendlier nurses on staff... must've had a bad night."

Donovan grunted, "Lacy? Is that her name? Pretty name for such mean woman."

The Doctor, Jonas as he called himself, laughed heartily. "I'll have a word with her next time we're on shift together. In the meantime, your agent's been pretty busy, really on top of things." He said tapping his clipboard. "We'll be letting you out of here soon, but I wanted to go ahead and give you my professional opinion. I'm sure your staff of guys will want to run their own tests, but I doubt it will deviate much."

"Okay, let's have it, how bad is it Doc?" Donovan winced, he was trying his damnedest to be upbeat while preparing for the worst.

"There's a slight tear in your coracoacromial ligament. In your profession, I'd say you're probably looking at around four to six weeks of physical therapy and rehab."

"Shit."

"I'm sorry son, I know that's not what you want to hear, hell, I'm a big Slasher's fan myself, so it's not what I want to hear either, but thank God that metal rod didn't go any further," Doctor Jonas said, clearly trying to placate him.

"Yeah, lucky me," Donovan grumbled.

"You had a broken clavicle the season after your rookie year, right?" Doctor Jonas continued, not waiting for an answer. "I'm sure you'll heal just as fast this time. You weren't even out the full twelve weeks for that one, were you?"

Donovan shook his head. The doctor was right, he was a fast healer, and since it was an upper body injury, at least he could still skate. So there was that. Coach was still going to ring him a new one for getting into the car with a drunk driver, but at least the injury wasn't season ending. Might even give them a little wiggle room under the cap to rent a couple of guys they needed for some of the holes they currently had in the lineup.

The doctor left him then to take care of his discharge papers, and no sooner than Donovan had gotten comfortable again did the door to his room open a third time, filling with three of his teammates and of course, Coach Turski.

Dean patted him on his good shoulder and told him he was glad he was alright. Well, as alright as he could be under the circumstances. France, bless him, brought Donovan a cup of coffee, the good stuff, not the crap the cafeteria had tried to serve him. And Andre, a young player he'd been mentoring lately, handed him a bag with a breakfast sandwich from his favorite fast food joint. Yeah, these guys understood him alright.

It was good to know his teammates had his back on and off the ice.

"I spoke to Jack." Coach Truski began, all business. "I'm not going to berate you and tell you how much of an idiot I think you are."

"Thanks, Coach."

Turski shook his head, "don't thank me just yet. You really screwed us Donny."

"Oh come on Coach, it wasn't his fault," Dean said butting in to stand up for his friend.

Turski waved him off, though. "Would you have gotten in that car Dean? No, I didn't think so." He said when Dean only stared at him blankly. "We've got enough talent in the pipeline to get us through tonight, and I'm sure our GM, Mr. Stanfield will find a way for your absence to benefit us under the cap, but I expect you to work hard, and get your ass back on the ice well before the playoffs get here. Is that understood?"

Donovan looked at him dolefully, he felt like a child, shrinking under the gaze of his father's angry stare. "Yes, sir." He replied.

"Good. We need to get to the arena, and get ready for tonight's game, rest up Pierce, because as soon as the medical staff gets a hold of you, you're going to wish you had never gotten into that car last night. You're in for a rude awakening. Injuries on the ice I can understand, but why you put yourself in this position is beyond me. I thought you were smarter than that."

"Yes, sir," Donovan said again, as he watched Turski and his teammates file out of the room.

The guys gave him sad looks and wished him well, Coach just frowned at him as he shut the door. It wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought it would be, the confrontation and all, but shit, he hated it when he disappointed Coach. He meant it when he agreed to work his ass off, he would, he'd get back out on that ice, and hell, they'd still make it to the finals this year.

There went his career high season, but he'd be damned if his injury would lose his team the Stanley Cup. They'd worked too hard to get this far and not win after last season's loss to the Chicago Blackhawks. So he'd get better as fast as he could, and he'd take up right where he left off.

### Chapter 3

Introspection

After closing the door to her apartment behind her, Lacy slipped out of her shoes, massaging her sore feet, then walked over to the fish tank sitting on a stand in her quaint little living room and dropped a few flakes of food in. The two large goldfish made a beeline for the food, sucking it into their giant mouths as if they hadn't eaten in days. Lacy laughed as she watched them and tossed another pinch in.

"Hungry eh?" she asked her greedy pets.

Rubbing her eyes, she went to the bedroom and changed out of her scrubs. Opting for a pair of purple yoga pants and a white tank top. After using the toilet and splashing a bit of cold water on her face, she grabbed her tennis shoes out of the closet and headed for the door.

Lacy rotated monthly between the night shift and the day shift, thankfully, February was half over, she hated working nights. It was much easier to get up early and catch a yoga class before work than it was to put in a twelve-hour shift and then get a workout in. By the time she got home from work to change she was dog tired, and her bed, the one big splurge she'd made since moving into her apartment, beckoned her like an old lover.

It was a top of the line Tempurpedic mattress with the softest sheets and downy comforter money could buy. And right now, God, she wanted nothing more than to tumble into that bed and sleep until she had to go back to work the next day.

But no, her body demanded attention. It wasn't easy to look as good as she did, it took time, and effort, but in the end, it was more than worth it. With her job, pretty much being on her feet the whole time, and then a couple of yoga sessions a week, filling in her off days with a spinning class or two, she was able to eat just about anything she wanted. Having a good metabolism didn't hurt, but she wasn't about to slack on the exercise. Lacy loved bread and pasta as well as sweets, and giving those things up, just didn't jibe.

Tina, her friend, and fellow nurse, was trying to get in shape herself, she was tired of being round, hoping to get a little more streamlined before bathing suit season, so they usually met up at one coffee shop or another, grabbed a quick caffeine fix, and hit their local gym together.

It was a nice gym too. Just on the outskirts of town, it had a mommy and me class, a rock wall, a weight room, one for pretty much every machine you could ever need to get in a good cardio workout, spinning, yoga, an Olympic-sized pool, and a top notch physical therapy program. They also boasted some of the best personal trainers in the state.

Lacy had even heard once that a lot of athletes had memberships there, but since she never once considered following sports, she let that little tidbit go in one ear and out the other.

With one last longing look at her bed, piled high with pillows, she sighed and headed into the kitchen to get a protein bar out of the pantry. Choking it down with a glass of milk, she threw the wrapper in the trash and locked the door behind her as she left.

Lacy climbed behind the wheel of her late model Acura, another splurge, though this one a little more reasonable as she had gotten a pretty good deal on it, and starting the engine she pulled out of her assigned parking space and onto the street that would lead her into the downtown area of Savannah.

Lacy lived in a little subdivision called Oakhurst, right off of Edgewater Rd, it was close to work, and really, only about ten miles or so outside of Savannah itself. The condo wasn't very big, a small two bedroom, but since it was just herself and a couple of goldfish, it suited her needs, and the rent was more than reasonable. Her landlord had recently given her the option to outright buy the condo, but Lacy needed time to think it over. She liked the place, but when she really thought about it, she wasn't sure she wanted to own it.

Looking at the market, she knew it was worth less than a hundred grand, and it was definitely in need of some updating. The kitchen had some pretty ugly yellow wallpaper with roosters on it, and the tile was mismatched in places where pieces had been replaced. The appliances, though they worked were ancient, and the countertops, made to look like granite, were actually a really terrible Formica job.

There was only one bathroom, with no room for a second, and the bedrooms, both small, were the same size, so there wasn't really a dedicated 'master.' Maybe that wasn't such a problem, she didn't have a whole lot of furniture anyways, but if she wanted to furnish the place properly, well, there just wasn't enough space.

But since she'd only made those two major purchases, the bed, and the car, the rest of her furniture was all second hand and hidden by slipcovers, she could certainly afford to do the updates, it was just the space and the layout she couldn't really change. Unless she wanted to convert it into a one bedroom, but then she'd lose out on the office/guest space. Right now, the second bedroom had a small desk, if it could be called that, more of a nightstand really, and a futon. But it worked. She never really had anyone stay the night anyways.

After a heavy night of drinking a girlfriend or two might have passed out there once or twice, but she never brought guys back to her place. As dangerous and stupid as it sounded, she always went to their house, or a hotel. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her place, not really, she just didn't feel comfortable bringing a guy home. What if he wanted to stay the night? Lacy wasn't the 'stay the night' kind of girl.

She went back to their place, did the deed, and left once they passed out. If she really liked the guy, which let's face it, was almost never if she was honest, she'd scribble a note for them to call her on a piece of paper and hang it on their refrigerator. But she could only remember doing that like, maybe twice.

As far as serious relationships went, well, Lacy just didn't have them. She remembered this guy in high school, his name was Derek, God she was crazy about him! He played soccer of all things, but he also played in the band. He played guitar really well, and they had so much in common. Liked the same music, movies, food, pretty much everything. But Derek also had a penchant for the ladies.

Of course, Lacy didn't know that until it was too late. The same age, they had met and started their courtship their sophomore year of high school, but the shit didn't hit the fan so to speak until their senior year.

Lacy was kind of a nerd at heart, though she dressed a little on the preppy side, throwing in some of the old school fashion from time to time as well, but Derek wore those popular emo glasses and dark clothes, he just wasn't into Star Wars or Star Trek like Lacy was, and he had certainly never picked up a book. He just liked the way the dark colors brought out his pale blue eyes. On the inside, he was jock. A jock that just so happened to know how to play a mean guitar solo.

So it was no surprise to Lacy when he was voted to be the homecoming king. And even though the entire student body had known the two had been dating for the past two years, no one thought twice about even nominating her. Which in reality didn't bother Lacy, not really, but it did bother her, when Lacy saw Sophie Everheart, the most popular girl in school, Derek's homecoming queen, leaving Derek's house one day.

She and Derek lived only a block away from each other, and even in her teenage years, Lacy was a health enthusiast, jogging regularly. It was during an early evening running session that she'd seen it. And maybe it seemed like no big deal at first, Lacy knew Derek was having trouble in calculus, which actually happened to be the head cheerleader's strong suit.. who knew?

But that wasn't why she was there. Of course, that's the first excuse he tried to use, but Lacy knew better. Derek's father was a professor at the local university, a MATH professor, and his mom was a software engineer, between the two of them, there was no way he'd need a tutor.

Not to mention, it was Saturday, and Lacy had just asked him that morning what his plans were. What was it he had told her? "Oh nothing much, Dad and I are planning the spend the afternoon out on the boat," he had said. It was something they did often when the weather was nice, Lacy even joined them occasionally. But there was the boat, in the driveway, completely dry, and the sky, oh it was blue, not a cloud in sight all day!

So Lacy slowed and ducked around the side of a huge elm tree, peering around its large expanse at the two of them. Sophie patted her hair and adjusted the hem of her skirt, while Derek placed a hand on the small of her back and drew her closer to him.

Watching as he bent forward to kiss her, Lacy's mouth fell open in shock and she had to rub her eyes to make sure they weren't deceiving her. That little tramp was kissing her boyfriend! It took all of her willpower not to storm over there and grab the twit by her fake bottle blonde hair! Lacy was pissed! God, men were pigs! And boy was she sorry she'd lost her virginity to this one!

Lacy waited until she was at school on Monday and then marched right up to that bitch Sophie Everheart and confronted her. And did Sophie even try to deny it? No! Of course not!

"What? You thought you were the only girl climbing beneath Derek's sheets? Ha! There's more than just you and me Lacy, the boy's a player!"

"But why?" Lacy had asked.

Sophie shrugged and continued to primp her hair in the bathroom mirror. "Why not?" she stated more than asked.

Shocked, Lacy just stood there and stared at Sophie's reflection for a minute, "but, you knew I was dating him!" She argued once the initial shock wore off.

"Look, it's nothing personal Lacy, hell, I like you, shocking, I know. It's just that, well, Derek is a fox, and like I said, I'm not the only one that feels that way."

"Who else?" She had dared to ask.

Sophie turned to face her and began ticking off names in her head, counting with her fingers, "hell, half the cheerleading team, to include junior varsity, probably all of the girl's soccer team, I don't know, a lot?"

Lacy was going to be sick. First her father, now Derek? Couldn't men keep it in their pants? At least Derek hadn't gotten another woman pregnant.. had he? Lacy walked into a stall and sat down on the toilet seat once Sophie had left. She didn't cry, though, wouldn't. Not over a bastard like Derek! But her eyes burned as she held back the pain and the moisture that threatened to spill over her reddened rims.

She managed to pull herself together for the rest of the day and decided to wait until after school to confront Derek at his home. Of course, after the tutoring excuse, he tried another tact. Blaming it all on Sophie, he told Lacy she threw herself at him, and what was he supposed to do? God, she'd been an idiot, all this time, all those girls!

After arguing for another hour or so he finally broke down and told her the truth.

It was sickening!

As Sophie had said, there were multiple girls, he'd even lost count how many over the years, but he swore he loved Lacy, he was sick, and he needed help, but God he didn't want to lose her! He'd change, he promised! But Lacy's eyes were open now, and she wasn't going to let him blind her again! No way! She slapped him across the face, called him a pig, and walked out the door. Tears streaming down her face.

For all his talk, he never tried to approach her at school, and not once did he call her or show up at her house begging for forgiveness. And that was just fine with Lacy. She should've known better anyways. Her own father was the same way, although he had married 'the other woman' as soon as the ink was dry on the divorce papers to her mother, at least she could give him that much credit.

And how long ago had that been? Four, no, five years ago? Fourteen and without a father, maybe if he had been around, been a better role model, she would've avoided a guy like Derek. But what did they say about relationships? that girls usually ended up with men like their fathers? God, she hoped not. The signs had all been there though hadn't they? In both cases, her father's and Derek's, there were so many things that weren't right, that were just... wrong. Why hadn't she noticed?

Or better yet, why hadn't she done something about it? Oh well, lesson learned. She vowed then and there not to ever let a man get that close to her again.

And she hadn't.

Pulling into one of the public parking garages that was near both the coffee shop and the gym, Lacy let the memories of her past, and the horrible men she had thought she had loved, drift away. Lacy was more than happy with the way things were going in her life nowadays. She had a great job, her own place, and there was no pain in the ass man to harp on her, or try to control her!

She had sex when she wanted it, which was often enough, although not usually more than once every couple of weeks; meeting men on tinder, or at night clubs, a bar, the usual, and after a brief lunch date to check them out when she was completely sober, she made plans for dinner or a movie and went back to their place to hook up. Or to a hotel if they gasp! lived with their parents! That had happened more often than she'd liked to admit.

Of course, Lacy wasn't looking for a husband, or even a boyfriend, so it didn't matter if he had a good job, or his own place. All that mattered was that he was good looking, had a decent personality and wasn't a serial killer. It wasn't like she ever hooked up with the same person more than a couple of times anyways. And she never hooked up with guys she met at work, patients and co-workers alike. Business and pleasure did NOT mix in Lacy's world.

She'd tried the whole fuck buddy thing once too, but it didn't pan out the way she had hoped it would. Eventually, he wanted to see her for real, take her on dates, buy her nice things, introduce her to his friends and family! What a mess that had turned out to be! No, Lacy kept things simple. Check him out, hook up, and say goodbye. If the sex was really good she might hang onto his number for a little while and call him in a couple of months for another go around, but she always made sure to put plenty of space between hook ups.

And she was safe, she was always safe. Lacy got tested once a month, always asked the guy for his own test results first, she never did random hook ups, it was like a law for her, and of course, she was on the pill, as well as used condoms. It was kind of weird at first, and really, some guys still balked about it, but when she went out on the lunch 'date' she was upfront and honest with the guy. It was always "I'm just looking to hook up, what do you think? Are you interested?" Her friends couldn't believe how forward she was with men, and yet, it worked!

Lacy had guys lining up to jump her bones, which gave her the opportunity to be as picky as she wanted to be. Lacy had standards. At least as far as looks went. She liked a guy that took care of his body, wore nice clothes, had nice hair, maybe even pretty eyes. A guy like Donovan Pierce. Wait, what the fuck? Where had that come from? Lacy shook her head, trying to get the wayward hockey player out of her mind.

Lacy hadn't had a chance to read the magazine Tina had given her yet, it actually sat in the back seat of her car with the half eaten candy bar she'd gotten from the vending machine on her way out of the hospital this morning. But it didn't matter, babe or not, the man was trouble, that much she knew. She'd read the sordid details later when she was snug in bed for the night.

As she walked into the coffee shop and spotted Tina at a table already waiting for her, still in her scrubs with a gym bag at her feet, Lacy pushed Donovan and his delicious body out of her mind.

"Hey!" Tina said, "I got you that mocha whatever it is you always order." She went on, using her hand to indicate the cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of the chair across from her.

"Thanks," Lacy replied, taking her seat and blowing on the coffee through the little hole at the top of the cup. "God I needed this." She sighed after taking a sip and nearly scalding her tongue. But it was good, so good.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, as the two women enjoyed their hot caffeinated beverages, they pushed back from the table together and made their way to the gym. Tina went to the locker room to change before hitting the treadmills and ellipticals while Lacy went to her favorite yoga class, led by a super-hot guy that was, unfortunately for her and the rest of the female population, gay. He was still nice to look at, though, and thus very popular with the ladies, his classes were always full.

Hitting the showers together later, Tina gushed about the five pounds she had lost in the last week and went on to tell Lacy how her husband just couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. Lacy was happy for her, really she was, but after seeing her mother's marriage fall apart she didn't take much stock in the outdated ritual. Tina and her husband Bert, a cop, who had been married for a little over six years now, were high school sweethearts, married straight after graduation and that was great, for them.

Luckily, Tina had taken the hint the first time around after trying to set Lacy up with one of Bert's friends and hadn't pushed her a second time about settling down. It wasn't for everyone, and she, unlike most of Lacy's friends understood that. It was one of her biggest selling points as a friend, she didn't judge. In fact, she was often fascinated by Lacy's sordid affairs and hook ups. She told Lacy it was like being a voyeur without having to actually watch porn!

Lacy was very detailed in her descriptions of the men she 'dated' when talking to Tina, though she did censor the sex itself, no reason to get graphic. It wasn't that Tina was a prude or anything, but she had a pretty good imagination and had no problem filling in the blanks on her own once Lacy set the stage so to speak.

So while Shelly, her single and ready to mingle friend was the one she took with her to all the clubs, if she needed, or wanted to talk, Tina was her go-to gal, as well as being her perpetual gym buddy.

Shelly was great, they had a lot of fun together, but she was kind of dense, and well, she didn't work out. Ever. The girl lived on air! Shelly was one of those gluten free, dairy free, everything free kind of people, Lacy was surprised she even drank coffee! Wasn't that stuff bad for you too? Whatever, it didn't matter, since moving to the Savannah area after graduating from high school, Lacy had left behind all of her friends in Jacksonville, so she was glad to have two of the most loving and loyal girlfriend's anyone could ask for.

She'd met Tina in college, and Shelly her first day at the hospital, and though Tina and Shelly didn't ever really go out together on their own, when the three of them were making a night of it, look out Savannah! Hell, look out Georgia! They were trouble with a capital T!

After pulling on a pair of jeans she kept handy in her locker, and a yellow sweater that was frankly, a little too big for her small frame, Lacy clipped her hair away from her face and applied her make up. She wasn't a vain woman, but when she wasn't at work, she liked to add a little blush to her pale cheeks, and play up the color of her eyes with a little shadow and mascara. Not enough to make her look like a Kewpie doll or a clown, but just subtle enough to enhance her already unique features.

Pulling her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, Tina turned to face her and let out a low whistle. "Look at you!" She smirked. "Got a hot date this afternoon or what?"

Lacy smiled as she added some gloss to her lips, "yeah, with my mother." She teased.

"Oh, well then."

"If I had a date, Tina, I wouldn't be wearing this hideous thing," Lacy remarked, tugging at the sagging yellow sweater.

Tina looked at her thoughtfully, "yeah, I guess not." She joked, crinkling her nose.

"You working tomorrow night?" Lacy asked, changing the subject as she pulled the pins from her hair and brushed it neatly back into place.

Tina shook her head, "nuh uh, I have the rest of the week off."

"Oh?"

"Taking a little vacation to Barbados," She said with a wink. "We never got to go on our honeymoon, and since we have a little extra money lying around, we figured now was as good a time as any."

"That's awesome Tina!" Lacy exclaimed. She'd never really had a vacation like that herself, though she'd almost pulled the trigger on a cruise once, so she was genuinely happy for her friend, if not a little jealous. "I hope you guys have a blast!"

"Me too."

The two friends exited the gym together and walked toward the parking garage talking and giggling about what Tina and her husband might do alone together in paradise, and after a brief hug, they parted ways. Tina off to start packing as she waited for her husband's shift to end, and Lacy headed to meet her mother for lunch at their favorite restaurant, The Olde Pink House, where they dined together at least once a week.

### Chapter 4

Damage Control

After being forced to endure a cafeteria lunch at the hospital, Donovan was finally released and driven home by a car service sent for him, compliments of his agent. Jack had some schmoozing to do in New York with another client, he had several of them, including six members of the Slashers team, so for the next few days at least, they would do all their communicating over the phone.

Flipping the lights on once he closed the door behind himself, Donovan breathed deeply. God, it was great to be home! Even the few hours he had spent at the hospital were too much. Thankfully his injuries weren't as bad as they could have been, shit, Steve wasn't getting out for at least a few more days.

One of his broken ribs had punctured his lung and they wanted to make sure it healed enough before they sent him home. Though, they'd already fitted him with a cast for the fractured femur. Donovan had gone to see him once he was officially discharged and dressed, Dean thoughtfully bringing him clothes when he'd come to see him earlier.

And, despite being super pissed off at his cousin for the entire ordeal, seeing him laid up in bed the way he was, hooked up to all sorts of machines and his leg dangling in the air supported by a sling, he just didn't have the heart to give him the lecture he certainly deserved.

Besides, Steve showed more than enough remorse to convince Donovan that he was sorry for being such a jackass. And hadn't he paid the ultimate price with the loss of his precious sports car? Donovan would heal, and he'd even still get paid, but the car, well, it was beyond totaled, it was in shreds at the local impound lot.

Donovan almost felt sorry for the guy, but he brought this on himself really, he had no one else to blame, so while the pity was definitely there, he tried not to show it. For his sake, and for Steve's sake. The guy had lost his mother, and his car, and damn near lost his own life as well, but he still had his pride. No matter how stupid he had been to get behind the wheel of that car, drunk and driving like he stole it, he certainly didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him because of it.

Donovan had promised to visit as often as he could before heading out, but Steve being Steve told him not to worry about it, he had good drugs, free meals, TV, and a slew of women to cluck like mother hens and see to his every need. What more could a guy want? Donovan shook his head as he remembered that. Steve was something else, hurting inside and out and still trying to make light of things. Whatever got you through the pain he supposed. But Donovan still made a mental note to at least call and check up on him every once in awhile.

Carefully stripping out of his borrowed clothes and into a pair of sweats, opting to go shirtless so he didn't have to bother with the sling on his arm a second time, Donovan took a beer out of the fridge and crashed on the couch in his media room. He flipped on all three TV's, tuning into the last of the afternoon game on one TV, where the Rangers were shutting out the Dallas Stars, putting golf on a second, and turning the third to ESPN. His Slashers weren't set to play until seven that night, and while he intended to watch, he was fucking tired.

His head hurt like a son of a bitch, though a nurse had removed the bandages and only a couple of butterfly stitches remained, and his shoulder throbbed, dully, for the most part, but if he moved too fast, or in the wrong direction a sharp piercing pain shot through him. He'd been given plenty of painkillers, probably enough to knock out an elephant, but he wanted to be clear headed. The morphine had dulled his senses, made him feel like he was swimming through a haze of fog, making it hard to concentrate, and he needed to be able to think.

He had a lot to think about after all. He'd used the car phone and talked to Jack on the ride home from the hospital, who told him he had a meeting first thing in the morning with the department head from their sports medicine group, and afterwards he was to go straight to Louie's Gym on Broughton Street for an appointment with a therapist the team had often worked with.

Normally he'd meet them in his own home, or at the practice rink where they did their workouts in their own private gym, but this guy, Tom something or another, was moonlighting over at Louie's and could fit him in.

No big deal. He'd do whatever he was told to do, go where they wanted him to go. And he'd get his crap together, rest when he could, and get back out on the ice as soon as possible. He didn't want his legs to weaken as well.

Thankfully they weren't injured at all in the accident, all the damage had been sustained to the upper body only, but if he didn't get back to his conditioning soon, his leg muscles might start to get lazy on him and protest.

Couldn't have that. Once his shoulder was well enough that he could start doing full contact practices again, hopefully much sooner than the suggested four to six weeks, he was going to give it all he had.

At this rate, he'd be able to get back in the game about a week or so before the playoffs began, and as the Slashers were currently at the top of the food chain as far as the eastern conference went, they weren't likely to miss out.

They were second only to, of course, the Chicago Blackhawks, who currently sat in the top spot in the league by more than a five-point margin. And while there was a bigger degree of separation between the Slashers and the next eastern team the Tampa Bay Lightning, the western conference was pretty stacked.

On top of the five-point margin that was between the Slashers and the Hawks, there were another two points between the Hawks and the next team in their conference the L.A. Kings, but underneath the Kings, it was pretty tight throughout the conference with no more than two points separating the next ten teams.

And on the eastern side of things, after Tampa, who was presently six points back, the rest of the conference was hot on their heels so to speak, with Boston, and the Rangers tied for third, followed by the Panthers, the Hurricanes and a couple of the Canadian teams all within three points of Tampa.

So really, the Slashers could afford to lose a few games and still finish with home ice advantage throughout the playoffs, not that they wanted to. Donovan had faith in his team, though, and knew Stanfield, their GM would find a nice rental player or two to pick up the slack while he was out on injury reserve. Maybe they wouldn't catch the Blackhawks at this point, but missing out on the Presidents trophy wasn't that much of a big deal. Hell, they'd won the damn thing last year, and look what happened!

Not too many teams could claim to have won both the President's trophy and the Stanley Cup, okay, so maybe the Blackhawks could, but really, they were pretty tapped out on talent. When you have players like Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane both league leaders in various categories, as your top tier players, not to mention a supporting cast that included the likes of Marian Hossa and Duncan Keith just to name a couple, and of course, add three Stanley Cups to their resumes then surely you have the makings of a true dynasty.

What team didn't want to be like the Blackhawks? Their GM Stanfield had admitted on more than one occasion that he was trying to model their team around the Hawks, and why not? They had a recipe for success, and if it could be duplicated it was certainly worth the effort.

All Donovan knew at this point was that his team had a damn good chance of making it back to the cup finals, and once he was given the all clear, he intended to charge full speed ahead and be the player he was before the accident. He'd been having a breakout season, was even on par with Patrick Kane and poised to surpass the current points leader.

Not now of course, but that wasn't going to stop him from playing his best game once he was able to again. And in the meantime, he'd work with the team's doctors and physical therapists on a daily basis if he could, whatever it took to get back out on the ice with his team, he'd damn sure get it done.

The Slashers were rolling four lines now, with Dean and Donovan usually playing together on the top line, though sometimes Donovan was rotated into the second line if the other team played too much shut down, giving him and Dean a better chance to find the back of the net.

Either way, their team was leading the league in both scoring and their points against ratio as France was like a brick wall, with more shutouts than any other goalie. So the sooner he was able to play, the better.

After letting it charge for a little while, Donovan grabbed his cell phone and turned it on. He'd spoken to his mother, father, and pretty much everyone else that was worried about him while still in the hospital, so he wasn't surprised that he didn't have any missed calls or text messages, though his social media accounts were going nuts since the press release about the accident and his injury status had been announced on ESPN.

Fans wishing him well, reporters asking for an interview, and various league figureheads wanting to know the sordid details. Did they need to open an investigation? Was Donovan driving? Had he been drinking himself? Sheesh, it was already turning into a circus!

Thank God for his agent, and Jean, the Slasher organization's lead PR person, Donovan didn't know what he'd do without those two! Jack had already handled the medical side of things, and Jean, bless her heart, had taken care of all the important press obligations, giving a solid 'no comment' on anything else.

He'd talked to Jean in the car as well, and she had more than reassured him that when he was ready, and not before then, she would schedule a press conference and he could let his fans know what was what.

She was even willing to write up his speech for him if he wasn't up to the task himself, which of course right now he wasn't, but since she'd agreed to give him a few days, so he could at least see what the team's doctors thought of his injury and get in a couple physical therapy sessions first, Donovan figured he'd be able to take care of it himself, he'd just need her to proof it of course, he was a guy after all, not very analytical at times.

Tweeting a couple of messages thanking his fans for their support and letting them know he'd give an update as soon as he had all the information he needed, he logged off his social media and with Siri's help, brought up the website for Louie's Gym off of Broughton Street.

He knew a couple of the guys on his team had memberships there, mostly the lesser knowns or guys that had recently been brought up from their AHL affiliate, but still, he'd heard them talking about the place from time to time.

And Tom, though pretty new himself to the staff, Donovan still couldn't remember his last name, had posted a bulletin about the place, letting everyone know he was there from this time to that on these days if anyone needed his services.

Apparently, the place paid pretty well, and Tom, though the Slashers certainly paid him well enough too, was trying to put his kids through college and since one of them had been accepted to Harvard or some such place, he needed the extra cash flow. Thus the moonlighting gig.

Donovan was impressed by their website nonetheless. They offered a lot of classes and the facilities appeared to be top notch. If the Slashers own gym hadn't offered everything he could possibly need for his workouts he probably would have considered joining himself, hell, maybe if he liked the place he still might.

Looking at a clock on the wall by the door, Donovan caught the time, almost 5:00 pm, and pulled up the website for his favorite Chinese joint, placing an order so he didn't have to worry about cooking.

Afterwards, he put his half empty beer on a coaster, -he was a stickler about things like that, his table being an expensive piece that also doubled as a built in Foosball table, he couldn't stand the sight of moisture rings- and flipped the recliner out, stretching his legs and pushing back so he laid flat.

Donovan closed his eyes for a few minutes and just relaxed, letting the sound of silence penetrate his worn and ragged mind. Since he had all three TVs on, he had them muted, at least until his team played, then he'd turn the volume up on that TV but probably leave it off on the other two. He could only concentrate on one at a time anyways.

Wondering who else was playing tonight, and slightly excited by the prospect of being able to just relax and watch TV like a normal person, Donovan smiled to himself and fell asleep. Lord knew he hadn't slept much at the hospital.

The knock on the door about an hour later, the one that signaled his dinner had arrived, almost didn't wake him up. Probably the residual effects of all the morphine they'd given him, he sure was glad he hadn't taken any more painkillers.

Donovan chowed down on his Bourbon Chicken and Krab Rangoon while watching the pregame show on the NHL network, tuning the TV he had to golf on another channel set to play a game between the Florida Panthers and the Boston Bruins, both teams in his division.

At least the Slashers had a fairly easy game tonight against the last-place Coyotes, they'd drafted some pretty talented players over the off-season, but after their star rookie was injured early in the season, they fell behind. The Coyotes probably still needed to pick up some key players before they made another run at things next season.

Time seemed to fly for Lacy, work, yoga, and lunch with her mom, God, was it really almost 6:30 already? Tired as all get out, she rubbed her eyes, stretched and tried to go back to sleep. She didn't have to go back to work until 7:00 pm Tuesday night, but then it was three twelve hour days straight before she got another two off, just in time for the weekend, and Valentine's day. Not that she had any plans, so she was trying to get a little extra sleep in. She'd pretty much crashed right into bed the second she got home from lunch, she was that tired.

Taking off her pants and sweater she had slipped under the covers, falling asleep before her head even hit the pillow. And what beautiful, glorious sleep it was! No dreams had disturbed her, no nightmares, no fantasies, nothing. It was perfect, deep, and wonderful!

She wished she slept that way all the time. Often she awoke in a panic, sweaty or breathing hard. She never had night terrors or anything as a child, but after her parents' marriage imploded, she started having dreams on a frequent basis, about her father.

Her mother had taken her to get counseling after the ordeal, though it was short-lived once she could no longer afford the insurance that paid for that counseling, another thing her father's betrayal had cost them, but the shrink didn't offer much insight into her dreams. Mostly just told her it was her mind's way of trying to figure things out, sort through her emotions. Whatever that meant.

The dreams ranged in their severity and weirdness. Sometimes it was about what her father did, or maybe what he didn't do. Other times he tried to kill her and her mother, which was just plain absurd! Her father had never laid a hand on either her or her mother, he wasn't that kind of monster, just the unfaithful variety.

So why did she dream about her dad wielding a large serrated knife and plunging it into her mother's chest? She'd like to know what her shrink made of that one! Maybe she should consider getting back into counseling? Nah. They were just dreams.

And really, she didn't dream about the killing stuff as much anymore. Just freaky sexual stuff sometimes, like she'd be getting it on with a really hot guy, and then when he walked out the door it was her father. How sick was that? Of course, she knew what a psychiatrist would say about that, and maybe that's why she figured she didn't need to see one. Yeah, she had daddy issues, so what? She wasn't using sex to find a father figure. She liked sex, it felt good, and orgasms were a wonderful thing, that didn't mean she wanted her lover to be her new role model!

And she certainly didn't look for men that reminded her of her father! After that fiasco with Derek in high school, she stayed far, far away from any man that even remotely reminded her of her father in any way. As a rule, she didn't date men that had black hair if they also had blue eyes, and she stayed away from men that had roving jobs, or kids, she didn't do kids, but that had nothing to do with her father, or maybe it did.

Even though she wasn't dating any of these men long term, it didn't hurt to be overly cautious. Right? Love was apparently a powerful thing, and God-forbid she did find a man that did more than just make her toes curl, she didn't want him to have any parallels to her father. She wouldn't allow herself to end up like her mother.

Because that was such a bad thing right? Maybe her mother had been pretty downtrodden at first, and yeah, the divorce was certainly hard on her financially. Child support, thanks to the fact that dear old had other mouths, yeah mouths plural, to feed, was pretty scant, and being a Kindergarten teacher, her mother hadn't made much to begin with, so she took a second job waiting tables.

At least that way they could afford to stay in their tiny little two-bedroom home in Orange Park. But that didn't mean they didn't struggle. As soon as she turned sixteen, Lacy picked up a job at a fast food place so she could afford the things she wanted, and let mom concentrate on the bills, not the frills.

And dear old dad? It was months after the divorce was finalized before he tried to contact Lacy again. Of course, she was so sickened by what he'd done, she didn't want anything to do with that bastard! He even had the nerve to invite her to his wedding! What a creep!

She could remember how good it felt when she burned that invitation too. Watching as the flames licked at the cheap card stock. Mr. Johnson and Ms. Clark invite you to their... blah blah blah... it was more like burn bitch burn!

It took a while, but Lacy was finally able to put her father and his weaknesses behind her. And her mother, after a couple of years, and a few failed relationships, finally found herself a real man. George Ramirez, a retired flight officer in the Navy was just the kind of man her mother needed. Strong, smart, and compassionate.

He was maybe a little strict with his son, who was a few years older than Lacy and already off in the Army when their parents met, Lacy was sixteen at the time, but it was mostly just due to the military upbringing.

George was still in the Navy, assigned to NAS Jacksonville when he and Lacy's mother had met, she'd waited on him at the restaurant where she worked, they'd had an instant connection, and within a year, Lacy and her mother had moved in with him, and her mother was pregnant.

George doted heavily on that baby, a little girl they named Kelsey. He was good to Lacy too, but while Lacy liked him and respected him, she never got too close. Being the guy he was, George understood and never tried to push her. They were more like friends than family in the end.

He even offered to have Derek kicked around a little for Lacy when that whole thing went down. All in all, he was a pretty good guy, and he made her mother happy. His income allowed her to focus on what she loved, teaching, and so she'd quit the diner where they'd first met.

He was a good guy, and he loved Lacy's mother. But it didn't change the way Lacy felt about love and marriage. Even when they got married shortly after the birth of Kelsey, Lacy was still against the whole thing. Not for them mind you, just for herself.

She hoped it all worked out for her mother, God knew she deserved to be loved, but one example didn't change the bigger picture. Most men were dogs, Derek had proved that hadn't he? So it didn't matter that after seven years they were still going strong. It was a small sample size, and besides, her first marriage had failed, hadn't it? Miserably at that.

Lacy thought about all this and more as she flipped over and snuggled deeper into her silky sheets. Her mother's happy face crossing her mind, she smiled, yawning sleepily. Her mom had told her about Kelsey's upcoming dance recital at lunch, asking if Lacy would make it. Of course, she would. Lacy loved her little sister, the munchkin practically idolized her, Lacy thought as she fluffed her pillow and closed her eyes again.

Of course, it wasn't her sister, or her mother's face she saw just before the darkness consumed her again. Oddly enough, as she drifted off to sleep, it was the face of a man. A very handsome man. And normally, that might have troubled Lacy, but as the erotically charged dreams took over, she was blissfully seduced by this handsome stranger, completely unaware that he resembled the wayward hockey player she'd just as soon forget.

"Damn it, Dean! Get your fucking head the game!" Donovan yelled, throwing popcorn at the TV as Dean got too cute with the puck and it was stripped away by a defending player. The score was still 0-0 in the middle of the second period, but being as they were playing the team that currently had the worst record in the league, Dean shouldn't have had that giveaway.

Noah Dunst, a kid called up from the AHL was filling in for Donovan, and since he looked pretty good, their poor performance really couldn't be attributed too much to Donovan's absence. Okay, so Dunst was no Donovan with the puck, but he was certainly doing better than just alright. And yeah, okay, the Coyotes had their golden boy back, and he was killing it out there, but still, come on!

They were better than this pitiful display! Donovan was almost convinced he ought to call in and rip them over the phone during their next intermission. But the realization that it was easier to be critical from the couch kept him from following through.

It would be different if he were there, sitting on the bench or hell, on the ice, but he wasn't. He couldn't see beyond the bad camera angles, so who was he to judge? Maybe the Coyotes had their confidence back. Maybe they were having fun playing spoiler. That's pretty much all they had left to look forward to anyways.

Donovan just wished he had been able to go, to sit on the bench next to the guys and give them the encouragement they obviously needed. As the alternate captain, he was a big part of the morale, maybe more so than he realized.

Well, maybe he couldn't dress, but he'd be damned if he'd miss another home game, and he'd try to attend as many away games as he could too. Injury reserve or not, he could still sit in the locker room and help the guys figure out what adjustments needed to be made.

They couldn't afford to play like this against teams like Tampa, or Boston, both of which were on fire as of late. And both of which they still had to face at least once or twice more before the playoffs began. Not to mention the Capitals.

After losing their goalie at the end of December the Capitals had slipped from their perch at the top, but now that their big guy was back up and dancing again, they were pulling up the rear, and fast.

They were likely to clinch the last wild card spot, and with everyone healthy, they'd probably be the biggest contenders for the Slashers in the conference. The Rangers, whom they had beaten in the conference finals last year, just weren't as strong, and might not make it past the first round.

As the third period started, Donovan kept his eyes glued to the TV, trying to will his teammates to win. When the Coyotes scored he kicked the bowl of popcorn onto the floor, sending kernels everywhere and cursed as he bent down to pick it up and a white hot streak of pain shot down his arm. Rubbing his triceps gently, as if the motion would somehow ease the pain in his shoulder, Donovan missed it when Peter Petrovic nailed one home on a one-timer off a breakaway.

"Yes!" He shouted when he looked back at the screen, causing his shoulder to spasm again. "Shit that hurts!"

With that first and tying goal out of the way, the Slashers finally came alive. Andre Lepowski managed to score a power play goal, and that Dunst kid as Donovan so affectionately took to calling him, assisted Dean on a goal that pretty much put the game away.

Once the game finally ended, the Slashers winning it 4-1 after Dean got an empty netter, Donovan could hold back no longer and rang Coach Turski to congratulate them. He put Donovan on speaker phone, and everyone whooped and cheered for him after he sang his praises.

It was the perfect way to end the evening, finally something to feel good about after his awful ordeal. Donovan spoke to Dean for a few minutes, told him about his plans for the next couple of days, after which Dean informed him that he and Abby had settled on a date for their wedding, St. Patrick's day, which was a little unconventional in Donovan's mind, but whatever floated his boat, and the two said goodbye.

Donovan then went immediately to bed, where he passed out and slept like the dead.

### Chapter 5

Are you Dense?

The next morning, or really, more like afternoon, Lacy climbed out of bed and hopped in the shower to wash away the evening grime. Even though she had showered before leaving the gym the previous afternoon, after sleeping for more than ten hours straight, she'd gotten up a couple times during the night to eat and then again for a few hours where she sat and watched some Friends reruns, she felt like she needed another shower. Sleeping was a sweaty excursion after all, even if she was alone.

The AC was usually set around seventy-five since she wasn't home much anyways, and well, the weather was pretty intermittent right now, mother nature didn't know if she was ready for spring or not. Must be a woman, always blowing hot and cold the way she was, never could make up her mind.

So Lacy was between pulling the covers up to her chin and throwing them off again, she always woke up covered in sweat or freezing cold, but either way, a shower was usually in order once she tore away from her cozy bed.

After the hot spray of water washed away any germs, real or imagined, Lacy tied a thick terry cloth robe around her waist and headed into the kitchen. She decided on a bowl of cereal, not much in the mood for eggs or cooking them for that matter, and grabbed the smutty magazine she had borrowed from Tina off the counter, taking it to the table with her.

As she ate her breakfast of champions, Lacy skimmed various articles featuring the celebrities she cared very little for, and looked over the latest fashion blurbs, a who wore what and where type of commentary. Finally, she came to the article about Amie Donahue. No surprise, she looked gorgeous, Amie wasn't the kind of girl that only looked good in pictures, though, that was the first thing that came to mind.

Lacy could remember in detail just how the model had looked in person, and she hadn't missed the fact the woman hadn't been wearing makeup at the time either. She was naturally beautiful, and the professional pictures in the magazine, the ones showing her in this bathing suit or that, only seemed to enhance her looks.

She wasn't made up like some Cabaret dancer, the makeup in the photos appeared to be pretty minimal, which she supposed was what one would expect for a beach shoot, but then again, she'd seen some pretty photoshopped pictures and ones where the girls were wearing some outrageously colorful eye shadow. But not Amie, hell, the picture didn't even look like it had been airbrushed any!

Yeah, her legs were really that long, and damn, they were that shapely too! She had been wearing some pretty short shorts at the hospital, so Lacy would know. She'd just bet her stomach looked that good too, even though she wouldn't have been able to tell since the girl had been wearing a bulky sweater at the time, but yeah, that had to be her real body.

Lacy was almost tempted to compare her own figure to that of this woman, but then she realized how stupid that sounded. Lacy worked hard for her body, and yeah, maybe there were a few things here and there that she'd like to change, but really, her body was just as good as Amie's! It was really more so things like the freckles on her face, or the fact that she needed glasses, she hadn't really considered contacts mind you, but it was things like that she didn't care for.

Her body itself, though, well, her legs were long too, she'd bet she was even taller than Amie. And her stomach? Lacy had abs, not just a flat abdomen. Amie's body probably had more to do with her genetics and metabolism and less to do with actual exercise.

Yeah, she'd almost bet on it. God, what was wrong with her? Was she really comparing herself to this, this model? Why? Tossing her empty bowl in the sink, Lacy snagged the magazine off the table and curled up on the couch, getting down to the heart of the matter. She hadn't picked up the magazine because she was interested in Amie, on the contrary, she'd taken the magazine from Tina so she could get the dirt on Donovan. No. Wait, that wasn't right either.

Why the heck did she take the stupid magazine? She didn't honestly care one way or another about that stupid jock. And yet, she couldn't get the damned hockey player out of her mind! Why was that? Shaking her head, Lacy decided that once she read the article, and realized what a creep he obviously was, because really, tabloids never published good deeds, did they? she'd be able to laugh about the faint attraction she'd felt for him. He was just like any other guy, just like her father, just like Derek.

And here's your proof Lacy! she said to herself as she read the article word for word. A 'source' close to the model had supposedly confirmed what Amie had been suspicious of for months, that Donovan Pierce was a dog. There were several photos of him with various women. At a bar cozying up to a petite little brunette, pretty girls kissing him or hugging him, a leggy blonde all but completely wrapped around him in formal wear, and a total knockout with black hair and the most vibrant blue eyes she'd ever seen, embracing him emphatically.

Lacy had to hand it to him, at least the man had taste. That was for sure. But why so many women? Something about the male psyche she'd never understand. When you have a good woman, a beautiful woman like Amie, why on earth would you still fool around? If you weren't looking for a relationship, then why even enter into one?

Surely there were plenty of girls out there with mindsets similar to Lacy's, and really, even if there weren't, didn't women throw themselves at a guy like Donovan? Surely he'd have his choice of bedmates no matter which city he was in for the night!

If the pictures weren't damning enough, the article did it. It painted such an ugly picture of Donovan that Lacy could certainly understand why Amie would call off the engagement, but then again, her being at the hospital didn't make any sense. If the guy had cheated on her this many times, why the hell did she care about him one way or the other?

So what, he was in an accident, that didn't mean you forgot about all of his indiscretions and stood vigil at his bedside! The girl needed to get a grip! Donovan Pierce was trouble, the sooner this Amie chick figured that out, the better.

Lacy shook her head as she finished the article, some women were just stupid when it came to men, plain and simple.

After a most unpleasant morning spent in the office of his team's sports medicine department, where he was poked and prodded, scanned and x-raid, Donovan was only too happy to finally be heading for Louie's Gym, where Tom was waiting for him.

Donovan knew he probably wouldn't get into anything too physical today, Tom was mostly just going to evaluate him and look over the results of the doctors testing. More poking, more prodding. Whatever it took.

Walking up to the guest services desk once he got to the gym, Donovan paid for his guest pass and was told where he could find Tom. As he looked around, peeking into each room he passed, Donovan liked what he saw. It was a nice place, every bit as polished and up to date in its equipment as their website had said it was.

He could certainly see himself working out in a place like this. That is, if he hadn't already had the perfect gym at the rink where the team practiced. Although, it was pretty crowded as of late. Maybe a change of venue every once in awhile would do him some good. At least until he was up to par again. With his limited range of motion, he was bound to be embarrassed working out around his teammate's, even if it was all in his head.

Tom, whose last name was Moore, Donovan didn't know why he could never remember that, immediately put him to work, having Donovan take off the sling and slowly stretch his arm while he looked over the contents of the folder Donovan handed him.

"You got lucky," he said once he had skimmed through all of the results, setting the folder on a bench.

"Sorry?" Donovan asked.

"I said you got lucky," Tom walked up to him and put his hand on Donovan's back, bending him forward and pulling his right arm, his good arm, back behind him. "Could've been a lot worse, you got lucky."

Donovan grimaced as the motion, meant to loosen up the muscles he'd let go lax over the past couple days caused pain on the left side of his body. "Lucky, yeah, that's what everyone keeps telling me. I sure as hell don't feel lucky."

Tom laughed, having him stand up straight again as he moved to the left side of his body. Slowly he lifted Donovan's left arm, going no further than a few inches from his waist as Donovan began to groan in pain.

"While you're still in the sling, I want you to rotate your wrist and move your elbow and hand as much as possible." Tom began, making notes on a sheet of paper in the folder after picking it back up off the bench. "Once that thing comes off we'll try to be as aggressive as we can, lots of active and passive flexion, extensions, abductions and internal/external rotation, we can work on that here and at the rink if you want. Whenever I'm available, and I expect you to skate in your down time, keep your legs and lower body moving. Think you can do that?" He asked closing the folder and handing it back.

Putting the folder aside so he could put his sling back on and readjust the strap, Donovan nodded, "yeah, I can handle that."

"Good, then I'll see you at the rink in a couple of days. By then you should probably be able to go without that sling." Tom said looking at the chart of another patient. "When do you get the stitches out?"

"Next week."

Tom nodded, "alright. By the way, I don't think this will take six weeks Donovan. Maybe four, but not six." He said turning away from him, probably to prepare for his next client, or so he assumed.

Taken aback, though, Donovan's eyebrows rose as he processed that bit of information, "well that's good news."

"If you work hard, and do everything I tell you to do, then four weeks is more than reasonable," Tom continued, his back still to him.

"I'm sure Coach will be happy to hear that," Donovan remarked on his way out. Yes, Coach would be more than happy to hear that. Of course, it'd only make him ride Donovan harder though too. Maybe he could be back in less than four weeks?

They already figured they'd be able to put him on the injury reserve as he would most definitely be out the required seven days, but after that, they could put him down as day to day if they really wanted to. Either way, Donovan had his marching orders now, and he was as determined as ever to get back out onto the ice as soon as possible.

The next few days were a blur for Lacy, she worked long and hard hours at the hospital. Those three straight days were hell on her body. By the time the second day was over, she'd almost considered skipping her spinning class, but deviating from her routine would just make her feel worse. Besides, she'd already missed one day before she'd started the three days of hell since she'd overslept that day. On the third day, however, she decided to skip yoga and went jogging instead.

She jogged all the time when she was younger, not that she was old or anything, but for the past few years now she'd been going to Louie's Gym. Hitting the pavement again for once felt nice. The neighborhood she lived in was quaint, had a nice homey feel to it. The sidewalks were maintained, and the tree-lined streets with their newly budding flowers were fragrant and beautiful.

God, why didn't she do this more often? Was looking at Ryan, the gay stud, three days a week as he stretched his glutes and flexed his triceps, really better than the fresh air and open spaces of the great outdoors?

Lacy laughed at herself. Oh yeah, watching Ryan bend over was definitely better than ducking under the trees as the pigeons tried to make a bull's eye out of you. Maybe she could drop her Sunday cardio in favor of a good jogging trail if she could find one, though, but she wasn't about to give up Ryan. Gay or not, he was nice to look at. Those big blue-green eyes, that crooked grin, Lacy didn't give a damn that he swung for the other team, she wasn't interested in sleeping with the guy, she just liked to look at him.

Rounding the corner back to her place, Lacy jogged over to the mailboxes and picked up her mail, might as well kill two birds with one stone. On the way upstairs to her apartment, she flipped through the mail, bills, bills, coupons and a circular for the local grocery store, more bills, and wait, what was that? A card? There was no return address, so once inside, she turned on a light and set the rest of the mail in a little slot on the back of the door where she put stuff to sort through later.

Grabbing a pen, she slid it through the top of the envelope and sliced it open. It was a birthday card. Funny, Lacy's birthday was a couple of weeks ago. Of course, she wasn't surprised when she realized who it was from. "Hope you have a great birthday, Love Dad and Patricia." What a joke!

She couldn't believe after all these years, that he still couldn't take the hint! Then again, maybe this was all Patricia's doing. Did the woman honestly think Lacy was ever going to acknowledge her? How pathetic. Lacy threw the card with its envelope in the trash, but not before ripping it to shreds. The check for a hundred dollars, however, she was keeping that.

Not that she was going to cash it or anything like that, dear old dad sent her three checks a year, just like this one. One for her birthday, one for Easter and one for Christmas, though the one for Easter was usually only for fifty and the one for Christmas varied each year between two hundred and five.

Guess the trucking business was doing well. He was an owner now after all. Either way, it didn't matter to Lacy, she didn't want anything to do with the man, not even his money. So she took the checks to a local children's' shelter and signed it over to them.

She didn't know whether or not her dad could tell who cashed the checks, but it didn't really matter to her one way or the other. He kept sending them, well, someone kept sending them, so she kept donating them. Let that be his penance for being such an asshole! As if he could ever make it up to her anyways!

Snorting, Lacy tucked the check into her sock drawer, she'd take it down to the shelter tomorrow, and headed for the shower. After that three mile run, she felt grimy as ever. Afterward, she'd make herself a sandwich and hit the sack. It had been a long three days, she was tired, and she was going to sleep for a week. At least she felt like she could.

She had the next two days off, and she planned to take full advantage of it. She had a recital to see, her little sister was quite the ballerina, and she intended to get a massage and play a little racket ball, maybe head to the beach, she liked the beaches out on Tybee Island. Yeah, that sounded like a pretty good way to spend her time off.

It had been over a week since the accident. Donovan had kept busy, mostly with lower body workouts and simple reps to stretch out the muscles in his back and shoulders, but he'd been careful, always following the instructions of his medical staff.

The sling was off, the stitches were out, and Steve was home. The doctors had been surprised at just how quickly the small gash on the top of Donovan's shoulder had healed. Maybe four weeks really was a reasonable time frame after all.

Of course, with Steve hanging around the place, moaning and groaning the way he was, Donovan wanted to get out of the house and back to work as soon as humanly possible! Having had to spend Valentine's day at home listening to Steve whine about his car was certainly NOT how he wanted to spend his time. Not that he would've been in a dating mood anyways, but still.

He'd hired a nurse to see to Steve, that way he wouldn't have to, but of course, Steve was still a constant pain in the ass anyways. Donovan even did him the favor of making sure the home health aide was attractive, but did that appease Steve? Not in the slightest. He just kept bitching about everything. He had an itch on his leg that he couldn't scratch, it was too cold, it was too hot, he was hungry. What didn't he piss and moan about? It was damn near driving him crazy!

So when Tom offered him another session mid-week at Louie's Gym, Donovan didn't hesitate to take him up on the offer.

Thinking about what he was going to do for dinner as he finished up his reps, Donovan thanked Tom, and grabbing his gym bag, he headed for the showers.

Cleaner, but still undecided about what he wanted to eat, Donovan stopped short as he noticed the long legged beauty he immediately recognized as the sour puss nurse from the hospital cross in front of him, headed in the same direction.

"It's Lacy right?" He asked before he even realized what he was doing.

Startled, she looked up at him, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Donovan? Donovan Pierce? Room three, about a week ago?"

Lacy just looked at him for a moment, a blank stare as she contemplated how best to answer him.

"I was in a car accident? Any of this ringing a bell?" He continued, honestly thinking for a second that he had the wrong girl.

"Right." She finally said, attempting to end the conversation and keep walking.

Donovan was stunned, "so it's not just your bedside manner then eh?" he said, spouting off at the mouth.

Lacy did an about face, fire and brimstone boiling in her deep sage colored eyes. "Excuse me?" She spat.

"Well, you were kind of rude to me." He answered with a shrug of his good shoulder.

"And you were kind of a baby."

"Ouch."

"See what I mean? Baby." Lacy taunted, God what was this? She was acting like some sort of teenager in a name calling match.

Donovan thought as much himself, laughing as he was clearly amused by it.

"Why are you laughing? I called you a baby and you think that's funny?"

Donovan nodded, wincing and grasping his shoulder as the movement spurred a sudden shock of pain.

The nurse in her was instantly alert, Lacy dropped her gym bag and the stack of magazines she was holding, reaching out to him. "You okay?" She asked, leading him to a bench just inside the doorway.

Sitting, Donovan looked up at her, "as if you care," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"I'm a nurse, remember? Of course, I care, it's my job to care. Even if you are a boneheaded jock."

Was that a smile on her face? Incredible! He wasn't sure the woman even knew how to smile, but now that she had, God, what a face, what a mouth! Donovan had the strongest urge to kiss that mouth, drain her of her sassiness and will her into submission. He was willing to bet, a girl like her hadn't spent very much time submitting to anything, or anyone for that matter.

Finally getting a grip on himself and slowing his overzealous heartbeat, Donovan stood, rubbing his shoulder gently and rotating it a couple of times. "I'm fine," he managed to say.

"Good," Lacy replied. The moment was gone. She wasn't sure what exactly had just passed between them, but whatever it was, she certainly didn't want to stick around to find out.

Donovan grabbed her gym bag for her, handing it to her as she picked up the magazines, the latest issue of Star on top. "God, you read that garbage?" Donovan grunted, though mentally hoping she'd missed the one about him and Amie.

Lacy's eyes narrowed, "sometimes," she said dispassionately.

Taking another tact, Donovan pulled his bag further up the good side of his arm, "look, I'm sorry I called you rude. That wasn't very nice of me. I'm sure you're a lovely person."

With a little effort, Lacy said: "apology accepted." Before turning away and attempting to leave again.

Donovan caught her wrist, "wait, aren't you going to apologize for calling me a baby?"

Lacy looked at the hand on her arm as though it were a fly in need of swatting, pulling forcefully from his grasp she finally met his gaze. "No." Was all she said in reply before pushing through the door to the gym and walking out onto the sidewalk.

It took Donovan a minute, but he sprinted after her, catching her just before she turned the corner heading to the public parking garage. "Damn it, woman, wait up." He called after her.

Lacy, however, didn't stop. So Donovan matched her stride for stride as they continued into the garage. "Can I take you out for coffee sometime or something?" He heard himself say, both of them stopping in their tracks. He was just as surprised as she by the invitation.

"Are you really so dense?" She asked after a minute, cocking her head to the side.

"Why would you say that?"

Lacy laughed, more of a snort really. "What on earth have I said to you that would indicate I was in any way interested in you?"

"Maybe it's not what you said," Donovan answered quickly, trying to bluff his way along.

Lacy tilted her head in the opposite direction, considering that for a second. No. He was crazy, had to be. "So it's my hostile body language that gave me away, was it? I stand by my earlier assumption; you really are that dense." Before he could reply, Lacy dashed off in the direction of her silver Acura and slipped behind the wheel.

Donovan, now more intrigued than ever, watched her go without making an attempt to stop her again. Maybe he needed to have a brain scan too, he must have hit his head harder than they thought. Only an idiot would attempt to pursue a woman like Lacy Johnson. Especially after that exchange.

Jeez, I'm an idiot. He thought to himself.

### Chapter 6

A Little Research

What was it with that guy? Lacy asked herself on the drive home.

He just couldn't seem to stop himself, could he? And how rude! Okay, so maybe she hadn't been miss Mary Fucking Sunshine herself, but he started it! God, there she went again, acting like a freaking child. Man, he brought out the worst in her! It was like she regressed whenever she was around him. Maybe it was the jock syndrome, hadn't she usually acted like an idiot around Derek too?

Hell, she didn't know, that was what? almost ten years ago? Well, seven, but close enough. And yeah, she'd probably acted like an idiot in front of him too, it had taken her almost two years to figure out he'd been cheating on her after all. So it was safe to say it might have had something to do with the fact that he was a mindless athlete and less to do with any sort of attraction to him. Right?

Lacy parked in her spot, grabbed her gear and magazines, and locked the car up with a punch of a button on her remote, squinting into the sun as she made her way up the stairs and into her second story unit. She dropped everything at the door and quickly headed for the shower. In addition to the sweat from today's workout, she felt like she needed to get the reminder of Donovan and their conversation off her mind. Hopefully, the heat from the water could clear away the fog.

After the steaming shower, which she assumed had done the trick as she wasn't currently thinking of Donovan any longer, she threw on a pair of sweats and a baggy Star Wars t-shirt, making a bee-line for the kitchen and tossing together a salad. As she sat at the table and enjoyed her salad, a mixture of spinach, fruits, nuts and chicken, all her favorites, she absently flipped through the magazines she had bought from a street vendor on the way to the gym.

She didn't realize it of course, but as she skimmed the contents of the latest scandals, she was really only looking for one thing. The goods on Donovan. Although, with nothing new to report, Donovan and his cheating ways were no longer news. Obviously, no one cared about Donovan Pierce, at least not in the world of tabloid entertainment.

Pushing the magazine aside, Lacy scooted her laptop over in front of her and powered it up. She checked her emails, replying to a couple of them, and read up on her horoscope. Not that she believed in astrology or anything, but it was always fun to compare what it said with what actually happened that day, and sometimes she'd even look at the full weekly one as well. They were usually wrong, but it never stopped her from looking.

Satisfied that she was unlikely to meet a stranger that had the potential to change her outlook on life, yeah because that was going to happen! She pulled up the Yahoo search engine and read the latest highlights. Presidential crap, blah blah blah, Lacy was a registered voter, but honestly, she didn't think there really was a lesser of two evils when it came to Democrats and Republicans, so she just didn't vote at all.

Though, the latest Dear Abby caught her eye for a second, so she opened it and read a letter asking Abby to tell her what to do about her cheating spouse, because Abby, "we have the kids to think of" she plead. In Lacy's mind, if you had to write to a vanity news column and ask for advice, then you already had your mind made up, to begin with. If you really wanted some sound advice, you'd seek out someone with a degree! Probably just looking for sympathy or some kind of an affirmation.

Snickering to herself as she mentally suggested things to the lady from letter number one, Lacy hit the back button and continued looking over the news. The next article to catch her eye was, surprise surprise, one about Donovan Pierce. In fact, the next several articles down the line were about Donovan and or the Savannah Slashers. As the trade deadline fast approached, whatever the hell that meant, the Slashers' GM had apparently been an active participant and picked up a couple of very marketable players in Donovan's absence.

Again, whatever that meant.

The next article was so obviously a conspiracy theorist's wet dream, as the writer made several suggestions as to whether or not Donovan was actually even hurt. "Maybe the Slashers' were so scared of losing back to back cup finals to the Chicago Blackhawks that they faked an injury to get some better players under the cap." The bozo had gone on to say.

Right, because a team is so desperate to win a trophy that they'd go to the trouble of causing a car accident, one involving a drunk driver at that, and then capitalize on it? Ludicrous! Lacy was nearly tempted to write a comment and let this idiot, Greg whatever his last name was, sounded like Wishbone, know just how stupid he sounded, but thankfully, there were plenty of other commentators that let rip their opinions of this tool. Some of them even made her laugh!

Clicking on the next article, she watched a short video of Donovan giving a press conference. He gave an edited version of the gruesome details of the car accident, obviously trying to spare his cousin any of the backlash, which was actually quite noble of him, and then went on to talk about his injury and the predicted recovery time. Six weeks he said. His staff of doctors and physical therapists were working diligently towards a speedy recovery, but as of now, he had a six-week timeline.

Maybe she was no physical therapist herself, but seeing as he was no longer wearing a sling, and seemed to have a pretty good range of motion already after just one week, Lacy doubted it was going to take the full six weeks. But what did she know? And when it came down to it, she knew even less about the politics of sports, what was an injury reserve? A cap? Why did trades have deadlines? Did she even really want to know for that matter?

Lacy sighed, as much as she didn't want to admit it, especially to herself, not that anyone else even knew of this recent obsession of hers, she did want to know the answers to those questions. So she pulled up a second tab, and set her sights on google.

A cap was the amount of money a team could spend on its players every year, and it was slowly rising, as of now, it hovered around seventy-one million, God that was a lot of money! And the Slashers were right up against it, especially with the new players they'd added to their roster before the deadline. Which was the last day in February. A team had until then to shop around and make trades with other teams, after that, they were pretty much locked in with what and who they had until the offseason.

Except for whatever they had in their AHL affiliate team, boy that was confusing. There was the professional team, then an amateur team or a "farm league" as they called it, where they had guys in varying degrees of readiness, and could call up as they put it, at will to play on their team, but they still had to be under the cap, so current roster members had to be scratched from the game in their stead.

God, what a mouth full that was. By the time she was done reading about the financial aspect of the game and all the rules and regulations, Lacy was convinced it was all just a business. Why they called it a sport she couldn't understand. Every business was competitive, but she'd always thought sports were just for fun, once you started getting paid for it, in her mind at least, it was just another job. Because really, plenty of people loved what they did for a living.

And lastly, there was the injury reserve. A player had to miss at least seven consecutive days, games and practices included to be considered for injury reserve, and for the duration, their pay, while they still got it, was off the books, thus why the Slashers were able to go out and pick up a couple of players in Donovan's absence.

Her curiosity satisfied, Lacy's attention went back to the previous tab where the video had long since ended. So Donovan was quite valuable to the Slashers huh? She'd seen in one of the articles that he along with his captain Dean Kirk tied up almost a third of their cap space, he was making big bucks. But why? Just how good was he?

Of course, that led her to do a little more research on Donovan himself. And that's all it was, research. She just wanted to get a better idea about the business aspect of things. She had no personal interest in the man. At least she kept trying to tell herself that.

Once she did a google search, she certainly wasn't disappointed. There were plenty of articles on Donovan to choose from. Of course, there were a few from non-sports related sources, ET, Star, etc. etc. but she pretty much knew all there was to know about his love life, she was interested in him from a purely financial angle as of right now. She wanted to know exactly what kind of skill set he was bringing to the table that made him worth so much damn money!

And there was a wealth of information. Videos galore of what sports commentators would say over and over were some "sick shots" that he had "dirty hands" or was "quick on the release" "deadly with the puck" even. She had to admit as she watched the short clips, that he was good. The goalie often never saw the shot coming, let alone had a chance to stop it. And the way he passed the puck, man, half the time he wasn't even looking, he just shot it backward or to the side, and there was his teammate, ready and waiting!

Who knew hockey could be so exciting? Wait, slow down Lacy, hockey is so NOT your style! And really, what's so great about a bunch of guys pushing a little black piece of rubber from one end of the ice to other? Okay, maybe they were pretty acrobatic, it certainly took a lot of skill to do what they did out there on the ice at that, but did they really deserve millions to do it?

Moving onward with her search, she learned that Donovan was from Canada, drafted when he was just seventeen. There were even a few pictures of him with his family. A good looking bunch. His father obviously had French roots with his dark looks, but his mother was probably Scandinavian, she had fair hair, and freckles, lots of freckles. Just like Lacy.

While Donovan had most likely inherited her lighter features, he didn't have those freckles, but his brother sure did. He was young, probably still in high school, and darker like his father, but with his mother's eyes, that trademark grin that Donovan had also inherited, a real heart-stopper when he aimed it at you, and the freckles again, his little brother had lots of those.

Of course, there were plenty of other pictures too. Donovan and his teammates, Donovan in a tux, goodness he cleaned up well! Donovan in uniform, Donovan fishing with Dean and a couple of other guys, and Donovan with Amie. She really was pretty, and they looked happy together, maybe that was before he cheated on her. Snap out of it Lacy, you have to let go of this sick little obsession! Snubbing herself mentally, Lacy closed all of the browsers and shut the laptop down.

There was just no logical reason for her to be concerning herself with Donovan Pierce. He was scum, and she was sure of it. So why did she care if he had a good looking family, or if he cheated on his girlfriend, correction fiancée? She didn't. No, she didn't care at all. Just like she didn't care about how much money he made, or if he did his job well enough to deserve it. And she sure as hell didn't care about hockey or its rules and regulations! Besides, she had much better things to do than sit around here all day and contemplate why Donovan Pierce had asked her out on a date.

Because he wants to get in your pants! Duh! And what's so wrong with that? "What do you mean what's so wrong with that?" she asked herself. "Everything! Everything is wrong with that! The man is a total D O G with a capital D!" She argued with a final nod as she took her dirty dishes to the sink to wash them.

This had to stop, she had to get that stupid jock out of her head! Reaching for her cell phone, Lacy sent a text to her mother asking what she was doing for dinner, maybe they could get together, Lacy knew her stepfather usually worked late on Wednesdays. George was a flight instructor at a local academy, and on Wednesdays, he booked evening flights, so her mother usually did dinner without him, mostly takeout.

Her mom responded quickly, told Lacy if she wanted to pick up a couple of pies she'd love to have her over. Kelsey had lots to tell her. So Lacy sent her a "no problem" in return and went to the bedroom to change her clothes. One never knew when they might run into someone important after all, so if she weren't heading to the gym she managed to be at least presentable.

Before he knew it, another full week had gone by. They were less than a week away from the trade deadline, and their GM, under the guise of Donovan being out the full six weeks had made some major moves. After the offseason last year, when they had thought they'd picked up all the pieces they needed to make another deep cup run, they had soon figured out that their third and fourth lines still needed a little help.

The fourth line was full of big "shutdown" players, including Andre Lepowski, who was now in his second season with the Slashers and poised to be a second or even a first liner in the coming years at the rate he was going. Coach was hoping to put him at the third line winger position come playoff time, and now that Cooper Stanfield, their GM had picked up a center for the third line, one they needed desperately, moving Andre was in the foreseeable future for sure.

As for the first line, where Donovan usually held down the right wing position, they snagged a great rental from the L.A. Kings, he'd probably get shipped off come the end of the season, but for now he'd take Donovan's spot while he was injured, and then later rotate between the second and fourth lines.

All in all, Stanfield had made some damn good choices, but with his last name, he'd always figured he was destined to win a Stanley Cup. Not that it had been named after him or anything, but still, it was part of his namesake! And sure enough, he was a financial genius under the current cap, right up there with the Blackhawks own GM Stan Bowman, who was in fact named after the Stanley Cup, and had already won a few while with the Hawks.

Not that Donovan really cared about that or the roster changes, it was good to know they had an even better shot at the cup now, but honestly, he was just glad to be back at the rink and on the ice.

He'd had a lot on his mind lately, and being able to practice out there with his team, he forgot about all of his problems, it was just him, the puck and the ice. It felt great to be pelting a few shots towards the net, even if it did hurt like hell. Donovan, of course, wasn't allowed full contact yet, but he was only about a week or so away from that, then it was go time.

Sitting in the locker room with the guys after practice, though, he had one thing on his mind, so he turned to Dean. Not just his captain but also his best friend.

"Hey man, when you sent those tickets to Abby, how did she react?"

"I don't know, I wasn't there," Dean replied, pausing as he taped his stick up, and looked over at Donovan. "Why do you ask?"

"There's this girl," he admitted with a sigh.

"Yeah? A girl huh? You going to bring her to the wedding next week?"

"What? No, I'm bringing Amie remember?"

"I thought you two broke up?" Dean asked confused.

"We did, jeez Dean, get with it. Abby invited Amie too, so we just figured we'd go together, we're still friends you know."

"Oh, okay. Whatever you say, man. So this girl, where'd you meet her anyways?"

Looking down at his feet and scuffing them against the carpet Donovan nearly said under his breath, "at the hospital."

Again, Dean stopped what he was doing and eyed his friend. "You don't mean that bitchy little nurse you were complaining about do you?" When Donovan didn't deny it, Dean continued. "Jesus Christ man, are you a glutton or what?"

"Maybe," Donovan said sulkily. "There's just something about her, alright? Is that a crime?"

"Something about her, right." Dean scoffed, turning back to his stick and wrapping another layer of tape around it. "You just can't stand the fact that she wasn't slobbering all over you like every other woman on the planet!" He accused.

"Whatever! Fuck you, man! Abby didn't hit on me, and I certainly didn't go after her, did I?"

Dean lifted his stick as though he might smack him with it, but thought better of it, lowering it back to the ground and ripping the end of the tape. "You're serious about this chick?" He finally asked.

"Yeah, I am. That or else I'm just plain stupid."

"Well, the jury's still out on that one."

Donovan glared at him.

"Alright, alright, what can I do to help you?" Dean asked, a smile on his handsome face.

"Some useful advice would be nice."

Running his hands through his hair, Dean thought about it for a minute. "Is she a Slasher's fan?" He finally asked.

Donovan shook his head, "I don't think she's into sports period."

"Well, then sending her tickets probably won't do you any good. I met Abby at a game remember? It probably wouldn't have worked otherwise. Maybe you could try sending her flowers?"

"She'd probably throw them away."

"Wow, what the hell did you do to this chick Donny?" Dean asked in earnest. "You think she hates you to the point she'd throw out some flowers? Why even bother?"

"I dunno man, she's just... different."

"Different than what? Amie?"

At the mention of Amie again, Donovan's eyes clouded a little, Dean could tell he still had some pretty strong feelings for her, and he didn't quite understand why they had called it quits, to begin with.

"Yeah, she's definitely different than Amie. Just as beautiful I'd say, but polar opposites. She's got spunk, fire. It's hard to describe it, there's just something about her and I can't wrap my head around it. I just want the chance to get to know her. That's all."

Pulling off his skates, Dean shrugged, at a loss. "Well, short of stalking her, I'm not sure what to tell you, man. A girl that would throw flowers away strikes me as a bit odd."

"That's it!" Donovan exclaimed standing suddenly.

"What's it? Stalking her? You can't be serious man.." Dean said rolling his eyes. "Hell maybe you are a little crazy"

Sitting down again, Donovan shook his head, "no. I'm not going to stalk her you idiot, but maybe if I can find out what her schedule is, and I know how often she goes to that gym, I can 'run into her' a few more times." He said using little finger quotes, "wear her down until she agrees to go out with me. That sort of thing."

"Yeah? And what are you going to do, walk into the hospital and ask them for her schedule, her habits? I'm not sure that's going to work out so well for you Donny." Dean put in, being the voice of reason. It's not that what Donovan was suggesting was that far off the mark, but it was tricky for sure. Privacy laws being what they were.

Just then, Peter Petrovic, who had been subtly eavesdropping, though he really only understood every other word, with his broken English and all, turned to Donovan and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Family I used to live with, daughter was nurse. You want I get you her number?" He asked in his thick Russian accent.

Donovan's mood suddenly revived after Dean's words had brought him back down the earth, he spoke excitedly. "Did she work at Memorial?" he asked.

"Da." Peter said, "think so."

Smiling over at Dean, "then yes, I want her number." Donovan smirked.

Dean just shook his head and stood to make his way into the showers, "I hope it all works out for you. Really, I'm pulling for you. Just be careful Donny." he commented over his shoulder.

Donovan simply waved him off, "yeah, whatever." Then turning back to Peter he said: "how soon do you think you could get me that number?"

Peter nodded, not completely accustomed to their ways as he should have shrugged instead, "later maybe? I text it to you. Da?"

"Thanks, Pete, I owe you one!" Donovan said, clapping him on the shoulder and heading for the showers himself.

Lacy sat at a desk in the chair next to Tina, and yawned emphatically. "So are the two of you planning on having kids soon?" she asked stretching her long legs in front of her.

When Tina had gotten back from her little honeymoon the week before, she'd gushed to Lacy about the Islands, and how much fun they'd had. Of course, most of that fun was spent in bed, but she wasn't one to kiss and tell. Maybe she liked to hear about the crazy things Lacy did, but she was married, and married people just didn't talk about that stuff. Or so she had said whenever Lacy asked her about it.

Tina shook her head, "I don't know, maybe. Probably not, though. I mean we both want kids, but he's getting ready to take the Sergeant's test and well, I think I might want to go back to school. Become a licensed practitioner."

"Really? I'm happy just being a nurse." Lacy replied, flipping through a magazine she found on the floor. "Besides, I don't think I'd have the patience to go back to school. No, thank you. Four years was enough for me."

Lacy had just finished her shift, and was waiting for Tina to complete her charts so they could get out of there and head to the gym. Boy, was she glad the month was almost over; she couldn't wait to be working days again!

It wasn't that she really minded working the night shift, the pay differential was nice, but when she worked days, she had more time for a social life. It was hard to make herself sleep when her body wanted to be awake, and the blinds she'd bought to black out the windows, just weren't enough sometimes.

"I know what you mean, it was definitely hard enough to get through that, but I dunno, I guess I just don't see myself working at the hospital for the rest of my life. It was really only ever a stepping stone in my mind."

"Then why not just go into private practice? That's what I plan to do at some point."

Tina closed the folder on the last chart and shrugged, "something to think about for sure."

Nodding, Lacy stood and stretched out all her limbs, kneading a sore muscle in her back. "Done?" she asked.

"Done," Tina confirmed gathering up her personal stuff. "How about some breakfast, on me, before the gym?"

"Sounds good, I could really go for some pancakes."

"Pancakes? Mmmhmmm.. God, I wish I wasn't on a diet." Tina complained licking her lips as she imagined eating pancakes smothered in warm maple syrup.

Lacy laughed, "just think, another fifteen pounds and you'll be good to go."

"Ugh, you make it sound so simple. I don't have your metabolism Lace, those fifteen pounds are sooo hard to get off!"

"You'll get there," Lacy assured her, clapping her on the back and moving her towards the exit.

### Chapter 7

Are you Stalking me?

Donovan waited impatiently for Peter to get him that number, and it felt like it was taking forever, but after two full days of silence, Peter finally sent him a text message with the name and number of the girl whose parents he used to live with.

And of course, Donovan had already waited long enough, it was 10:00 am on a Saturday, he didn't really care if she was awake or at work, he was calling her, now.

"Hello?" Came a voice from the end of the other line after just a couple of rings.

"Shannon? Is this Shannon?" Donovan asked nervously.

"It is, and who am I speaking to?"

"It's Donovan, Peter gave me your number. I hope that's okay."

"Oh, Donovan. Yeah, Peter told me you were going to call. What was it again that you wanted, the name of a nurse or something?" She asked sounding kind of bored.

Were all nurses bitches? Jeez, maybe it was just him, he thought, shaking it off.

"No, I uh, I know her name."

"Okay, then what do you want from me?" Again, a smidgen of attitude was present in her voice.

"I was hoping you might be able to get me her schedule, or tell me what days she goes to the gym."

"Seriously? You want me to stalk her? That's creepy."

Donovan pulled the phone away from his face and looked at it as if the girl on the other side could see his annoyed expression. "well, when you put it like that, it does sound kind of creepy, that's not what I'm trying to do, though."

"Then what are you trying to do?" She inquired, this time with a little more interest and a little less annoyance.

"I just want to get to know her, I ran into her at the gym the other day, and I wanted to know how often she goes there, so maybe I could run into her again," Donovan explained.

"Alright, I'll bite. What's her name?"

"It's uh, Johnson. Lacy Johnson."

There was a snort of laughter on the other end, then a brief silence. "Shannon?" He said when he thought she had hung up on him.

"Lacy Johnson? Are you kidding me? You must be kidding. No man in his right mind would want to get to know Lacy!" She blurted out, still laughing.

Donovan held the phone away from his ear again, at least until most of the laughter subsided. "What makes you say that?" He cut in, giving her pause.

"Frankly, Lacy has a reputation when it comes to men, and for starters, you are so not her type."

"What kind of a reputation? And what do you mean I'm not her type"

"The man-eating kind." She admitted, sighing and side stepping the second question. "But if your mind is set, I might be able to help you out. For a price."

Ignoring her first remark about being a man-eater, Donovan jumped on the opportunity she presented. "What do you want?"

The way she paused, obviously for effect, Donovan could just imagine her scratching her chin on the other end and contemplating just what she could get from him.

"My little brother Jimmy is obsessed with you, and his birthday is coming up," she began.

"Done, you want a couple of tickets? Done." Donovan said cutting her off.

"Oh wow, that'd be great, but not what I had in mind. No, no, he has this rookie card of yours, I thought maybe you'd sign it for him." She said taken aback by his generous offer.

Donovan smacked himself in the forehead, "right, an autograph, I can do that, sure."

"Oh no no, no you don't, you offered tickets, now I want tickets. Good tickets. And the autograph!"

"Fine!" Donovan ground out, "I'll get you a couple of seats right behind the benches, and I'll sign the damn card. But you have to find out when and what time she goes to the gym. Deal?"

Was that snickering? Was she snickering? He said to himself, lips moving as he listened to her whispered laughter.

"I definitely got the better end of the bargain, but yeah, Deal. I'll let you know when I get the information you want and we can meet up somewhere to make the exchange. Pleasure doing business with you Donovan." She said just before hanging up.

What had he just gotten himself into? he wondered. He sure as hell hoped she was worth it. He was going to have to cash in on a couple of favors to get those tickets, so yeah, maybe she had gotten the better end of the deal. Information for expensive tickets? Damn, damn it all to hell.

If what Shannon had said was true of course, then he had his work cut out for him anyways. A man-eater huh? Hadn't he dealt with her kind before? Probably, maybe, no he didn't think so. He usually went for the easy girls, well, that was before he'd met Amie anyways. Now he was more interested in a woman with a brain. A woman with some grit. Maybe one that could keep him on his toes. Lacy would certainly do that. Hadn't she already?

Donovan liked a challenge, bring it on he thought. Bring it on.

It was Tuesday, March 1st, and Lacy was just getting ready to start her first morning shift of the month. She took a deep breath, dragging in a lung full of the crisp spring morning air, and walked into the hospital.

Passing by Tina's desk on the way in, she stopped to say hello for a couple of seconds. Tina was just finishing up her last night shift for the month of February. Not so lucky for her that she hadn't been off the night before like Lacy had.

"Hey, I'm glad you stopped by," Tina said as she straightened up her area.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Do you know a nurse by the name of Shannon... oh what was her last name, Langsley! Yeah, that's it. Shannon Langsley. Does that ring a bell?"

Lacy thought about it for a minute and then shook her head, "I don't think so. Oh, wait! Does she have really short, spiky black hair?"

"That's her!"

"I know who she is then, why do you ask?"

Picking up her purse, Tina walked with Lacy to the coffee machine, "she was asking about you, well, okay, maybe not personally, but she was asking about that gym we go to, like how often you went and everything."

"That's kind of weird," Lacy said raising her eyebrows as she filled a cup with some Colombian brew and topped it off with cream and sugar. "Did she say why she wanted to know?"

"Well, yeah, but it still seemed kind of weird. She said she was looking for a new gym and just wanted to see a familiar face the first couple of times she went."

"Okay, and what's so weird about that?"

Tina shrugged, "I dunno, nothing I guess."

"So did you tell her then?" Lacy blew on her coffee and took a sip, grimacing before adding a few more packets of sugar.

"Yeah. That's okay, right? I mean, I figured I tell you about it, but even if it bugged me a little, I didn't think you'd mind."

The two continued down the hall and took the elevator down to the emergency room floor where Lacy worked, "Fine with me. We still good for tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. I'm headed there now, and then I'm going to go home and catch up on my sleep, try to get back on schedule. So I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"You got it!" Lacy said waving to her as she stepped off the elevator.

Shannon Langsley huh? She'd seen Shannon around a few times, knew she worked the maternity ward and that she was a couple of years older than her, but that was about the extent of it.

Oh well. As she went to her station and got caught up with the current patient list, she didn't give Shannon or her sudden interest in her another thought. If she saw her at the gym she might show her the ropes, but she didn't really care too much one way or the other. It was what it was, and from the looks of it, she had a busy day ahead of her.

Later that morning, once Donovan had finished a workout with Tom, who said his arm was improving daily and that he could probably do a little light contact as soon as next week, Donovan found himself sitting at a coffee shop downtown, waiting for Shannon to arrive.

Since he'd never met her before, he asked Peter what she looked like. Peter described her as kind of butchy looking. Said she had spiky black hair, a man's build and never wore makeup. And boy was he right on target! The name Shannon always sounded pretty feminine to Donovan, however, this woman was anything but! And she was supposed to be a maternity ward nurse? He sure as hell wouldn't want a woman like her working on his wife when she was having a baby! She might hit on her!

Wife, ha! Like Donovan was going to have a wife anytime soon, or kids for that matter! Then again, why the hell was he chasing down information about Lacy Johnson? Certainly not because he wanted to marry her! He just wanted to get to know her a little. Maybe get in her pants a couple of times.. yeah that was it.

You married a girl like Amie, and one day when the timing was right, he just might. A girl like Lacy, though, they'd probably have a lot of fun together, but who was he kidding, even IF he wanted to marry her, a girl like that, with her spitfire attitude, she wouldn't use the word matrimony, let alone agree to it. Better get that line of thinking out of his head, like right now.

Even though he was a celebrity of sorts, when Donovan was all dressed down he could pretty much go anywhere, except for a few of the sports bars in town, but a coffee shop? Unless the person took a really good look at him, they'd probably have absolutely no idea who he was.

But since Shannon knew they were meeting here, and she knew who he was for that matter, not to mention that she and her family were big Slashers fans who regularly hosted foreign players in their home, she immediately walked over to his table and sat down.

"Got the goods?" She asked, looking around as though they were in some kind of murder mystery movie.

Donovan laughed, "what are you doing?" he asked.

"Just playing the part," she replied, shrugging her wide shoulders. The woman really was built like a linebacker! "Seriously, though, did you bring it?"

"Did you?"

"Of course," she nodded, reaching into a large duffle bag at her feet. "I keep my word." Shannon pulled out a small case and opening it, carefully lifted one of Donovan's rookie cards out of a plastic sleeve, handing it to him and pulling a marker from behind her ear. "But first, I need your John Hancock."

Donovan took the card and marker from her, quickly scrawling his name across the bottom of the card and handing it back to her.

"Aren't you going to personalize it?" She asked.

Donovan shook his head, "it's worth more if I don't." He then reached into his pocket and slid a plain white envelope across the table.

Peeking inside to take a look at the tickets, Shannon took a piece of what looked like scrap paper from her shirt pocket and handed it over. "The one side has her work schedule for the month on it, and the other has the days and classes she takes at the gym."

"The whole month? You guys know your schedule a month ahead of time?"

"Don't you?"

"Well yeah," he replied suddenly feeling stupid. "I mean, sorta. We know our game schedule for the whole season, but we're still pretty much week to week on the other stuff. It's not all travel and practices you know."

"I do know, Peter lived with my family, remember?"

"Right. So how did you get the information so fast? You didn't ask Lacy for it did you? She doesn't know I was the one who wanted it does she?"

Shannon lifted her hand and made a lowering motion with it, "slow down there Romeo. I asked one of her friends about her gym habits, told her I was looking to switch and just wanted to see a friendly face. As for her schedule, I lifted it from the main computer." She said with another shrug of those massive shoulders.

Donovan let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks. Hope your brother likes those tickets."

"Oh, I'm sure he will. By the way, what'd they set you back? Just curious," she said as he narrowed his eyes at her slightly.

His voice, however, was more easy going as he said, "not much, cashed in on a couple of favors. You know, like when one of the guys in the office wants an autograph for a family member or wants me to show up at their kid's birthday party. Someone always owes me a favor."

Shannon looked at him incredulously, "damn, you mean I could've had you actually attend his party? God, he would've loved that."

"Too late now," Donovan said with a smirk. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, see you around," he continued as he stood and turned to leave.

Shannon gave a brief wave and gathering her stuff walked out the door on the opposite side of the coffee shop.

Pulling out the piece of paper and looking it over once he was back in his SUV, he saw that Lacy had the next two days off and then worked the three after that straight from seven in the morning to seven at night. All weekend. It pretty much went that way for the whole month, two on one off, three on two off.

As for her gym schedule, she took a yoga class at 5:30 in the morning on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, a spinning class at the same time on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and according to this, she jogged at home on Sundays.

Who knew a gym offered these kinds of classes that early in the morning? He probably should have figured it, though, they were twenty-four hours and catered to a mostly high-end clientele. Since he was right down the street and had some time, Donovan figured he'd scope out the joint, maybe buy a membership and get the grand tour.

Sure he'd been there a couple of times now to work with Tom, but he'd only been in that one room, hadn't even showered there, well except that one time. But his guest pass was limited, he hadn't paid for the full package, just a personal training session so that he could see Tom.

Donovan spent the next half hour wandering around the facilities as a cute little blonde girl gave him a tour and explained to him the company's mission statement. She had started by telling him she was a big fan of his, so Donovan took advantage of the opportunity and got her to give him a slightly more in depth tour than the average Joe would have gotten. He finished by asking for a full listing of all the classes and their schedules, which she gladly handed over while batting her eyelashes and flirting none too subtly.

She was cute, but she wasn't his type. Too short, and way too skinny. If he had to guess, either the girl didn't eat, or she purged herself afterward. Probably not the best person to work at the welcome desk of a gym, might give the wrong impression to some of the female clients, but who was he to judge really? Not his gym, not his problem. He was polite to her anyways and thanked her for her time after paying for a one-year membership.

Studying the classes and their schedules he noted that yoga classes ran three days a week, at half-hour intervals throughout the day starting at 4:00 am and finishing at 10:00 pm, there were two instructors, a man named Ryan and a woman named Cindy. Ryan's first class was at 4:00 am and his last was at 1:00 pm when Cindy took over, all three days. As for spinning, there were four instructors, and classes were an hour long starting at 4:30 and ending at 7:30, they ran every day of the week.

While Donovan didn't think he'd being joining either of those classes as a means to bump into Lacy, it was still nice to know the schedules.

Just in case.

Today was Tuesday, and since it was almost evening, Lacy had obviously already hit this gym, but tomorrow, well, tomorrow morning she had a 5:30 yoga class with Ryan. Maybe he'd come in and do a little cardio, he did have a membership now after all. Or he could see if Tom would be there.

Either way, Donovan didn't want to make it too obvious, so he probably wouldn't go to the gym every day, but at least once a week he'd attempt to run into her, either at the beginning or the end of her workout. Heck, it was early enough, so he shouldn't have any problems with this interfering with his own personal schedule, so yeah, he'd make it a point to catch her just often enough to annoy her, at least until she agreed to go out with him.

And since she went there every day it made things that much easier for him. Donovan was supposed to travel with the team this weekend for an away game vs. Toronto on Friday, even though he wouldn't dress, and after that, next week, he'd likely be back in the lineup by the end of it. Or at least he hoped. Coach had said he might keep him out the full six weeks. So it was definitely a good thing that she was predictable, flexible even.

As he arrived home, Donovan ran a few thoughts and ideas through his head, trying to figure out the best way to approach her, how to convince her to go out with him. He didn't want to sound desperate, but there had to be a certain degree of, well, something in his voice when he spoke to her. Longing maybe? Nah, Lacy would just eat that right up. Maybe disinterest? A little reverse psychology? He'd have to think it over.

Of course, once he walked through the door and heard Steve yelling at the newest nurse he'd had to hire after the last one quit, Steve was hitting on her just a little too much, Donovan knew he wasn't going to get any peace and quiet here. How was a guy supposed to think? With that thought, he backed out of the door before Steve found out he was home and drove to the nearest park. Sitting on a bench and watching as people walked by, pushing strollers or walking dogs, Donovan thought long and hard about Lacy Johnson.

How did one get through to a girl like her? There had to be something, some way he could get her attention and convince her to just give him a chance. He didn't think he was asking for too much, was he? She was just a woman, after all, not a monster, surely Shannon had been wrong on that front. He just couldn't picture Lacy, with those big green eyes and prickly attitude chewing up a man and spitting him out. She was just too honest. Verbally she might tear into a man, but on an emotional level? Nah. With her venomous attitude though, how did a man even get close enough to be "eaten" by Lacy Johnson? He didn't know, but come tomorrow, he'd find out.

Lacy went to her early morning yoga class the next day as usual. She had today and tomorrow off, but it didn't stop her from sticking to her schedule. As the day wore on, Ryan's classes would be fuller and likely closed to anyone else. No, Lacy preferred it when the class was at the very least half empty, even at 5:30 though his class had plenty of people in it. And while some men took the yoga class as well, if they weren't gay they usually took it with Cindy, Ryan's business partner. Most people didn't know it, but they actually had their own studio in a little place down near Jacksonville.

They probably made more than enough money there, where they worked Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, but they both seemed pretty flamboyant, at least to Lacy, and therefore they most likely lived extravagant lifestyles. Ryan was all business when he came to class, though, and while the women that batted their overly made up eyelashes at him were, well, barking up the wrong tree, the men, the obviously gay ones, were usually ignored as well.

Even the really hot and obviously gay ones. Cindy however, well, Lacy had only taken her class once, and noticed that Cindy had her war paint on, small masses of jewelry and was always flirting with the guys in her class.

Very unprofessional.

Cindy was a decent enough looking woman, all except her face, Lacy thought to herself. Which was completely true. While Ryan was hot hot hot in pretty much every aspect, Cindy had a body that just didn't go with her face.

She was all curves and taut muscles, but she over bleached her hair, under-plucked her eyebrows -which only worked for a small population of women- her ears stuck out and were pointed like an elves' at the top, and the girl had acne, bad. With all the money she made she should have done something about her acne, instead, she just caked on more makeup, continuously clogging her pores.

After that one class, and Cindy's pathetic display, although really, the guys didn't care much about her face anyway, they were too busy looking at her ass, Lacy had decided she'd stick to Ryan's classes. He was much more professional, not to mention better looking. It's a shame he's gay, Lacy reminded herself as she stretched into the downward dog and noticed the way his glutes strained against the pressure.

She could just eat him up. Lacy shook her head and concentrated on her workout. After switching to her first daytime shift at the hospital for the month she had some muscles that needed a little extra attention. They were definitely busier during the day than they were at night. One of the drawbacks she supposed. Another six months or so and it wouldn't matter, she thought as she twisted herself into the next position.

She figured once she'd given the hospital a couple of years she'd make an attempt to get a job in private practice. Of course, it wasn't just the hours that appealed to her, nine to five certainly sounded great, but well, she knew they paid a little better too, and of course, less sick people, or at least in severity. All that blood, sometimes it got to her. That thick metallic smell was enough to turn just about anyone's stomach if they had to smell it often enough.

Once the class had finished and Lacy rolled up her yoga mat, tucking it into her locker, she took a quick shower, said her goodbyes to Tina, who had to work today, and she headed over to the smoothie bar. Looking over the menu, she contemplated whether or not she actually wanted one, then decided against it and headed for the door.

"Lacy?"

Startled by the masculine voice that called to her from behind, Lacy did her best to hide her annoyance and turned to face her pursuer.

Oh great, it was Donovan Pierce.

"Are you stalking me?" She sneered upon his approach.

Donovan laughed, one side of his mouth cocking upwards in that way he had about him and his eyes crinkling at the corners. The effect was devastating to Lacy's senses.

"What? Stalking you? No. That's absurd. I'm here for a physical therapy session."

Gaining her wits about her, Lacy continued her interrogation. "Don't you have like, your own personal team of doctors or something? Why would you need to come here?"

Donovan's reply seemed to come easily enough, or so he hoped. He didn't want to give himself away. "Tom is one of our trainers. He's trying to earn a little extra cash so he's been taking clients here. I came here to get in an extra session with him."

Baffled by his quick response, but still not sold Lacy nearly stumbled as she went on, "wait, don't you guys pay him enough? I mean, it's the NHL. Why would he need to work here?"

Donovan shrugged, "do you have any idea how much it costs to go to Harvard Lacy?"

"No."

"Neither do I, but his kid just got in, so he needs more than he's making I guess."

Noticing the ease with which he had shrugged, Lacy changed tact's, "I'm not a physical therapist or anything, but your shoulder seems to be fine to me."

That laugh again, God, the sound was like heated silk rubbing over her skin. Smooth and warm. Lacy prepared to bolt, much more of this and she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold herself together.

"I'm making progress, but the timeline hasn't changed."

Lacy eyed him suspiciously, one brow lifting slightly, "you rehearse that for the press?"

Smirking this time, Donovan had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? Especially when she looked at you like that. "Something like that I guess. Do you want to go get some coffee?"

Huh? Lacy had to keep her head from reeling.

"What is it with you?" she heard herself saying. "Why do you keep asking me out?"

"Easy," he replied, "because you keep turning me down."

Well, that one got her. Lacy caught herself before her mouth curved into a smile. Shaking her head, she looked at him skeptically. "So what if I say yes? Will you leave me alone?"

Donovan nodded, "maybe, probably. Only one way to find out."

Lacy considered that for a second. What was the harm really? It was just a cup of coffee, and she could always leave whenever she'd had enough of him.

As if one could ever get enough of a guy like Donovan.

Whoa. Slow down there, Lacy. This guy is trouble. She told herself, trying to remind her raging hormones. He's Derek all over again.

"Fine," she said after another minute. "I'll let you buy me a cup of coffee. But just this once. Then you leave me alone. Deal?"

Donovan let loose with one of those smiles again, though this one was slightly different. It was even more destructive, totally obliterating her resolve, if that were even possible.

"Lead the way," he said, holding the door open for her.

### Chapter 8

Why are you such a Bitch?

As they walked into The Coffee Fox, Donovan noticed a few heads turn his way and a couple of murmurs where he thought he had heard his name mentioned, but if anyone had recognized him, no one had considered bothering him. Which was just fine with him. Not that he really minded signing autographs, it came with the territory, but he was finally alone with Lacy, and he wanted to spend what time with her he had getting to know her.

She simply fascinated him.

Lacy ordered a couple of drinks, thrusting one into Donovan's hand, "try this, you'll like it." She said before walking to a nearby table, leaving him to pay for them. Donovan chuckled to himself, but paid the bill and after blowing on it, took a drink.

Sweet, was his first thought. But bitter too. She had good taste. "What is this?" he asked pulling out a seat across from her and sitting down.

Lacy just stared at him, blinking.

"Alright, don't tell me."

"I won't."

Donovan laughed, the sound, a low rumble, rich and hearty as it was, caused a ripple of sheer pleasure to trickle down Lacy's spine. She shivered.

Crossing one leg over the other, she studied him. She had been correct about his hair she realized, giving him a thorough once over. Although he probably had a slight widow's peak if he slicked it back, let loose the way it was, it was curly and a bit shaggy. The color a rich dark blonde. She wondered what it would feel like between her fingers. Digging them into those thick curls and running her nails lightly along his scalp.

Oh God, she was doing it again. Stop it, Lacy! She scolded herself.

As she continued to absorb his features, committing them to memory, though why she couldn't have said, she hoped he couldn't read her thoughts, afraid they might have been written all over her face.

Those eyes, she decided, those eyes could see right into the soul. She'd never seen such a color, it was hard to say if they were more blue, or green, though she supposed the light had something to do with it. And if she was right, Donovan could see right past the walls she had so painstakingly worked to build.

And that mouth, full and sensuous, yeah, if she let herself, she could imagine what it would be like to kiss that mouth. Just like all the other women have Lacy! She'd just bet he was a good kisser; he'd had plenty of practice hadn't he?

Donovan watched her, his serene face not betraying the amusement he felt as he noticed the way her pupils contracted while she studied his features. He had a good poker face, had to in his line of work. Couldn't let the press get a whiff of emotion when talking to them. So while they sat there across from each other, Lacy sizing him up, he silently took pleasure in what her face so easily gave away of her thoughts and emotions.

She was as dazzled as he was by what she saw. So why all the walls? Why the reputation?

"Why do you try so hard to be such a bitch?" Donovan inquired, finally breaking the silence, and regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Lacy blinked. Once, twice, three times before the trance was broken and she was able to comprehend what he had just asked.

"You think I'm a bitch?" She asked sweetly.

Donovan shrugged. "Not really, I think you try to make people think you are one, though. Especially men. Why is that?"

Lacy stood, "this conversation is over. Thanks for the coffee."

He hadn't expected that. So he'd been right, it was all an act. And either she hadn't, or wouldn't face that knowledge yet. Either way, he'd gotten too close, and she was running scared. Donovan stood and after throwing out his coffee, he quickly walked after her as she left the coffee shop and headed down the sidewalk.

Grabbing her arm lightly, he stopped her and forced her to meet his gaze. "Hey, I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have said that. Please, don't leave like this."

Lacy tried to be angry with him, but he'd hit too close to home. Emotion was boiling up to the surface, and it stung the backs of her eyes. She ripped her arm out of his grasp, determined not to let him see just how close he'd come to the truth. "Let go of me!" she shouted under her breath.

Donovan dropped his hands to his side. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry? You called me a bitch!" she snapped, whirling on him in anger. Whatever it took to hold back the pain.

Backing up a step Donovan held his hands up, palms facing her, "and I said I was sorry. You don't have to bite my head off Lacy. I didn't act this way when you called me a baby last time did I?"

You're over reacting Lacy. She told herself, taking a calming breath. Stop this or he's going to know how close he was. "You're right," she said, calmer now after talking herself down. "I guess I just don't like being called a bitch. What woman does?"

"Fair enough." Donovan agreed although he wasn't convinced. He was right about Lacy, and she'd just confirmed it. Someone had hurt her, badly. He was sure of it. "How about we go for a walk?" He suggested in sincerity.

Lacy shook her head. "No," she said.

"Then let me walk you to your car at least. Please?"

"Fine." He wasn't going to leave her alone, so she resigned herself to at least that much.

Donovan took her elbow again, gently leading her in the opposite direction of where she had parked

"This isn't the way to my car," she protested, trying to dig in her heels as he pulled her along.

"We'll take the long way."

She eyed him warily for a minute, then decided it was easier not to fight him. Using her free hand to loosen his grip and pull away, she nodded and followed beside him.

After a few minutes of silence, in which both looked off in different directions, Donovan led her with his body, blocking her from walking in a straight path any longer, over to a bench and gestured with his hand, "care to sit down for a couple of minutes?"

Her eyes narrowing to little slits again, Lacy figured, what the hell, shrugged and sat down. Crossing her legs as Donovan sat down at the other end of the bench and turned to face her.

"What's your natural hair color?" He asked, throwing her off guard a little.

"Blonde, but it's kind of a dishwater blonde, dull, ugly."

He chuckled. Donovan doubted that anything about Lacy could be ugly. But he was intrigued nonetheless, and wanted to know more. "Tell me about yourself." He said nonchalantly, as if what had transpired between them only a few minutes ago hadn't happened at all.

"I'd rather not." She retorted, getting her wits about herself again.

He laughed, "okay, then I'll tell you about me." When she didn't object, he continued. "I was born in Canada. A town called Thunder Bay, not too far north of Minnesota. My parents still live there, and I have a little brother, Todd, he's a junior in high school. I've always played hockey for as long as I can remember, and I was drafted just after graduation, not yet eighteen. My birthday's in July, the tenth, and I'll be twenty-eight this year."

Lacy took it all in, some she knew from her time searching him on the internet, but most of it was new information, and she couldn't say why, but it piqued her interest in ways she wouldn't admit.

"I like dogs, though, I don't have any, my mother's allergic to them so we didn't have one growing up either, and I just don't have the time for one now. I'd like to someday, though. Maybe a Great Dane, or a Doberman. Something big. And I like the color green, like your eyes, you have the most beautiful eyes, Lacy."

Lacy blushed.

Donovan reached a hand towards her, running a finger along her cheek. She gasped as he made contact, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, but she didn't pull away. Why wasn't she pulling away? Because you're an idiot, that's why!

Donovan sensed the change in her, could feel her response as her skin tingled and goosebumps lined her arms. He laughed, more to himself than anything, a whisper really, and then he pulled away. Putting his hand back in his lap he looked at her. Watched as her eyes lost that glassiness. As she pulled her mask back in place.

"What about you Lacy?" He prodded again, his voice gentle. "Tell me about yourself."

Shaking her head to clear the fog, Lacy brought herself back to reality, and sighed. "Fine, you win. I grew up in Orange Park, that's in Florida, just south of Jacksonville. I always wanted to be a nurse, I love helping people. I moved here seven years ago with my mother, stepfather, and little sister. I attended South University, and I've been working at the hospital for almost three years now. I plan on going into private practice, orthopedics, or maybe family medicine. I'm not sure."

"Ever consider sports medicine?" he asked, completely fascinated by what she had, and hadn't said. Like the fact that she had a stepfather, but hadn't mentioned her biological father. Maybe the cause of her inner turmoil?

Lacy shook her head, "no," she said. "I'm not into sports."

"You don't have to like sports to be in sports medicine, Lacy. It pays better though you know? Or maybe you don't," he went on when she looked at him oddly.

A thought occurred to Lacy then, and maybe she should have stayed far far away from it, but for some reason, one she couldn't pinpoint, she took it and ran with it instead. "When's your next home game?"

"Monday." He said, cocking his head to the side. "Why?"

"Are you playing?"

"Probably not."

"Would you take me if you aren't?"

Wow. Where had that come from? It was almost as if Lacy had just done a complete one-eighty. She went from bitch and uninterested to cowed and asking him to take her to a game. Maybe he should touch her more often. Briefly looking down at his hands, appearing as though he had to think it over, he finally looked up at her again.

Was that fear he saw in her eyes? What was she afraid of? Him? Rejection maybe? Damn, just when he thought he was on the right track she threw him off the scent. Lacy was covered in layers. Layers he was determined to pull back, one by one if he had to.

"Sure, I'll take you."

Lacy nodded, and reaching into her purse, she pulled out her phone, "what's your phone number?" she asked, seemingly more in control of her emotions than she had been a few seconds ago.

Another mask, another layer. He thought to himself, but rattled off his phone number. "I'll be out of town this weekend, got a game on Friday in Minnesota, and I'll stop off and see my parents while I'm in the area. But you can call anytime."

Lacy stood, putting the phone back in her purse -more of a black bag really, with a little stitched on emoji face- and pulling the strap high on her shoulder. "I won't." She said turning to leave.

Donovan stood in an attempt to follow her, but she put her hand out in front of her to stop him, "I can make it to my car from here, thanks.

"Alright then," he said with a nod, she had that wall in place again. "When should I expect to hear from you?"

"I have Monday off, so probably then. Maybe after my yoga class, I assume I won't be running into you again?"

Shaking his head, Donovan managed not to laugh again, she was a quick one for sure. "I'll have practice on Monday, whether I play or not."

"And you're sure you won't be playing? I wouldn't want you to miss your debut." She teased.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Donovan watched the brief flicker of alarm come into her eyes, they sparkled like emeralds in the sunlight. Glinting brightly behind her dark rimmed glasses.

Oh my God, is he going to kiss me? She gulped, almost audibly.

He wanted to kiss her. She looked so vulnerable, like she had when he'd touched her face. So this was how she looked when her barriers were breached? Amazing. He could see the question in her eyes, was he, or wasn't he going to kiss her?

He didn't.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," he said, pulling away. "But Coach wants to wait the full six weeks. So no, I won't be playing."

Relief washed over her once his hand slipped away from her shoulder, did that man have any idea what he did to her? God, she hoped not! It seemed that all he had to do was a lay a hand on her, and she was putty, waiting to be plied into whatever shape he had in mind.

"Why shouldn't you tell me that?" She asked as she regained the last of her composer.

"If the press got wind of it, there'd be all sorts of questions. It's supposed to stay between me, the medical staff, and Coach." He answered, he wanted to touch her again, but she had pulled further away, and not just physically. He'd given her something else less tangible to latch onto, and so she had.

"Your secret's safe with me," she reassured him, looking back over her shoulder as she began to walk away. "See you Monday."

Would there come a time when she wouldn't do that? Walk away from him like she couldn't move fast enough? He didn't know. He had made progress, though, she'd talked to him, and for more than just a couple of minutes this time. And they were going on a date. Well, he'd like to think of it that way. He didn't know what it was to her.

Or why for that matter she had suggested it. What was her sudden interest? Mentally he shrugged it off, whatever her reasons she was going to be in close quarters with him for at least a couple of hours. And after that? Who knew. Progress, it was progress.

As Lacy got behind the wheel of her car, she gave herself a couple of minutes to pull it together. Breathing deeply, she began to question herself and her motives. Her sanity even.

What had happened back there? Why had she asked him to take her to a game? They hadn't even been talking about hockey! And he sure as hell hadn't asked her on a date! Though he probably would have gotten around to it. Not that this was a date. Was it? No. No, it was not a date.

Oh great, it was a date. She had done something utterly stupid and asked Donovan Pierce on a date! What the hell had she been thinking? Ha! Clearly, she hadn't been, that was the problem! It was the way he had touched her. Had to have been. But lots of guys had touched Lacy, okay, maybe not lots of guys but enough, why was he so different then?

Lacy couldn't ever remember feeling that way when a man had put his hands on her. Not even with Derek! And she'd had enough partners to know what passion felt like. This was something else. Something no man had ever made her feel. And maybe she just wanted to explore it, what was the harm in that?

You know what the harm in that is Lacy! Don't be so naive! She couldn't really believe all that stuff she read in the tabloids though could she? Yes! And what about Amie? You saw her in his room not three weeks ago! Lacy shook her head, getting angry at her voice of reason.

If a man didn't talk about a woman to another woman, especially when he was openly pursuing the latter, then she obviously didn't mean that much to him. And really, how could Lacy be so sure that he had ever even really been dating Amie, to begin with? She couldn't. Celebrities were often accused of cheating, or said to be dating this person or that, but that didn't make it true.

And since she'd read all that stuff about hockey the other day, she was interested. So why not kill two birds with one stone? Allow herself the chance to head Donovan off at the pass, ask him out on a date, controlling how it all went down, and check out the sport that Shelly and Doctor Jonas were always going on and on about. Besides, this way she didn't have to pay for the tickets.

No doubt they were expensive, even for the nosebleed section after all the fees and what not, and she'd bet Donovan could get them some really good seats too! Probably even take her back into the locker room if she wanted to go! Wouldn't that be something worth bragging about?

Yeah, her plan was foolproof. They'd be in a VERY public venue where he couldn't possibly put the moves on her, and she'd get to see first hand what hockey was all about while she got Donovan out of her system and off her back. Lacy was a genius.

Of course, she was counting on things to go her way. As if that could ever happen in the company of a man as sinfully delicious looking as Donovan Pierce.

The weekend had come and gone before Donovan had even realized it. After the game on Friday, for which he didn't dress but did sit on the bench, Donovan made the short trip to his parent's place. It had been good to be home. He often made the trip for the holidays when he was able to, but other than a few weeks during the offseason, he really didn't get to go home that much anymore. He was sincerely considering putting his house there on the market. Or else lend its use to Steve for a little bit while he got back on his feet.

Things certainly weren't working out having him stay at his place any longer. In fact, by the time his flight got in early Sunday evening, he had resigned himself to that decision. He'd talk to Steve about it that night and suggest he make the move as soon as possible. He had better health care up there and would be close to Donovan's mother, who would surely dote on him.

He could stay at his place as long as he wanted to, there wasn't a mortgage on the place, so it really didn't cost Donovan much to maintain it, and once Steve got a job, surely Donovan could get him one at the local rink up there, Steve could take over the utilities, the place could be his so to speak.

He rehearsed it that way over and over, and as soon as he made it home to discover Steve passed out on the couch in the media room, with a bowl of popcorn all over the floor, and orange streaks ,probably from Cheetos, all over the leather couch, Donovan had to steel himself to sound pleasant as they had the conversation.

Steve, again being Steve, accepted readily, and after a shower -which took some time with the cast still on- he hobbled off to the guest room to pack, leaving Donovan to clean up his mess. Which he did, but not before booking Steve the earliest available flight back to Canada for the next morning. First class at that. Whatever it took to make him disappear.

Donovan saw him off the next day, practically shoving him through security, and got to work cleaning his condo -floor to ceiling- Steve was a pig after all, and Donovan was surprised he hadn't gotten roaches. He couldn't begrudge the fact that he'd invited Steve down any longer though, he wouldn't have met Lacy otherwise, -though he still had a lot of work to do in that department- but he wouldn't make that mistake again anytime soon.

Once he was satisfied with the results, Donovan took himself a long hot shower, nearly missing Lacy's call in the process.

"Hello?" he said a bit breathlessly into the receive, having dashed out of the shower upon hearing it ring.

"What time does the game start?" Lacy asked.

No hi, how you doing? Just right to the point. He should have figured that.

"Seven."

"Fine, I'll meet you out front at six-thirty."

She hung up. She didn't even give Donovan the chance to tell her there was a back entrance to the stadium, where he and the rest of the staff and players parked. And of course, when he looked at the call log, he wasn't surprised to see she had blocked her number.

All those layers, he thought to himself.

### Chapter 9

The Game

In his present condition, not dressing for the game again, although he'd at least been told he would for the next one on Wednesday when the team flew to St Louis to take on the Blues, Donovan decided it would be best if he didn't meet Lacy out front. Too many fans, too many questions. But since she didn't have tickets, he sent his agent out to meet her and bring her inside.

Armed with a description, Jack begrudgingly agreed and within ten minutes walked into the family section with Lacy at his side.

He smiled, and she scowled. Clearly not pleased by his decision to send Jack in his stead.

"Why did you send your agent to get me?" she demanded as he led her to their seats. A club section which was reserved for family and guests of players, thus Donovan wouldn't be disturbed, he knew pretty much everyone up here and saw them on a regular basis.

"Seriously? I was going to tell you this morning to come in the back way, but you hung up. I can't just walk out the front doors unnoticed Lacy. Or didn't you realize that? Did you really want to see your picture in those tabloids you like so much?"

Embarrassed since she hadn't thought of that, Lacy could feel the heat steal into her cheeks. "I didn't think about that. Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," he said with a pleasant smile, one that set her nerves on edge. "So, I know this is your first live game, but have you ever watched on TV?" He asked moving right along.

Lacy shook her head, "nope."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Nope." She said again.

Donovan's eyebrows rose unconsciously, "let me know if you do. The game's about to start."

For the next hour, Lacy's eyes were glued to the ice. She did, however, manage to pelt Donovan with a couple of questions as the first period wore on.

"What's icing? And why do they stop the clock?"

"Because he, Dean, shot the puck up the ice without one of our players being in the vicinity, you can't do that. So the clock stops and they bring the puck back in our zone. Now if Dean had made it there before the other player, they would have waved it off."

Another whistle, another play blown dead.

"Why is it offsides?" she asked.

"He crossed the blue line before the puck."

Just as Lacy accepted his answer there was a penalty called on one of the defenders from the other team.

"What happened? I don't get it." Lacy said, turning to Donovan with questioning eyes.

"High-sticking," he replied, placing his hand over hers. When she didn't pull away, he continued with his answer. "The guy hit Peter in the face with his stick, that's a no-no. So he goes to the penalty box for two minutes and the Slashers get to play five on four."

"What happens if they commit another penalty? And what happens if you score?"

"We'd get a five on three. And if we committed one, it'd be a four on four, and then they'd have a five on four once their penalty was over. If we score, it's over and their guy comes back out."

"That's confusing."

Stroking his thumb along the inside of her palm as he linked their hands together, Donovan laughed, "not really. You just have to know the rules. I guess it takes a little getting used to, though."

Once Lacy realized what he was doing, her smile faded, and she gently pulled her hand away. It felt good, God had it felt good. But she couldn't let him do that. She couldn't let him manipulate her and take control of the situation. She was in charge here.

Just then, Dean scored in the final ten seconds of the power play, and before he could question why she had taken her hand away, Donovan found himself standing up and cheering with the rest of the people in the section. To his surprise, Lacy stood beside him and shouted too. Cupping her hands around her mouth and really letting loose.

It stole his breath away to see the smile that lit her face afterward. The way it went clear to her eyes, where they sparkled like precious gems. It took all his willpower not to grab her and kiss her then and there.

Instead, once she turned to face him fully, he held up his palm and slapped her a high five.

As the period ended, neither team scoring again, Donovan leaned in so that she could hear him through the noise in the room. "I need to head down to the locker rooms, can I get you anything on my way back?"

Lacy shook her head, "I'll be alright."

He was about to ask her if she wanted to go with him, but thought better of it. He needed the few minutes to himself, needed to get his urges under control.

Once Donovan was out of sight, Lacy let out the breath that she had been holding. Not only was hockey way more exciting than she had ever thought possible, she was having a great time with Donovan. At least until he had grabbed her hand.

She needed to find a way to get a hold of herself. The feel of his hand on hers, the heat of his palm, and the way his calloused thumb had stroked her was enough to make her want to drop her guards around him. And she certainly couldn't do that. If anything she needed to be MORE on guard around Donovan.

She hadn't realized just how dangerous this man was. All he had to do was touch her, no matter how innocently it was, and she wanted to melt. What was the matter with her?

It was then while she questioned her weakening resolve that she noticed out of the corner of her eyes, that a gorgeous redhead was watching her. No, scratch that, was heading in her direction.

She was tall, though not as tall as Lacy, her hair was long and wavy, and several different shades of copper and crimson, and her eyes, they were a vibrant and startling color of blue. There was so much life in them too, she noticed.

The woman smiled, a genuine smile at that, not just the polite variety that you gave to strangers, as she held out her hand to Lacy. "Hi, I'm Abby, Dean's fiancé. You're here with Donovan right?"

"Lacy," she said, shaking her hand. "And yeah, I guess I am."

Abby laughed, it was smooth and kind of smoky. Put the package altogether, and Lacy could see why a man like Dean had fallen for Abby. She didn't know much about Dean, other than the few mentions of him in the articles she'd read about Donovan, but she had run across a picture or two of him, and boy oh boy, the man was eye candy if ever there was any.

In most ways, though, Lacy found that she much preferred Donovan and his boyish looks to that of Deans masculine features. Not to detract anything from Dean, of course, maybe it was just because she actually knew, er, was getting to know Donovan.

"He's something isn't he?" Abby was saying, drawing Lacy's attention back to her.

"He sure is."

"Don't let that cockiness of his fool you though Lacy, I've been around these men a lot over the past couple of months, and if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that Donovan's a great guy, and he has a really big heart."

Lacy smiled, but inside she was still skeptical. "Is it hard?" she found herself asking.

Abby looked at her with confusion, "I'm sorry, is what hard?"

"Being with Dean, I mean, his schedule and all?"

"Not at all." Her smile was back, and as she took a seat next to Lacy she continued, "at first, it took a little bit of juggling. I mean, he travels a lot, and my job, I'm a publicist for an animal shelter here in Savannah, so I was used to staying put, working in an office and all that. But I realized I didn't have to, not all the time anyways. So I pick and choose what games I want to go to. Mostly... all the home games, and at least two or three away games each month. We have a couple of dogs, though, so I try to limit it to three, that way they don't have to stay at my mother's all the time. Not that she minds of course."

"So you aren't like, afraid of him cheating on you or anything while he's away?"

Truly taken aback, it took Abby a minute to respond to that. "No," she said without even the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice. "I know it happens, with some of the guys in the league. Probably more than most are willing to admit, but I trust Dean. I know what we have, and he knows it too. He would never do that to me. To us."

"But how do you know?" Lacy asked pushing her luck.

"I guess... I don't. I just have to trust him. And I do." Abby affirmed.

She was so sure of the love between her Dean, and as it turned out, Lacy believed her. She could feel that love, and the hope that went with it, emanating off this beautiful woman in waves.

There was so much happiness here.

"I read about your engagement, saw the video even. When's the wedding?" Lacy inquired, changing the subject.

"Saint Patrick's Day," Abby said enthusiastically, as she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear.

"That's a Thursday right?"

"Next Thursday, yes."

"Interesting," Lacy remarked, looking towards the door. She could have sworn she'd just heard Donovan laughing.

Following her gaze, Abby noticed the change in the woman's expression, Lacy had it bad and she wondered if Donovan knew.

Standing, and touching her shoulder to gain her attention, Abby said: "The second period is about to begin, it was so nice meeting you, though. I hope I see you again."

And she meant it, Lacy thought as she watched Donovan enter the room, his agent's arm looped around his shoulders, the two laughing like hyenas. When his gaze landed on hers, Lacy's stomach did a little flip.

Donovan knew the instant when Lacy's eyes were upon him, he could feel her watching him without even looking in her direction. His body seemed to be buzzing with energy, and when he finally met her open stare, the breath caught in his lungs.

She and Abby had obviously just been talking, as he noticed her walking away from Lacy in the direction of her own seat. But it was the look on Lacy's face that really did it. Her expression was vulnerable, as if all her walls were down. It was one of those rare moments where he felt like he had a window into her soul.

And what a caring and compassionate soul this woman had! Lacy was a remarkably passionate woman, but he'd almost bet she didn't realize that about herself. Maybe it wasn't all an act, at least part of it was, but perhaps the rest was more of a defense mechanism than anything, there was a chance she wasn't even aware of doing it.

Donovan knew he had to be careful, he didn't want her to throw those walls back into place again.

"Sorry about that," he said, "Coach didn't mind me not sitting on the bench tonight, so long as I go to the locker room during intermission."

Lacy nodded, and he could sense the slow change in her as she was piling on those layers again. Obviously, there was nothing he could do to stop her. But he wondered what had left her so unguarded, to begin with.

"What were you and Abby talking about?"

"You."

"Oh."

Lacy smirked, "she seems to think you're a pretty good guy. Obviously, you brainwashed her."

There was that sassy mouth he liked so much. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he joked, leaning in a little and picking up a hint of her perfume as it wafted in his direction.

Big mistake.

She smelled different tonight, usually, all he got was a light soapy smell, since the few times he'd run into her had been at the gym and she'd just showered. But tonight, tonight she smelled exotic. Sensual even. And as the scent caught in his nostrils and swirled around until it clouded all his senses, Donovan knew he was in trouble.

Gulping, he pulled himself back and tried to focus on the game instead. The linesman had just dropped the puck and the Slashers were off to the races.

What was that all about? Lacy wondered as she too turned to watch the game below. Donovan had on one of those arrogant grins of his one minute and the next, he'd almost looked, terrified.

Lacy didn't have much time to ponder that thought, however, as the Slashers must have had their asses handed to them during intermission. Because they scored almost immediately off the puck drop.

Andre Lepowski shot the puck down the ice, crossing the blue line just behind it and swinging around behind the net for a wraparound attempt. It didn't jibe, but Peter Petrovic was right there to snag the puck off the rebound shooting it past the goalie's glove hand and into the net.

The crowd went wild, Donovan stood, shouting and cheering he grabbed Lacy and hugged her so tightly he lifted her feet off the floor. Gasping for breath she cheered along with him, jumping up and down together as the horn sounded.

It wasn't until he left her side and walked over to talk to Abby that the full impact of their embrace hit her. Being up against him that way, feeling the expanse of his hard muscled chest, the heat that radiated from him, and the smell. Oh God, he smelled good! Had she thought she was in control? Really?

Coming back to her, a big shit-eating grin still on his face, Donovan looped an arm around her shoulder and guided her down into their seats. What a rush! He was so caught up in the action unfolding beneath them that he failed to notice the lack of reaction from Lacy, she hadn't made a move to push his arm away from her, but for some reason, that hadn't registered in his mind.

Touching her right now felt, natural. Normal even, like they did it all the time.

Lacy, on the other hand, was very aware of the contact between them, and while her instinct was to rebuff his advances, she couldn't seem to move. She didn't have the strength to pull away. Or maybe she just didn't want to. The feel of his strong capable arms around her felt a little sinful, and the warmth of his body was simply delicious.

The calm didn't last long, though, as the Slashers really lit up the opposition during the second period. They scored two more times, with plenty of "ooh" and "ahh" moments in between where they could have found the back of the net again.

Donovan left during intermission again, but Abby didn't come over this time. Which Lacy was more than a little glad for the respite. She needed to take a good look at herself. And fast. It wasn't just Donovan either. She was attracted to him, and could admit to herself, although part of her still didn't want to, that at some point they would probably end up sleeping together.

But this hockey thing, that was something different altogether. Growing up, she'd tried to get involved in sports. She was tall, so she'd given basketball a shot. It didn't take. Lacy had two left feet, and she was more than a little clumsy at times. So she hadn't even made the team. Obviously being tall hadn't mattered much, you still had to have some skills.

She'd tried soccer too, that was before she met Derek, but she wasn't fast enough. Long legs were great, but if you kept tripping over your own feet you didn't get very far. And cheerleading? Yeah right. So Lacy resigned herself to being athletically challenged and left it at that.

After meeting Derek, she tried a different approach. Watching. Derek wasn't bulky enough to play football, so he'd chosen soccer, but he still followed college and professional football religiously. Lacy just couldn't get into it, though. They had even gone to a Jaguars game, in which the team lost by a large margin, and that was the last time he ever asked her to watch a game with him again. Live or on TV. She'd sat there like a lump, more interested in picking the dirt out of her nails than what was happening on the field.

But really, who could blame her? When your team is trailing thirty to three, what's the point? They weren't old enough to drink, so it wasn't like they could get drunk and act like all the other idiot fans. Maybe if they had been winning, or had at least given a valiant effort, she might have been a little more interested.

And after Derek proceeded to berate her for her disinterest on the ride home, Lacy swore she'd never watch another sporting event. And she hadn't, until now. So why was she here? And did she really care that the Slashers were winning four to nothing and Dean was one goal away from having a hat trick?

Short answer: yeah, she cared. She was having more fun than she'd had in a long time. A really long time. She didn't think she'd like hockey when she'd initially asked Donovan to bring her. Because really, what was so great about watching that little puck bounce from one end to the other? The damned thing was hard to keep track of most of the time anyways! At least on TV, it was, not that she had ever watched a game on TV, it was more like the replays in the Yahoo! Sports articles. But hey, same thing, right?

Live action, that's what did it. Had to be. The crowd all into it, the noise, the smells, the company...no, she couldn't pin this on Donovan. He made it more fun perhaps than it would have been, but Lacy could admit she still would have had fun without him.

Now she understood the amount of skill it took to get that puck into the net. And she hadn't before. The way those guys seemed to float across the ice, tracking the puck, shooting it, or passing to a teammate who hadn't been there a second ago. It was like watching a dance, a well-choreographed one at that. She knew she'd never be able to do the things they did, hell, she probably wouldn't have been able to stay on her feet, let alone guide a puck down the ice without someone stealing it!

So tonight she had become a fan. Of hockey, and of the Slashers.

She wasn't about to admit that to Donovan though.

The third period found the Slashers settling down a little. Playing a more defensively minded game. The Avalanche finally scored, killing the shutout Francois had been working on, and Dean never did score that hat trick, but the Slashers still beat Colorado four to two in the end. And Lacy had a newfound respect for both the players and the game.

After the final buzzer sounded, Donovan turned to Lacy and grabbed her hand. "What do you say you come to the locker room with me? Meet some of the guys?"

Lacy looked at him a little nervously, she wasn't sure if it was the suggestion he had made, or the way his palm felt against hers that was doing it, but her heart began to pound excitedly.

"I can sneak you out the back afterward and drive you to your car if you want?" he continued.

Lacy finally managed a nod, and followed him, hand in hand down a set of stairs and into a corridor that would take them around the back of the arena to where the locker rooms were.

It was loud and full of chatter as they walked through the doors, the guys in various stages of undress. Some had their pads fully removed, others were just stripped to the waist, and a couple hadn't even taken off their skates yet. But while they made their way into the fray, Lacy blushed as all eyes landed on her, and the room grew quiet.

"Great game guys!" Donovan shouted, bringing forth a round of cheers from the other guys, and breaking the trance, they went back to what they had been doing.

The guys stole curious glances at the newcomer from time to time as Donovan walked her past them and over to where the coaching staff sat going over their clipboards, but the octave had risen again, and they resumed their previous conversations

Lacy was content, however, to remain close to Donovan, nearly pressing herself up against his side. Feeling her discomfort, he wrapped one arm around her, drawing those eyes in their direction again. But as the warmth of his body flooded her senses, she relaxed by a few degrees and listened while he talked to his coach.

Coach Turski was a powerful looking man, one that surely commanded the respect and attention of his charges. He looked rather young, though she would have put his age somewhere in his mid to upper forties, and he had pale blonde hair that was graying at the temples. A stark contrast to his deep-set hazel eyes, which seemed to look straight through you rather than at you. Like he could read your mind.

His voice was what really set him apart, though. It was a loud baritone, one that demanded you listen up. Which everyone did, quieting down as he went over the game, the adjustments they needed to make before they flew out to play St. Louis in a couple of days, and of course, congratulated them on a job well done. He also made the quick announcement that Donovan would be rejoining the lineup against the Blues, which sent everyone into another frenzy.

Guys were hooting and hollering, jumping up to slap him a high five or clap him on the shoulder and back. The camaraderie almost got to her. They were like a family, and while they were careful not to break the contact between Donovan and Lacy, everyone made it a point to show him some sort of affection.

After which Donovan led her around the room by the hand, practically dragging her and introducing her to some of the guys. He avoided most of what he called the "rookies" or some of the new guys on the team, but made it a point to stop by and show her off to their goalie, Francois Baudin, who was by all accounts unremarkable, but extremely warm and friendly.

Then he introduced her to Andre Lepowski, saying the young man with a mop of brown hair and acne was the next big thing, or at the very least, the best instigator they'd ever had, -she'd have to ask him what that meant when they were alone- before pulling her further down the line and shoving his shoulder into a baby-faced player who had the same shaggy blonde hair as Donovan but with big blue eyes to match, and telling her that: "this was Peter Petrovic, the best-damned defenseman in the eastern conference."

Finally, they made it to the end of the line where there was an empty stall, the locker room was open in the center, and flanked on both sides by a row of what they called "stalls" which were no more than open cubicles with benches and shelves, to which he said was his, and of course, next to it, none other than Dean Kirk, captain of the team. Who was currently preoccupied with his lovely fiancée as they lost themselves in a rather intimate embrace.

Donovan ruffled his hair, breaking the contact between he and Abby, and nearly shoved Lacy forward. "Dean, I'd like you to meet Lacy. Lacy, this is Dean, my best friend, and surely one of the best captains in the league."

"Oh? You mean there's someone better than Dean?" Lacy inquired, turning to look at Donovan as she shook Dean's hand.

"Unfortunately," Dean replied, regaining her attention.

Lacy looked at him blankly, as if waiting for the answer.

"Personally," Donovan said, figuring that Dean wasn't going to give it to her. "I think Dean here is the best. But ask any of the announcers, and you'll hear either Sidney Crosby or Jonathan Toews."

"Crosby," Dean scoffed. "Crosby's on a downward trend my friend, he's not even one of the best players in the league right now, let alone the best captain! Maybe top ten, for players that is, but even that's pushing it."

"Are you telling me you don't think Crosby's in the top five for best player in the NHL?" Donovan argued.

"Hell no! You have Kane, and Toews, and Ovechkin, and don't forget Benn and Seguin." He continued ticking off the names on his fingers.

"Really? Benn and Seguin? What about Panarin? And Stamkos?"

"Yeah, yeah, those guys too. See what I'm saying? And what about you Donovan? You were having a killer season before that injury! Surely you consider yourself a superior player over Crosby?"

Was that a blush Lacy saw? Watching these two go at it was fascinating, and even though she had no idea what they were talking about, she listened intently. She'd heard a few of those names before, but as for what team they played on, she was clueless.

Abby cut in then, "okay boys." She scolded. "So the NHL doesn't lack for talent this year, and you're both somewhere in the mix, top five? I think so, certainly top ten. Can we drop the subject now? You're giving me a headache with the way you two carry on like little school girls!"

Lacy had to cover her mouth to stop herself from bursting out laughing, the way Abby handled those two... Amazing! She had to give the woman credit, she probably would have just made an exit at some point and let them go at it until they wore each other out.

Both men looked at her in astonishment, then laughed, Dean pulling Abby close, giving her a rather noisy smooch.

"I love this woman!" he said to no one in particular, going in for another kiss as Abby blushed, red filling her cheeks to match her vibrant hair.

Donovan took that as their cue and led Lacy through the rest of the locker room, to include a state of the art gym and through the back door that opened to the parking lot.

Both of them still laughing, they made their way over to a black Escalade, where Donovan opened the passenger side door and helped her in.

The interior was leather, but comfortably broken in, and he had all the bells and whistles to go with it. A DVD player with Bluetooth and navigation, monitors in both sun visors, as well as the headrests, and multiple speakers. Clearly, a vehicle designed for travel and comfort, with no expense spared. Not that he needed to, the man made plenty of money in his occupation.

She was impressed nonetheless. And nearly told him so, only stopping once she noticed the look in his eyes as he watched her taking it all in.

He looked hungry and stared at her as though she were a juicy piece of meat.

Surely her eyes must have widened in shock, or perhaps fear, because in the next moment he was laughing.

Placing a hand on her knee, he tried to reassure her, "I don't bite Lacy. Not unless you want me to that is."

Which of course, only brought the fire back into her expression that he'd slowly grown to love. "There will be no biting tonight," she nearly gasped, regaining her senses, and pushing his hand off her leg.

Donovan laughed louder, the pleasant sound forcing her to concentrate on her hands as she twirled her fingers nervously. Taking the hint, however, Donovan turned the ignition and put the SUV into drive, pulling around the arena and following her directions as he drove towards where she had parked at the end of the front lot.

Once there, he kept the Escalade in gear, thus trapping her in the vehicle as the locks were still engaged. Looking over at her, he asked in a deep husky voice, one that drove her mad with want, "can I see you again Lacy?"

"You can put it in park Donovan, I promise not to bolt," she replied, ignoring his question.

"Alright," he said, shoving it into park and turning in his seat so he could see her better. "I had fun tonight, I hope you did too."

"I did." She readily agreed. Snubbing herself for sounding so excited in her response.

It wasn't lost on Donovan however, "you sound surprised," he chuckled.

"I am. I'll be honest, I didn't think I'd like hockey. But I do. And I didn't think I'd like being around you either."

"And now?"

"Don't push it." She said, trying to hide her smirk by turning and looking out the window.

Laughing lightly to himself, Donovan reached out a hand, placing his index finger under her chin and gently guiding her head back to him, "Lacy, you didn't answer my question earlier."

"And what was that?" she gulped.

"Can I see you again?"

She thought about it for a second, remembered her earlier realization that she'd end up in bed with Donovan at some point, and decided it might as well be sooner rather than later. So she reached into her purse and pulled out a marker, grabbing his arm and writing her phone number on the inside of his wrist.

"I'm off on Wednesday, how about dinner?" She said when she had finished.

Looking at the digits she'd scrawled on his arm and running his fingers gently over them, he shook his head, meeting her gaze again.

"We have a game in St Louis, and you heard the coach, I'm back in the lineup."

Lacy looked almost disappointed.

"Here's a crazy thought," he said, cutting into her dismay. "Why don't you come with me? We could fly out together when you get off work on Tuesday."

Shocked, Lacy was more than a little tempted to say yes. "You're right," she said, hopefully hiding the tumultuous emotions his suggestion had wrought. "That is crazy, and I can't"

"Why not? I'd pay for everything."

Lacy scoffed, "and what, I'm just supposed to fly out there and watch the game all by myself? That's nuts!"

"No, you'd be with the rest of team's family members, like tonight."

"I can't, I'm sorry Donovan, I just can't. What about Friday then? I have Saturday off, so I could do a late dinner on Friday."

"Can't, we have a game in Tennessee, then we play the Blues again, at home on Saturday."

"Wow," Lacy exclaimed, reaching for the door. "See, this is why I don't get involved with athletes."

"Lacy!" Donovan called after her, trying to grab her before she shut the door.

"Just, just call me when you aren't so busy," she said, closing the door and ending the conversation.

She was in her car with the engine started before Donovan could even manage to get out of his seatbelt. Perfect time to get clumsy.

### Chapter 10

What just Happened?

Looking down at the numbers written on the inside of his wrist, and remembering how it had felt as her palm rested against his arm while she doodled on him, he was tempted to call her right now. Even more tempted to follow her home.

Donovan sighed, yeah, probably not the best idea. Clearly, she needed some space. Maybe she needed time to get used to the idea of Donovan and his career.

Because just what the hell had she meant by "this is why she didn't date athletes?" Had she dated one in the past? Was that why she was so hesitant to get involved with him? Had that other guy hurt her? It certainly made a little more sense out of things if that were the case.

Either way, Donovan was going to be busy for the remainder of the week. Hell, next week too. After the Blues on Saturday, they had Sunday and Monday off, then another back to back against the Hurricanes and the Blue Jackets on Tuesday and Wednesday, both at home. Thursday was Dean and Abby's wedding, after which they only had one day before the team flew out to play the Rangers that next Saturday.

Not much of a honeymoon if you asked him, but they obviously had some sort of logic to their madness or else they wouldn't be getting married on a Thursday. Probably planned to take an extended honeymoon once the season was over.

There were sixteen games left in the regular season, and just over a month with which to fit them all in. He was going to be busy for sure, but he'd find a way to fit Lacy into the equation as well, he'd make sure she understood that she was just as important to Donovan as his job was.

Wow, Lacy was just as important to him as hockey. When had that happened?

Lacy slammed her car door shut and marched up the stairs to her apartment, careful not to slam that door too.

Was she stupid or just crazy? Lacy didn't go on dates. Not really. But as much as she tried to convince herself that tonight wasn't a date, and that she hadn't asked him again to go on another one, it wasn't working this time.

It was true that after meeting a guy they usually went out for lunch or coffee and she explained what she was interested in, but she'd done that already with Donovan. And not once during that time did she tell him how things worked. No, she'd asked him to take her to a hockey game, where she then opened herself up to him, and asked him out AGAIN!

What the hell was her problem? It was easy, go out, go home, get laid, and never speak to him again! But NOOO, Lacy just couldn't seem to help herself around Donovan Pierce.

As she slumped down in her favorite lazy boy and turned on the lamp that sat on the table next to it, Lacy tried to understand just what it was about the man that threw her so out of whack.

After their initial meeting, and then reading that magazine article about him, she'd been convinced he was not only a jerk, but a pig as well. Hardly any different than the men she was used to dealing with. Just another guy looking to get laid, and thinking he was God's gift to women.

That was, until she'd gotten to know him. Yeah, okay, maybe she didn't really know him, but she knew enough of him to figure out that the picture the magazine had painted didn't look anything like the man she was quickly growing so fond of.

Donovan was kind and generous. She knew that because she'd stumbled upon plenty of articles about him donating to this organization, or spending time with sick kids when she had set out to find the dirt on him online. Whenever he wasn't on the ice, he was playing the damn martyred saint!

Fan boards were full of comments about how awesome it had been to meet Donovan Pierce, how he had just made their child's day! And it fit. Because whenever she was around him, he acted like any other normal human being. He had yet to flaunt his wealth in front of Lacy. Sure he drove a decked out Cadillac, but she would too if she could afford it!

He was just so down to earth. Which had really surprised her.

It was so much more than that, though.

He was smart, and funny, successful. On paper, well, not including what the tabloids had written, only what she saw, he was perfect. He was handsome too. Everything about him, from his shaggy hair, to his sensual looking lips, and his chiseled body, the man was quite the heartthrob.

For Lacy, though, it all came down to how she felt whenever he touched her.

It was like an electrical current running through her body. There was the initial shock when their skin made contact, and after that, it was like a soft vibrating hum that slithered through her and wrapped around her like a warm scarf.

Lacy couldn't remember a time with any other man that she had felt that way. Not even during sex. Damn, just touching Donovan was better than sex. How was that possible? And if that were the case, she couldn't even begin to imagine what it was going to feel like when they coupled.

She couldn't believe she'd already resigned herself to that too. She was going to sleep with Donovan. No, she was going to have sex with Donovan. There wouldn't be any sleeping going on. Maybe she was more attracted to Donovan than usual. And perhaps she could see herself enjoying his company on a regular basis, in and out of bed, but she'd be damned if she was going to turn this into something it wasn't.

Donovan hadn't even hinted at any sort of relationship with Lacy, as far as she was concerned, he wanted the same thing she did. Just a quick tumble in the sack. Maybe even on a regular basis if both felt so inclined to do so more than once.

For all she knew, the tabloids were telling the truth, and he and Amie were talking about reconciling their relationship. At least that's what she had read this morning. They'd talked about Donovan's accident and the fact that Amie had been spotted leaving the same hospital he had been admitted to around the time of the accident. Coincidence? No, because Lacy had seen Amie leaving Donovan's room with her own eyes.

Not that it meant anything.

She really had to stop reading that crap. If it wasn't Donovan they were trashing it was Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux. As if those two hadn't been through enough already. But they still made it work.

Shaking her head, Lacy chased thoughts of tabloids and celebrities out of her head, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV instead. She flipped through channels for a few minutes before landing on the NHL network where they were showing highlights of all tonight's games.

She really did have a good time at the game. Would probably even consider watching hockey more often if she had the chance. When she worked days, she usually got home just after the games started, but next month, when she was working nights again, she'd really only get to watch on her days off. And hadn't Donovan said the playoffs started next month?

She really needed to get back online and do a little more research. If she was going to become a fan, she wanted to at least be a knowledgeable one. Lacy didn't do anything half-assed, it just wasn't in her nature.

Donovan was nervous.

A few seasons back he had fractured his clavicle, it was right about the same time of the year too, and he'd gotten back into the lineup the week before playoffs began. This time around, he had three weeks to get readjusted. But that didn't make him any less nervous.

He'd been practicing with the rest of the team, full contact, for the last week or so, and in that time he'd taken quite a few big hits. Each time worrying that he might tear that ligament again. He hadn't though, in fact, after the first couple of days where he'd been pretty sore all the way around, it started to feel as though the injury had never even happened.

But those were just practices, and against his own teammate's, whom he had suspected might have been going a little easier on him than they should have been. Tonight would be the real test, and against a hard hitting team like the St Louis Blues. They had a reputation for being a rough and tumble team, whereas the Slashers had modeled their style of play after teams with more speed, like the Blackhawks, and the Lightning. Speed and skill over hard hits and checking.

Suiting up in the locker room, about ten minutes until game time, Donovan finished wrapping his stick and took a couple of deep breaths. Other members of his team were going through their own pregame routines as well. Donovan would usually join Dean, Andre, and Peter down in the hall for a game of hacky sack, or to kick around a soccer ball, but the atmosphere was different tonight, everyone seemed to be on pins and needles

It wasn't that they weren't any good without Donovan, they'd done just fine going 7-3-1 in their last eleven games, but he certainly made an impact, both on and off the ice, so they were more than just a little happy that he was back in the lineup, if not a bit nervous themselves about the possibility of him being re-injured. Probably would have liked to play a team like the Capitals first, who they were set to play in a couple of weeks.

Coach Turski rounded everyone up, gave a quick speech that really got the blood pumping, and everyone headed for the door. Donovan took another deep breath, Peter coming up behind him and smacking him on the shoulder.

"You be fine. I know it." He said, his Russian accent really coming through.

This was Peter's second season with the Slashers, second year in the US as well, before that he'd played a couple of years in the KHL, the European hockey league. When he first came over, he couldn't speak a lick of English, he'd gotten better, but it was still hard to understand him at times.

"Thanks, man. I hope you're right."

Skating out into the rink, the fans cheering for his return, even if it wasn't his home crowd, the bright lights, the feel of the smooth ice under his blades, it instantly relaxed him. Donovan forgot to be nervous any longer as he made his way over to the face-off circle and his place on the right side of Dean.

The puck dropped, Dean flinging it over to Peter who took it up the boards and dumped it deep into the Blues zone. Like second nature, as if the past few weeks hadn't even happened, Donovan was there, snagging the puck out of the clutches of one of the Blues defenders and shooting a one-timer that just glanced off the post, ringing loudly.

Inwardly he groaned, but there was no time for frustration just yet, as the puck was picked up by Tarasenko and quickly taken back out to center. Peter and one of their rookie defensemen were there waiting, gaining the takeaway and sliding the puck across the blue line to where Dean was standing by.

Donovan slid in front of the net blocking the view of Jake Allen, the Blues goaltender, and providing a screen. It worked! Dean passed the puck over to Peter, who after a few seconds of fancy footwork where he danced around the opposition, flung the puck back to Dean. Donovan tracked its motion, sliding left and right while his teammate looked for an open shooting lane.

Then all at once, the puck went flying, like a little black dot at hyper speed, Allen never had a chance, didn't see it coming as it slid under his slightly lifted left pad and into the back of the net. Two minutes into the game and they'd struck. Two minutes into the game, and Donovan was back. He'd even taken a good smack to the left side of his body up against the boards, shaking it off and scooting over to the net to make his presence known.

Damn, it was good to be back.

With two assists and a goal, Donovan helped lead his team to a five to three win over the St Louis Blues. With him back in action, it left Dean more open, better able to fulfill his role, getting two goals of his own. It was perfect, the game, the evening, all of it.

And every time Donovan got even just a little discouraged, like when he'd hit the post on more than one occasion, or that giveaway he'd had in the second period when he made a bad change, and it resulted in a Blues goal, he had discovered a new way to calm his nerves. Something he hadn't had before, Lacy.

Just thinking about Lacy brought him back around, gave him what he needed to calm down and think it through. Maybe it didn't make much sense to him, the woman did drive him crazy, but it worked anyhow. He just pictured her face, those lips, those eyes, that adorable smile, and then he could take a deep breath and focus again.

He wondered if he should tell her that. No, probably not. Lacy seemed frightened enough as it was. Like a feral cat. That's what she reminded him of. A skinny, feral cat. You feed it and it starts to come around, but it's skittish, and every time you reach out to touch it, it shies away. Eventually, you get close enough to put a finger on it, feel the softness of its fur, but then it turns and bolts. Afraid of its own purring. The poor thing unable to understand the pleasure your caress provoked.

That's usually what he thought of when he was around Lacy, and little by little he knew he was gaining her trust. Eventually, she wouldn't shy away from him, she might even enjoy it. Eventually.

The guys went to a local pizza place after the game. A large pie and a round of beers. A great way to celebrate a comeback game for Donovan.

Lacy had cheered as the final buzzer sounded. Went a little wild in fact. Tina and her husband sat on the couch next to her, shock written all over their faces.

Lacy watched hockey? Since when?

Tina's husband, who had only stopped by on his lunch break, excused himself and left to finish his shift, leaving Tina and Lacy to discuss this sudden interest in hockey.

"I wasn't going to say anything at first, because, well, I like hockey, and I thought maybe you were just trying to appease me or something, but Lacy. Wow. You really got into it there. Even more than Bert, who happens to have season tickets you know. What's gotten into you?"

Lacy laughed, grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge and refilling her glass. She gestured to Tina, who looked at her own empty glass but shook her head instead.

"I went to a game the other night, it was fun." She said, leaving Tina to prod her for further information.

"And?" she prompted without hesitation.

Lacy shrugged, reluctant to say anything else. "And what? I think I like hockey now."

"I'm just not buying it, Lacy. You, the Syfy queen, nerd extraordinaire, went to a hockey game, with who?"

Coughing, Lacy said: "Donovan Pierce" under her breath, hoping Tina wouldn't catch it while she secretly hoped she would.

Tina squinted her eyes at Lacy and cupped her hands around her ears, "I'm sorry? What was that?" she said pretending as though she hadn't heard. But the smile that stretched across her plump little cheeks was a dead giveaway.

"Alright, alright," Lacy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I went to the game with Donovan Pierce!"

"Wow."

"Not a word to anyone about this, do you hear me Tina?" she asked sternly, pointing a finger at her friend, who shook her head and zipped her lips.

"When did he ask you out?" Tina blurted, scooting to the edge of the couch and resting her smiling face in both hands. "I know you were his nurse in the ER but, gosh, he was injured, what five weeks ago?"

Lacy nodded, "yeah, and we didn't quite hit it off right away. No, I ran into him a couple of times at the gym."

"The gym?" Tina said, more a statement than a question as she seemed to be mulling something over. Her eyes suddenly going wide when she had her eureka moment. "Shannon!" she shouted, causing Lacy to jump a little. "Do you think he knows Shannon?"

"What are you talking about Tina?"

"Don't you remember? A couple of weeks ago Shannon was asking about you, your gym habits. I told you, Lacy, don't you remember?"

She did remember, and it hadn't been but maybe a day or two after that conversation that she had run into Donovan again. That little sneak! But how had he known Shannon? She wasn't exactly his type, in fact, rumor had it she was into women, which given the way she looked was really obvious.

"Yeah, I remember alright, and you know, it makes sense if he knows Shannon, but how would he?"

"You know, if I remember correctly, and I'm sure I'm not mistaken because hubby and I had actually considered doing this ourselves, maybe trying to get some good tickets out of the deal," Tina was saying, going off in a completely different direction than she had started in.

"Tina! Spit it out!" Lacy interjected, catching her attention and refocusing her.

"Oh, right, sorry." Tina winced. "I think Shannon's parents housed one of the Slashers players from Russia a couple of years ago. Like a foreign exchange student, except, well, he was a hockey player trying to adjust to the American lifestyle."

"So what, they took him in and showed him around?"

"Yeah, something like that. Petrov, no, Petrovic, I think that's it." She continued, tapping a finger to her temple.

"Peter, I met him."

"You met Peter Petrovic? Really? Wow, who else did you meet? And how?"

Lacy shrugged, forgetting all about Shannon and Donovan's underhanded tactics for the moment. "Donovan took me into the locker room after the game, I pretty much met the whole team."

"Holy crap Lacy! And you're just telling me about this now? Some friend you are!"

"Oops. I guess I just didn't think it was that much of a big deal." She said, looking genuinely sorry for that matter.

"Not that big of a deal? Are you kidding me? You went on a date with Donovan Pierce and you think it's not that big of a deal?" Tina shook her head, "I want details Lacy, I feel like you owe me that much!"

And she was right. Tina was Lacy's best friend, and while she figured she would have told her eventually, she really just needed to sort through things first in her own mind. But she figured she'd gone over it enough times since Monday night to have understood just about as much of the evening as she could. Maybe Tina could catch something she'd missed.

So she told Tina everything. From the first time she'd run into Donovan at the gym, to the second time, and all about the date itself. The game, how he looked, about talking to Abby, meeting the guys, and how she felt every time Donovan so much as looked at her, let alone made physical contact.

Tina was enthralled. She couldn't believe her ears, Lacy, her best friend, Lacy, a true romantic skeptic had met and been courted by none other than Donovan Pierce, one of Savannah's most eligible bachelors! And no doubt that courting her had been his intention. A man just didn't do the types of things Donovan had done if he was only interested in sex. Nuh uh, no siree!

"So when are you going to see him again? Are you going to sleep with him? What about Amie?"

So many questions, Lacy's head was reeling. "Tina!" She burst out, "slow down!"

"Sorry, sorry, you're right. Go ahead."

"I don't know when I'm going to see him again, he has my number, and I told him to call. He has a busy couple of weeks, with the end of the season and all."

"Don't forget about the playoffs!"

Lacy groaned, "believe me, I haven't. I'm not getting ahead of myself here either." She said, taking a sip of wine and placing the glass on the table next to her. "I don't know what the story is with Amie, I didn't ask, don't know if I want to. As for sex," She shrugged, "we'll see what happens."

Tina clapped her pudgy little hands together in front of her in a fit of uncontrollable glee, "you have to tell me everything Lacy, I want to live vicariously through you! I need this damn it! A hockey player! Oh, my God!"

Laughing, Lacy placed a hand over hers, "I promise not to hold back."

"Good. Good. So tell me, is he just as good looking up close? I didn't meet him while he was in the hospital, but I heard he was hotter in person."

"Yeah," Lacy agreed, allowing herself to picture him in her mind's eye, going over every detail of his amazing body, at least what she knew of it anyways. "His eyes Tina, oh God, it's like he can see into your soul, and his body mmhmm."

Tina's eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of her head! "You've already seen him naked? But I thought you said you haven't had sex with him?"

"I haven't, but I had to take off his shirt to stitch up his shoulder, of course, I didn't know who he was back then, didn't mean I couldn't appreciate his chiseled body! And man is it ever! 'Rock hard abs' has a totally new definition when it comes to a man like that!"

The two girls talked long into the night, giggling like teenagers. It felt good, though, Lacy hadn't had this kind of "girl time" in a while. She and Tina had talked about her past indiscretions, but nothing like this! Donovan being who he was, was uncharted territory for them.

Lacy might have slept with one of her professors, after graduation of course, but a celebrity? She hadn't met one, let alone thought it a possibility. Not that she'd slept with him yet, but make no mistake, she knew it was going to happen.

Soon.

### Chapter 11

Getting to Know you

By the end of the week, Donovan was bushed. Sunday's rest hadn't come soon enough. They'd tackled the Predators, winning in overtime, but lost the second of their back to back against the Blues almost getting shut out at three to one. Not one of Donovan's better games. He was still a little rusty.

After spending most of Sunday morning in bed, he made his way down to the rink to get in a light workout and practice on the ice with a couple of the guys that had also come out, then he spent his evening plopped on the couch in front of the TV with a carton of takeout and a good movie. He waited until Monday morning to call Lacy.

He figured he had given her enough time. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to call her after their date because he had, the urge was almost overwhelming really. But he'd managed to keep it in check. Or maybe all the travel and the grueling games had done that for him, he'd been busy after all. Three games in four nights was enough to wear out even the most seasoned veteran.

He just didn't want to spook her again, or piss her off. Clearly, he'd done both that night.

Which reminded him of that damn cat again. And the analogy was apt. He'd had a cat just like her when he was younger. It was a ratty little orange tabby. Came around to be fed, but always took off before he could get close enough. After a couple of years, he finally managed to gain its trust, at least enough to pet it a couple of times. Of course, he wasn't going to wait around for a couple of years hoping Lacy would eventually warm up to him.

He didn't have that kind of time, or patience for that matter. Not to mention, that damned cat had run off one day and never come back. Not that he would have been able to keep it since his mom was allergic to dander. No, he'd given Lacy just about all the time he was going to give her.

So he called her, and he asked her out to lunch. It was a start. And she had accepted. So it was good enough for him. For now.

Lunch, Lacy was having lunch with Donovan. She'd almost given up hope that he was going to call her, thought maybe she had been rude to him for the last time. But he'd called. And really, she should have guessed he'd wait until he had a small break between games. She knew he had flown out to St Louis on Tuesday evening for his game on Wednesday, the game she had watched with Tina.

And then he'd told her he had a game in Nashville on Friday, so they probably flew there on Thursday straight from Missouri, because why would they come home first if they had to leave right away? That just didn't make any sense. Then he had a game at home Saturday. Not nearly enough time to set up anything with her.

If she had to guess, he probably spent Sunday recuperating, at least, she would have. But maybe he had to go to a practice or a workout too, she'd read somewhere that athletes were always working out. So they were going to have lunch, today. And tomorrow he had a game against Carolina.

Lacy painted her face appropriately and chose a sundress that accentuated her eyes. She was going for casual, but with a bit of a flare, maybe show him she had a feminine side as well. Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she gave a little nod to her reflection. Yeah, she liked what she saw.

And so did Donovan. His eyes gave him away immediately as he took in every inch of her. From the smoky eyes to the red lips. The way her dress clung to her waist and flared out just above her knees, and her legs, her legs nearly gave him a heart attack. Long, lean, toned and tanned just enough that they weren't pale. He had dreams about those legs. Wondered what they looked like, what they might feel like wrapped around his waist as he spilled himself into her.

Donovan shook his head, he had to get a hold of himself. Lunch, they were having lunch.

"You look..." he began, catching himself before he stuttered. "Amazing. You look amazing Lacy."

Blushing, Lacy tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, "thanks, you don't look so bad yourself" she said, giving him a once over.

Donovan had chosen to wear a nice sports coat, pairing it with a white shirt and a dark pair of jeans. Casual, but stylish. And he'd left his hair shaggy and slightly rumpled.

Not that she hadn't already seen him all dressed up mind you. He'd worn a designer suit to the game that night and had looked downright gorgeous in the dark tux with subtle pin striping and his hair slicked back. While she had worn, jeans and a t-shirt. Luckily he hadn't commented on it.

Didn't most people dress that way to go to a hockey game?

Of course, she understood why he hadn't, he was a player, and he had to conform to certain appearances and all that. Lacy liked this look on him much better, though. The combination of casual and dressy, with his hair soft and natural, looked best on him. And God, how tempted was she to reach up and run her fingers through his hair? Too tempted. So she kept her hands at her side as they made their way into a little Scottish pub, one Lacy hadn't been to before, and ordered a couple of drinks.

He went for water, she got an iced tea.

The food was good, about what she would have expected, and the conversation light. He told her about his week, the games, how it felt to be back, and that he had a rough couple of games coming up.

Lacy talked about work as well, both of them laughing as they made fun of one of her most recent patients. People did the craziest things, and sometimes it made for the strangest cases in the ER.

The conversation took a slight turn though when Lacy asked him what he was doing for St. Patty's day. Both of them being Irish and all.

"I don't have a game, but I'll be out of town just the same. Dean and Abby are getting married at the Hilton Head that day."

"Oh right, yeah I think I remember Abby saying something like that. Is there something significant about the holiday for them?" Lacy asked, mildly curious.

"I don't think so. I mean, I know Abby's half Irish, and it's in Dean's background somewhere, so maybe that's it, but they actually met at a game, the home opener to be exact."

"Wait. They met at the home opener? That was what? October? And they're getting married already? Wow."

Finishing off his burger, Donovan blotted his mouth with a napkin and laughed, "It's actually a little more complicated than that."

"How so?" she asked, he really had her attention now.

"See, Abby had a boyfriend when they met. So they didn't even officially start dating until like, a week before he asked her to marry him."

"What? That's crazy!"

Shrugging, Donovan took a sip of his water. "I guess when it's right, you just know it."

When it's right, you just know it. Donovan's words haunted her for the rest of the afternoon.

They'd taken a short walk in the park after lunch, Donovan talked about growing up in Canada, the harsh winters, playing hockey out on frozen ponds, high school, girls, pretty much anything she wanted to know about his childhood. He was like an open book.

They didn't talk about Amie though. He hadn't offered up any information, so Lacy didn't ask. She figured if he had wanted to discuss Amie he would have, and left it at that.

Lacy was a little cryptic when it was her turn to talk. She told him about college easily enough and didn't mind telling him about her current family. Her step-father was a good guy, who made her mom happy. Her little sister was a doll, and as smart as a whip. She even told him a little bit about her step-brother, Kyle was a nice enough guy, after all, they just didn't know each other that well. He'd already been off in the Army when their parents had met.

And of course, being a gentleman, Donovan hadn't pushed her for any information she didn't readily give him. He never asked about her father or her childhood for that matter. It really surprised her. But maybe it shouldn't have. He hadn't bothered to mention Amie, so maybe he understood a thing or two about secrets and privacy.

All in all, it was a nice date. A quiet lunch, with good food, and attentive company. Lacy hadn't even tried to move away when Donovan placed his arm around her during their walk through the park.

"Well," he said, as they had stood next to Lacy's car. "I had a good time Lacy. Thank you."

"I did too. More than I thought I would."

Donovan chuckled, "I guess I'm not as bad as you thought I was then, am I?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Lacy smirked, nudging him with her shoulder.

Looking up at him, she wondered if this was it. Had the time come that he would finally try to kiss her? She'd seen it in his eyes before. They glazed over a little bit, and seemed to pop with electricity, like they did now. The current between them sizzling, like grease in a frying pan.

Donovan sighed, taking a step back, "what are you doing Friday night?" he asked. That hungry look fading from his eyes.

Deflated, Lacy played with the strap of her purse. "I guess I'm having dinner with you." She said.

"Great, I'll call you Friday then." He leaned in, gave her a light kiss on the cheek and with a smile, helped her into her car, closing the door for her, and waving as he walked away.

A gentleman? Or an asshole? She couldn't decide.

The wedding was beautiful. A word Donovan would normally only have associated with the bride, who was, by the way, every bit of that, but he couldn't deny that the place they had chosen, and the person who had decorated it had done an amazing job. In what little time they had to put everything together, they had done it well.

Abby was a vision in white lace, with little sparkling jewels dotting the gown everywhere, she looked like a princess. And Dean her charming prince. Donovan had escorted Amie down the aisle as she was one of the bridesmaids, and he a groomsman, and then he had watched the ceremony, a little jealousy taking root in the pit of his stomach as his best friend and his lovely bride said I do.

He wanted this, more than he had realized. Someone to look at him the way Abby looked at Dean. Someone to love him, someone to come home to every night, travel with him to his games. Someone to fight with, and someone to have incredible makeup sex with. Someone who really kept him on his toes. Someone like Lacy.

"Hey, whatcha thinkin about?" Amie asked, butting into his thoughts.

They were seated next to each other at the table during the reception, Amie, looking pretty as always, nudged him to get his attention.

"You looked pretty far away just now." She commented when he finally met her gaze. "What's on your mind, Donny?"

He smiled, she saw right through it. "Nothing. It was nothing."

"Oh come on, it's me Donny. You can tell me anything. So what's got you so down?"

"I really don't want to talk about it," he said, trying to lightly rebuff her curiosity.

Amie laughed instead, "it's a girl isn't it?"

Shocked, he looked at her in wonder. "Is it really that obvious?"

"No. Yes, a little bit. But it didn't hurt that Abby had mentioned seeing you at the game last week with a girl."

"Oh."

"We're women Donny, we talk."

"What else did she say?" He asked nervously. Causing Amie to laugh quietly to herself.

"It's okay Donny. Really. I'm moving on too you know."

"What? Since when?" He barked, suddenly alert.

"Hey! We've been broken up for almost two months now, you didn't expect me to turn into a nun did you?" She argued, it was probably the first time Donovan had ever seen her feathers ruffled. It caught him off guard a little even.

"I guess not, I just, I don't know. I felt guilty about dating again, it never occurred to me that you would find someone else too."

"Well, I haven't, but that doesn't mean I'm not looking. This isn't about me, though. This is about you, and Lacy. That's her name right?"

"Yeah." He agreed, getting back on track.

"Abby told me she was really pretty, by the way, and a nurse. Good for you Donovan, you might find that dating a nice normal person works better for you."

Donovan scoffed, "there's nothing 'normal' about Lacy."

"No?" Amie asked, choking back her laughter. "Abby said she seemed pretty nice, maybe a little nervous about getting involved with an athlete, but nice just the same."

"Abby said that? She seemed nervous? I wonder why."

Amie shook her head, "I don't know, I guess she asked Abby about Dean, and how she knew he wouldn't or wasn't cheating on her. You think she might have read those tabloid articles about us?"

"Probably," he snorted in disgust. "I think it's more than that, though. I get the feeling she'd been cheated on herself. Makes sense."

Standing, Amie said, "be careful with her then." And she excused herself before making her way over to the bride and groom.

So she was scared of being cheated on? He should have guessed. That's probably why she had made that remark about athletes. Had she dated one in the past, and he had cheated on her? He wouldn't put it past them, most guys in sports were dogs. Oh, there were good ones and bad ones, but a lot of guys played the field in their early years. Hell, Donovan had. But he was careful about it. Mostly. There was that one time, and look how that had turned out. He still couldn't get away from Candace and her wrath.

He'd have to talk to Lacy about this, tell her about Amie. The sooner the better. Maybe on Friday. He'd planned to take her out to Tybee Island. Maybe have dinner at Marlin's and then a walk on the beach before going back to his place.

But after what Amie had just told her, he'd have to play it by ear. Probably save the beach for another time. Maybe getting all romantic on her wasn't the best idea right now. Better to get the past out of the way first.

Donovan had seen a couple of people masquerading as the press lurking around and snapping pictures, he wouldn't be surprised if there was another article about him and Amie written up. So he needed to make sure Lacy wasn't blindsided by it, lies, even if that's what they were, could certainly be damaging.

Hadn't everyone figured that out by now with that horrible business that had happened to Patrick Kane a few years back? Man, he felt bad for Kane. Something like that, it's hard to come back from it. Lucky for him he just put it behind himself and got on with his life. He had a killer season to show for it too.

Of course, Donovan's troubles were nowhere near the same magnitude, but it didn't paint him in a very nice light all the same. No, he'd tell Lacy about Amie the first chance he got. Clear the air. Get it over with and go from there.

"Hey, have you seen this yet?" Shelly asked the next day, throwing a magazine down on top of Lacy's keyboard.

Lacy looked it over, the latest from Star, hot off the presses, dated for today.

"Amie and Donovan, back together!" It read. Lacy flipped through the pages before coming to the article, skimming it she read about the two of them attending Dean and Abby's wedding together, seen dancing and talking intimately during the reception. With the pictures to follow.

She had to admit, they looked good together, and happy. Donovan was smiling as he twirled Amie around the dance floor, and she had a telltale grin on her face as they sat at a table together, obviously deep in conversation. But back together? She just didn't know what to believe.

"Aren't you seeing that schmuck?" Shelly asked, tapping a finger on his picture and fluffing her hair with her other hand.

"I have got to stop reading this crap," Lacy said, tossing the magazine aside and looking Shelly in the eyes. "Yes, we've been seeing each other. But this, this trash," she went on, gesturing towards the magazine, "how can I believe this? For all I know, she was a guest at the wedding too! They'd dated for over a year Shelly, so who's to say Abby hadn't invited her too?"

Shelly picked up the magazine, pursing her lips as she looked at the pictures, "I dunno Lace, they look pretty chummy to me. Did he tell you she was going to be there?"

Lacy shook her head, becoming a little more discouraged as the conversation wore on. "No, we didn't talk about it, he just said he was going. Still, it doesn't mean anything," she said in his defense.

"But it might."

"But it might not. Look, I'm seeing him again tomorrow night, if he doesn't bring it up, then I'll know something's not right. Until then," she argued, standing up and heading in the direction of one of the rooms. "I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserves that much doesn't he?" she asked over her shoulder.

Shelly, with a hand on one hip, just stared after her. No doubt about it, Lacy was falling for the schmuck.

They decided to keep things casual on Friday.

Lacy retouched her makeup, she'd had lunch that afternoon with her mother, and wore her favorite pair of jeans along with a t-shirt that proclaimed Trix were for kids.

Donovan, also wearing jeans, which rode low on his hips and along with his fitted T, really showed off his physique, had donned a pair of expensive looking sunglasses as well, the whole get up reminded Lacy of James Bond. The man simply looked sexy no matter what he was wearing!

And together they strolled casually down Broughton Street, getting stopped every so often by fans that would recognize Donovan for who he was despite his casual appearance and asking for a picture or an autograph.

Not that Lacy minded, it was nice to see him interact with fans. It showed her just how much of a good guy he really was. Maybe he was just doing it to impress her, that thought had certainly crossed her mind, but she didn't think so. He seemed only too willing to oblige them, even if he and Lacy were talking about something, or he had just put his arm back around her shoulder, if a fan stopped them, he was humble and thankful for the recognition.

They stopped and had dinner at a little cafe before taking a walk in one of the nearby parks and catching a movie, an old black and white one, at one of those movie nights in the park events. It was quite romantic, even if he wasn't trying to be.

Once they were back on the street and headed towards her car again, the night still pretty young, Donovan turned to her, pulling her to a stop, "I don't want this night to end quite yet," he said solemnly.

Lacy shook her head, "neither do I. I'm having a lot more fun than I'd like to admit."

"But you just did."

"Right."

Donovan cocked his head to one side, "I only live just around the corner, down on Jones St. Would you like to come up for a drink?"

Lacy was paralyzed, she felt like she couldn't breathe, let alone speak. She knew it would come to this sooner or later, and while she was more than just a little curious, because hell, sparks flew every time he touched her even just slightly, she wasn't sure she was ready for it to be sooner rather than later.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," she blurted out, beating herself up mentally as soon as the words were out. Stupid stupid stupid! She told herself over and over.

Donovan looked at her as though she had suddenly grown two heads. If he wasn't confused by her convoluted logic earlier, he was more than just a little lost now.

"Can you explain that for me? I'm not sure I understand."

Lacy shook her head, "this is going to sound totally insane, but I didn't mean to say that out loud."

After another couple of seconds of silence, in which Lacy just wanted to shrivel up into a little ball and die, Donovan threw his head back and laughed, and although a part of her was more than just a little annoyed, it eased her self-esteem, relaxed her a little even. So she laughed along.

"Should I just take you back to your car then?" He asked once the laughter had subsided and the moment was gone.

"No, let's go have that drink."

Donovan placed a hand on her shoulder, "are you sure? I don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."

Lacy, having regained most of her composure, looked up at him from beneath lowered eyebrows, "it's just a drink, Donovan. Or were you implying something else?"

"No, no, just a drink," he chuckled, taking his hand off her shoulder and backing up a step.

"Good, then lead the way." Lacy nodded, looping her arm through his and following him down the sidewalk.

It was a short walk.

Jones St., an upper-class neighborhood made up of mostly townhomes and condominiums, was just a few blocks away from downtown Savannah. Probably one of the biggest reasons that had appealed to Donovan in the first place, not to mention the easy commute to Battery Circle and Duracell Arena where he played.

Looking up at the building that stood before her, Lacy was impressed, most of the surrounding buildings had either Victorian style or red brick facades. His being one of the brick buildings with a steady stream of vines climbing up the exterior.

"I'm on the third floor," Donovan remarked, tearing her from her thoughts as she admired the exterior of his home. "No worries, though, there's an elevator," he said with a wink as he led the way.

Once inside, Donovan gave Lacy a quick tour, the kitchen with its white cabinets and dark granite reminded her of something out of Martha Stuart Living, and she just couldn't picture Donovan cooking in a place like this.

"Who decorated this place?" She asked curiously.

"I did."

Shocked, she drew her eyebrows together in disbelief, "no way." she said.

"Uh huh, sure did. My mom's an interior designer, so I admit that I might have picked up a few ideas from her along the way."

"Well, that explains it."

Donovan laughed as he continued to show her around.

The walls were a pale yellow, the baseboards and crown molding bright white, and the appliances top of the line stainless steel.

The rest of the living areas seemed to follow suit, flowing from one to the next. There was a small alcove off the kitchen that had a round table big enough for four, the color scheme matching the kitchen in that the table was made of dark metal and the top a white wood. The chair cushions were a blue and white chevron pattern and the walls again, were yellow. There was also a row of matching bar stools along the edge of the counter top facing the alcove in the event that one wanted to dine a little more casually.

A bay window in the dining area gave a stunning view of a park nearby, and when they entered the living room there was a good sized picture window with another amazing view, though this one was of downtown Savannah. Here, the touches were a little more masculine. The walls a light beige. The furniture sparse. There was a stone fireplace with a team photo above it, a dark brown couch and matching loveseat and a small black coffee table in the middle, with a decent sized rug underneath. No TV, though, which she thought was kind of odd.

The place had hardwood floors throughout, she would have guessed bamboo, and from what he had told her, was a three bedroom two bath and just over two thousand square feet. While the kitchen, dining, and living areas were probably larger than her whole place combined, she still hadn't seen two thousand square feet worth of space, and wondered what the other rooms looked like.

She didn't have to wonder long.

Next, he gave her a glimpse of his home office, a large space which held an oak desk in one corner, an empty one at that, a wingback chair, and on another wall what looked like a giant closet, though he told her it was a Murphy bed, and that his cousin had only recently moved out.

After that, he showed her what should have been your ordinary run of the mill guest bathroom. No such luck. The floors were marble, the vanity was a double with butcher block type counter tops and raised bowl sinks, there was a huge soaker tub and an even bigger walk in shower. The toilet even had its own little room with a TV built into the door! Funny place for that she had thought to herself as he led her out of the room and down the hall.

There were two more doors on either side of the hall, and he let her pick which one she wanted to see first. Turned out it to be his bedroom. Subliminal message much? She tried to ignore that thought as she quickly glanced around the room and walked back out.

Donovan following behind her, laughing at her obvious discomfort.

His bedroom, like his living room, was sparsely furnished, bed, rug, nightstands, dresser. Nothing much to see there. Not even a TV. Funny, the man had a TV in both his bathrooms, he had said as much when they were in the guest bathroom, telling her that his was a mirror image, with perhaps a couple of differences in design, but he didn't have a TV in either of the two common living spaces.

Did he only watch television when he was taking a dump? Gross.

That question was answered for her when she walked into the guest room. Which was anything but a guest room. Maybe the leather couch was comfy, but she doubted if anyone slept there. The black sectional bordered one wall, and three very large TV's were arranged like pictures on the wall directly in front of it. Flanking the window at the back of the room was a mini bar on one side and a table on the other that held a popcorn machine in the shape of the Stanley Cup, and a hot dog roller. So this was where the action was.

No mistaking that.

There was also a large cabinet on the wall where the door was. Flicking a switch, Donovan lit the cabinet, showing off rows of trophies, awards, and pictures. Looking more closely at a picture that occupied one end of the cabinet, Lacy gasped.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What? The picture of William Shatner?" He asked, stepping so close to her that she could feel the heat permeating from his body.

"Is it authentic?" she asked, turning carefully so as not to bump into him. She was all too aware of him and just how close he was to her.

"Yeah," he said, wearing a goofy smile as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans and looked down into her face. "I waited in line for like three hours at one of those Comi-Con things to get his autograph."

"So you met him?"

"Sure did, and would you believe me if I told you his wife was a fan of mine and he asked me for an autograph in return?"

Lacy shook her head, "that's crazy!"

"Believe it."

"Oh, I do." She said, "It's just, I would never have taken you for a Star Trek fan. You're too.."

"Too what?" He cut in.

"You're a jock." She replied flatly.

"People still use that word? I'd like to think of myself as a professional athlete, and that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good SyFy every now and then does it?" Donovan turned away from her, moving to the other end of the cabinet and opening a sliding door at the bottom.

Lacy's eyes widened as she looked inside. "Holy shit!"

Laughing as he watched her run a finger across each and every case, he leaned against the side of the cabinet, "I've got every single movie and episode ever made. But that's nothing, you should see all the posters and collectibles I have, you'd really shit yourself then."

"Show me!" She exclaimed, looking up from where she was crouched.

Donovan held out a hand to her to help her up, then shook his head. "It's all in the attic at my mom's place up in Canada. I guess I'll have to show you some other time."

They were standing mere inches apart, their eyes nearly level as Lacy was only a few inches shorter than Donovan's six two. She could see the colors swirling in his eyes, it was like they were both battling for control, trying to decide if they were going to be blue or green. Her pupils contracted, his eyes expanded.

"Yeah, maybe," she heard herself say. She was breathless, and her voice was husky, more of a whisper.

But the meaning wasn't lost on Donovan.

### Chapter 12

Feels like the First Time

He realized it was now or never. Her walls were down, more like stepping stones at this point, and he was ready to breach those barriers. He had to decide, and he needed to do it fast before she figured out just how vulnerable she really was.

Her eyes were naked, though, and he could tell just by looking at them, that she felt the same way he did. Maybe neither one of them was ready to admit it, not just yet, but there was something here. And Donovan was more than ready to take what she was so selflessly willing to offer.

He put his hand on the small of her back, the heat from his palm searing into her, it felt as if he were branding her flesh, marking her as his own. With a flick of his wrist, he had her bodily against him and lowered his head to seal the deal. His lips seizing hers and commanding a response.

One she gave readily, almost greedy in her actions. If she had thought there was an electrical current between them before, then this, this was purely unadulterated, and raw. The power of it comparable to Lighting, and the force of the strike so potent that had his hand not been bracing her up against him, she most certainly would have collapsed.

Her knees felt weak, her body tingling as energy pulsed through her. The heat of his body enveloping her, and the heady taste of his mouth, intoxicating. She wanted more, and as he took the kiss deeper, sliding his tongue into her mouth and daring her to challenge him, she abandoned the remainder of her common sense. She opened herself to his will, allowing him to see a vulnerability and passion that had lain dormant for far too long.

And Donovan knew the exact moment she surrendered, groaning, he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. He left her there only long enough to turn on the bedside lamp, and after slipping off her shoes, he had discarded his on the way in, he laid down next to her.

Lacy scooted over to accommodate him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sliding half underneath him as he rolled to face her. Smiling up at him, she ran her fingers through his thick and mussed up hair, laughing as she pulled his mouth back down to hers.

The vibrations her laughter made as his mouth slanted over hers were nearly his undoing, but he made himself hold it together. Just a little longer. He wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Donovan felt like a horny teenager again, and his parents would be home any minute.

Twenty-seven was still young, but damn if she didn't make him feel like this was his first time again. He felt awkward and out of sorts, unable to control his own reactions. Her fingers scraping lightly against his scalp as she tugged and scratched, her body, lithe and tight, moving underneath him, driving him to the brink, and he wasn't even inside her yet!

And her mouth! Full and soft, she tasted like honey, warm, liquid sweetness. He was drunk on Lacy, drowning in the ecstasy of her kiss.

Reaching between them, Donovan ran his hand down one jean-clad thigh, eliciting a shiver from Lacy. He groaned, sliding his hand slowly back up and thumbing loose the snap to her jeans. Lacy released her grip on his hair and struggled out of her pants, though their mouths never broke contact. Their tongues locked in an intense battle, fencing each other for control.

After expertly dispatching his slacks, Donovan finally had to pull away, yanking his shirt up and over his head, before helping Lacy out of her own.

Realizing that Lacy hadn't been wearing any underwear, and was now clad only in a scrap of lace that could hardly qualify as a bra, he felt his control dropping by degrees, and fought to hold what little remained intact.

Lacy lifted her back off the mattress and made quick work of her remaining item of clothing, her breasts spilling free as she removed that last barrier. Donovan's eyes bulged when he took in those creamy globes, reaching for them and molding them in his hands.

The heat and roughness of his calloused fingers forcing her to moan as he plied her nipples into tight peaks. He gently pulled one, then the other into his mouth, suckling greedily like a hungry babe. And indeed, he was hungry, with every inch of her body now bare and ready to be devoured, he set about ravishing her in the same way a starved animal might attack a carcass.

With vigor and thoroughness. No inch of skin was left untouched, unclaimed by his mouth or hands. He started with her mouth, drank his fill, and worked his way down from there. Nipping at her earlobes, kissing along the hollow of her throat, and scraping his teeth lightly across her collarbone.

All the while his hands slid lower and lower, down her flat abdomen, and over the mound of her pubic bone, skimming one thigh, and then the next. As his fingers finally delved into the delta between her legs, opening the soft folds and finding the moist heat of her desire, Lacy arched her back, her fingers twining into the now sweaty curls upon his head while he continued to kiss and nibble his way along her torso.

Slipping one finger then two into her core, he brought her closer to the edge. Teasing as he stroked her hard and fast then soft and slowly. When his mouth finally ventured south of the border, and his tongue found the small nub, the center of all her pleasure, he wickedly spun circles around it.

The combination of flickering heat and continuous strokes, in and out, around and around, was enough to send her over that first mountainous peak. Lacy went rigid in his arms as she became lost in the throes of one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever felt. Her body consumed by the electrical impulses that surged through her. She, a lightning rod, struck over and over in the storm that Donovan's mouth had conjured up.

When the intensity subsided, when she was finally able to breathe again, Donovan made his way back up the length of her slick wriggling form. The look in his eyes, however, was no less acute. The fire within them raging out of control, as though it might consume them both.

Panting, in an attempt to catch her breath, she lost herself in the swirling colors, her efforts futile as he captured her gasp in a kiss so passionate it bordered on painful. She had awakened an urge in Donovan, one so primal that all reason and logic was lost.

He fought the turmoil within him, but it was useless, Lacy was like a tidal wave, pulling him under, her response to him so powerful that he was unable to claw to the surface, didn't want to in fact. So consumed by her passion that he was content to just ride it out instead.

Forcing himself away from the delicious heat and taste of her mouth, he settled himself between her thighs, stroking her wetness with his slick fingers, she was ready for him, more than ready, and as she moaned his name into his ear, pleading, begging him to take her, the last of his restraint gave way.

Donovan plunged into her, one swift stroke, and then another. His powerful muscles rippling under her touch as she ran her fingers up and down his back, skimming her nails along his soft sweaty skin, and then digging in as his rhythm continued to build.

Her already taut sheath pulsed around him as the tension in her body, coiled tighter than a spring, finally exploded, stronger than any pleasure she had ever known, surely even more powerful than the first, Lacy clamped her mouth onto his shoulder, biting into his tender skin and smothering the shout that arose in her throat. She gave herself over to the overwhelming climax that engulfed her and spread through her system like a fire ravaging dry timber.

Still pounding his body into hers, the mixture of pleasure and pain, the feel of her tightening around his shaft as she erupted like a volcano in his arms, Donovan finally found his own release, emptying himself into her. It was earth shattering, a total eclipse that blinded him beyond reason. He screamed her name as he came.

Spent and sated, he went lax, rolling over onto his side and pulling her against him.

"Tell me... you're on... the pill..." he gasped, his lungs heaving as he tried to pull in oxygen.

Breathing heavily herself, Lacy nodded, "I am." she said in little more than a whisper, draping her arm over his chest and snuggling closer.

"Good... that was... amazing.." He said, having almost caught his breath by then.

Lacy looked up at him, her glasses all askew, she fixed them so she could see better, "thanks," she purred.

Donovan reached over and slapped her on the bottom, laughing as he did. "You're a little hell cat Lacy, and I don't just mean that viper's tongue of yours."

Raising to her elbow so that she was now looking down at him, Lacy traced circles in the coppery hair that dusted his muscular chest. "You've got a pretty wicked tongue yourself there Donovan. Some of the things you did down there," She said, hesitating as she tried to come up with the right words, Donovan watching her all the while beneath his eyelashes. "I didn't know it was possible to feel like that."

He couldn't help himself, he laughed again. This woman, this crazy, arrogant, and beautiful woman left him speechless.

"Thanks. I think." He drawled after his laughter subsided.

Lacy smiled, and after smacking him lightly on the chest, rose to a sitting position. She used her fingers to comb through her hair, unashamed by the fact that the sheets had slid down to her waist and her breasts hung freely, a scant few inches from Donovan's face.

Before he could attempt to pull a rosy nipple into his mouth, however, Lacy dropped her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, Donovan folded the covers back and watched as Lacy climbed out of bed. The muscles in her calves flexing as she walked, and the gentle sway of her naked hips.

God, she was beautiful.

Moving towards the bathroom to freshen up, he saw her splash water over her face, but she shut the door opting for a little modesty as she used the facilities and finished cleaning up.

Once back in the bedroom Lacy reached down to the floor, where the clothes had been strewn all over the place in their haste to make love, and she picked up her faded worn blue jeans, pulling them up her long and slender legs, they fit like a second skin, tight and sexy as hell. As she reached for her shirt and bra, Donovan sat up.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What's it look like? I'm getting dressed."

"I can see that, but why?"

Lacy stopped, one arm through the sleeve of her blouse, and looked at him dumbfounded. "Isn't this what you want?"

It was Donovan's turn to look baffled. "Are you a mind reader now too?" He mocked.

"Cute," she said putting her other arm through its sleeve, and pulling the shirt over her head. "I'm sure you don't need me hanging around. But this was fun, let's do it again sometime."

Donovan stood, the blankets nearly tumbling to the floor as he reached for her and pulled her back down to the bed with him. His mouth crushed hers in a hot, wild, and ravaging sort of way.

Breathless once he pulled away, Lacy lay in his naked lap, blinking her eyelids up at him. "Okay, as nice as that was, would you like to tell me what that was all about?"

Donovan stared down at her, that sinful smile stretched across his lips. "Stay." Was all he said.

Lacy finally managed herself into a sitting position, and tucking her bra into the pocket of her jeans, she reached for her socks, slipping them on one at a time. Her back to him as she spoke. "That's a lovely invitation Donovan, but I didn't take you for the overnight kind of guy."

"Excuse me? Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Reaching for her shoes, Lacy shrugged.

Donovan pulled at the back of her shirt and drew her into his lap once more where he gave her such a steely glare that she almost gasped. His blue eyes spitting fire at her.

"Tell me, Lacy, I want to know just what's going through that pretty little head of yours," he demanded, tapping gently on her forehead.

Forcing herself back into a sitting position, Lacy glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled sweetly, still a little unnerved by his sudden anger. Even mad, the man was devastatingly handsome, and every fiber of her being just wanted to snuggle back up beside him and drown in the pleasure he wrought on her body.

"I guess I just meant that you probably didn't do the whole overnight guest thing, other than Amie that is, you two are together again, right?"

"Oh Jesus Christ, are you reading those fucking tabloids again? What was this Lacy? Did you just want another notch on your bedpost? Hey, girls, look at me, I slept with the star hockey player! Is that it?"

Lacy stood, facing the bed, looking indignant for all the good it did with her hands on her hips and her mouth wide open. "Who the hell do you think you are? Don't you dare talk to me like that!" she seethed, wagging a finger in his face. "This isn't about me!"

"Isn't it, though?" He challenged, getting off the bed and standing stark naked before her.

"No! It isn't! You're the one in a relationship pal! Don't you dare question my motives! I have just as much right as any man or woman out there to sow my wild oats!"

"Damn it, Lacy, I'm not in a relationship!"

That shut her up. Mid-rant Lacy closed her mouth and looked at him petulantly for a minute, thinking about her reply and what he'd just said. "You're not? But.. but.."

Donovan placed his hands on her shoulders, "But what? That's not what the magazine said?"

Lacy merely nodded, plopping her butt back down onto the bed and looking up at him.

Still naked, Donovan grabbed a pair of gym shorts off a chair in the corner of the room and put them on. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked at her, this woman, this damn woman was going to be the death of him.

"Shit," he said. "You can't believe everything you read in a magazine Lacy." He continued more gently even though he wanted to ring her pretty little neck. "I know you've got brains in there woman. What the hell would possess you read that garbage?"

"I resent that!" she cried.

Donovan waved her off. "This was a mistake. I should've known better."

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?"

"Look, it's nothing against you, this shouldn't have happened, I shouldn't have rushed things."

"Oh."

Sitting down next to her on the bed, Donovan sighed and laid a hand on her leg. "Despite what Star says, Amie and I are NOT dating again."

"But I saw her, she was in your room a few weeks ago when you were in the hospital, and there were those pictures of the two of you at your friend's wedding," Lacy argued

Donovan nodded, "right, because she was still my 'in case of emergency' contact. It wasn't that long ago that we broke up, maybe a few weeks at that point, I just hadn't gotten around to changing that yet. We were together for over a year you know. And as far as Dean's wedding went, Amie was Abby's friend too."

"Oh, right, yeah that makes sense. But you guys were engaged... weren't you?"

Donovan cocked his head, "another tabloid scoop?"

Lacy laughed, "alright, you've got my attention, why don't you tell me about Amie?"

Standing and holding his hand out to her, Donovan led Lacy out of the bedroom and into the small eat-in alcove of his kitchen. "Coffee?" he asked walking towards the Keurig that sat on the granite countertop.

Lacy shook her head, "no thanks."

Donovan nodded in acknowledgment and popped a pod into the machine, setting a Toronto Blue Jays mug under the spout and hitting the start button. After the Keurig had done its thing, he grabbed his cup, putting a little cream and sugar into in and headed for the seat next to her.

"I met Amie at a charity function in New York, she's done a few things for the Make a Wish foundation, donations mostly, but we met, had a few drinks together, really hit it off." He said, taking a swallow of his coffee before he continued, a warm, easy smile on his face as he talked about Amie and their relationship.

"She's a great girl Amie is, so much more to her than just her looks, and she wasn't one of those vain airhead types either, a real intellectual."

"Okay, let me stop you there for a second." Lacy interrupted, holding up a hand, "I'm sorry, but an intellectual? You don't strike me as the kind of guy that goes for a smart woman."

Donovan laughed, "Well, you're a smart woman aren't you?"

Lacy pursed her lips. Open mouth, insert foot, she thought as she waited for him to continue.

"Anyways, a few years ago, I may have agreed with you. When I was just starting out, I was pretty sure of myself, I was exactly the kind of guy you accused me of being."

"Then what changed?" Lacy asked tilting her head to one side as she stared up at him, "And don't tell me it was Amie!"

"I won't," he replied, shaking his head. "France, er, Francois, one of my teammate's, you met him remember? Well, we met this girl one night when we were out at the bar, God she was gorgeous, and I don't know what you think about France, but he's pretty average if you ask me, not ugly, just average. You know, not like me"

"Huh, conceited much?" Lacy jested, poking him in the arm.

After rubbing his shoulder as if she had actually wounded him, Donovan leaned in against her a little, "for the sake of arguing, let's just agree that I'm a pretty good looking guy, yeah?"

"Alright, I won't argue that point. So you met this girl.. and what, she chose the other guy, humbling you?"

"Wow, you're pretty good at this nurse lady," Donovan replied, licking his lips and nodding. "I think you've missed your calling, you should've been a psychic."

"Oh come on!" Lacy said in disbelief. "You're telling me you gave up chasing tail because some girl turned you down?"

"Not just any girl Lacy, Denise was the total package!"

"Denise... Denise, where have I heard that name?" Lacy wondered aloud. "Aha! The magazine had a picture of you two, and you're right, she's gorgeous, but that's not the point, Star said the two of you hooked up!"

Standing, Donovan pushed away from the counter and walked around to put his mug in the sink, "there you go with those damn tabloids again. I never slept with Denise. She and I went to lunch that day, and to the mall to pick out a watch for France for his birthday. France is from my hometown ya know, or maybe you don't, but we've known each other for a long time, and I would never and I mean NEVER sleep with a married woman, especially when she's married to one of my closest friends!"

Lacy, a little shocked by his sudden outburst, actually believed him, he sounded genuinely disgusted by the prospect of having an affair with his friend's wife. "Alright, so go on with your story. You were humbled by the love between France and Denise, so when you met Amie.. what happened?"

Donovan looked at her for a minute, her change in mood stunned him a little. It was if she actually believed him.

"We kept in touch. She's from Dallas, and she traveled a lot in her profession, I was pretty busy myself. Phone calls, texts, skype, we did that for a while. Got together when we could, but like I said, we were both busy. She was out of the country more often than not, and we had a pretty long season last year with the cup run and all that."

"So then how did you make it work?"

Rehashing old memories, even good ones, it took Donovan a second to pull himself together, "it was hard." He finally admitted. "We cared about each other a lot mind you. I probably would have asked her to marry me, but.."

"But what?" Lacy prompted, pulling him back to the present.

"Sometimes...sometimes love just isn't enough."

"So that's it? You guys didn't see each other enough so you called it quits?" She asked incredulously. "Where did the tabloids get all those pictures then? And what about the crap about you cheating and all that? There's something you're not telling me."

Laughing, Donovan shook his head, "I was getting to that." He took his seat next to Lacy again, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked at her thoughtfully.

"You see, back in my early days, like I said before, I was pretty wild. Hell, I was good looking enough.."

"Was?" Lacy cut in, "from where I'm sitting, you still look pretty good to me old man."

Chuckling, Donovan continued, "as I was saying, I'm good looking enough, rich, quasi-famous. I had girls throwing themselves at me. Stalking me to my hotel room, coming up to me at dinner, I once even had a girl pull her panties off under her dress and hand them to me!"

"Ew Gross!" Lacy grimaced, as he laughed at her remark.

"Yeah, it was. But that's the way it went for me, and I'm ashamed to admit I took advantage of it.. most of the time."

Lacy butted in again, "tell me you didn't sleep with underwear girl!" she shouted.

Trying to contain himself, Donovan shook his head, "I didn't sleep with her. But there were plenty of others."

"Alright, so you were a man whore, what does this have to do with Amie?"

"Slow down woman, I'm getting around to it..."

Lacy slumped a little in her chair, placing one elbow on her knee and resting her face in her hand. As disturbing as it should have been to hear this man talk about his past conquests, she was fascinated by him.

"So one night, I met this girl, Candace, another model. Mostly cosmetics, but a little lingerie when the money was right, anyway, we hooked up. Just once, but it was enough, those few hours together, for me to realize I never wanted to see her again."

"Wow, was she that bad in bed?" Lacy asked with interest.

"It wasn't like that. It really had nothing to do with the sex. She was so.. what's the word, ah hell, let me put it this way, she was a complete bitch."

"Boy that's putting it lightly," Lacy said, smiling at him.

Donovan liked it when she smiled, her lips were so full and pouty, he wanted to kiss her. But the timing was off. So he wet his lips, and continued with his story instead, tramping down his surge of lust for her.

"I'm not sure I can explain it any better. There was just nothing I liked about her. I don't know how she even fooled me into going home with her, it just happened, but God, I regretted it."

"So what happened? A woman scorned kind of thing?"

"You could say that," Donovan admitted, taking his fingers and brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "After Amie and I had been dating for like six months, she came to stay with me for a week. Her own little vacation. And while she was here she hooked up with a friend who lived about an hour south. You'll never guess who."

Lacy's brows shot up, "you mean.." She said, trailing off when he nodded. "Wow, rotten luck, and how long had it been since you'd slept with Candace?"

"Gosh, a few years? but since I'd never called her back, well, I guess she hadn't gotten over it."

"Guess not." She agreed.

"She was relentless, and she told Amie all sorts of garbage stories."

"Did she believe her?"

Donovan shook his head again, his finger now trailing up and down her arm, sending little spindles of pleasure racing across her skin.

"None of it. So this girl hired a private investigator to dig up some dirt on me, take some pictures."

Shocked, Lacy's mouth went slack, "Oh my God, you're kidding right?"

"I wish I was. But the pictures in the magazine are her handy work. Tabloids don't often focus on hockey players, maybe models, but Amie wasn't very well known, she was always pretty low key. I guess her friend had too much time and money on her hands. I heard from someone at the magazine that she'd actually paid them to publish the article. And really, most of the pictures were of interactions with fans, completely harmless."

"And the lanky blonde?"

"Whitney," he answered. "That's Dean's sister. I've never slept with Whitney, she's like family to me. Amie was busy, so Whit accompanied me to an event, she got drunk, drugged up on acid, it was a rough night for her."

"Acid? I'll bet."

"Yeah, and the other girl, Riley, just a casual fan, a friend of a friend. She and Amie actually face-timed that night, they even still keep in touch."

"Okay, I'm sorry Donovan," Lacy said holding one palm up and putting the other over her heart. "I swear I'll never pick up another tabloid."

Standing, and laughing a little, Donovan pulled her out of her chair and up against his hard muscled chest, "good. Now come back to bed with me."

Lacy hesitated a moment, looking up into his pleading eyes. Here was a man that could steal her heart. And it scared her. "I can't."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Can't, won't, both. Take your pick."

Donovan placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his, "who hurt you, Lacy?"

Ashamed, she turned away, "I don't want to talk about it."

Donovan dropped his hand, "fair enough." After an awkward moment, he said, "can I see you again?"

He was going to let it go, just like that. The man had bared his soul to her, and yet when she denied him an explanation, one he rightfully deserved, he didn't push her. What was she doing? Was she stupid? This man was incredible! He was sexy as hell, and smart, accomplished, and she was just what, going to walk away?

Walking towards his bedroom to gather up her shoes, she peered at him from over her shoulder, "if you're lucky." She replied with a wink.

Donovan stood in the kitchen, smiling as he watched her disappear into his room and reemerge a few seconds later with her shoes dangling from her fingertips. She walked up to him, pressed a quick kiss to his lips and slipped one shoe on and then the other.

"Thanks for everything," she purred, opening the door and walking out into the hall.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Donovan still didn't move. Who was this woman? he thought to himself.

### Chapter 13

A thing for Donovan

"I slept with Donovan Pierce," Lacy whispered, brushing past Tina and leaning against the edge of her station.

Tina's eyes seemed to grow two sizes bigger as she processed the information. "You what?" She asked in utter shock. Lacy merely nodded, so Tina pressed her further. "I want all the details, now. Spill it."

Sliding down into a seat next to her, Lacy told her everything. Sparing nothing, not even the explicit details of their union.

"Is it okay for me to be jealous? I know I'm an old married woman and all, but seriously, I am SO jealous of you!"

"You have eyes Tina, it's okay for you to look and appreciate a fine specimen when you see one, that doesn't make you an old married woman."

Tina shrugged, "If you say so."

"Ladies, what's with all the idle chit chat," Shelly commented, as she strolled up and grabbed a stack of charts off Tina's desk. "Isn't your break about over Lacy? And Tina, room one is about to have a new occupant." She motioned in the direction of the room, "hop to it."

Lacy rolled her eyes, "I was just getting ready to leave Shelly, cool your jets."

Shelly bristled a little, but didn't reply. She and Lacy were good friends, so she knew she hadn't meant any harm, but she was in charge after all.

"Lacy had sex with Donovan Pierce," Tina said, quickly picking up a chart and rushing off to see to her new patient. She barely got by Lacy who gasped and raised a hand at her as if to smack her.

Cocking an eyebrow in her direction, Shelly reached out and used a hand to urge Lacy back to her own station. They were in the elevator before she finally spoke.

"I knew you had a thing for him." She said punching a button as the doors closed.

Lacy huffed indignantly, "I do not have a thing for Donovan!"

Shelly didn't say another word, and as the elevator doors opened to their department, she went in the direction opposite the nurse's station, merely giving Lacy a look that said she wasn't buying it.

I do not have a thing for Donovan! Lacy repeated in her head. Did she? Sure the date had been great, and the sex, well the sex was more than just mind blowing, it was the life-altering variety. Lacy wasn't sure she'd ever meet another man that could play her as well as Donovan had. Like a finely tuned instrument, his fingers had slid expertly over her body and plucked all the right cords.

Suppressing a shudder, Lacy tried to concentrate on her job rather than her incredible memory of the other night. They'd had sex. That's all it was. Everyone could twist things however they wanted to, Lacy wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, though. She shook her head, a thing for Donovan. Ha! Yeah right!

The next couple of weeks passed quickly, and in a blur for both of them. They had dinner or lunch, whatever was easier at least twice each week, Donovan even went with Lacy to her parents' house one night.

It was nice, her mother Carrie, a feisty redhead showed Donovan just where that attitude had come from, and her stepfather, George silently looked him over at the dinner table, and he was anything but subtle as he sized Donovan up.

The conversation had been pretty light considering, Donovan talked mostly about hockey, and the upcoming playoffs, it turned out that George was a pretty big fan, and the two got along famously once George decided that Donovan was alright.

Later, alone outside with Lacy's mother, while George had gone off to pick up Kelsey from a friend's house and Lacy needed to use the bathroom, Carrie let on that Donovan was the first man Lacy had ever brought home. However, after dropping the bomb, she gave little insight as to why that was, a shrug of her shoulder seemed to suffice in her mind, and then she asked that he not hurt her little girl.

Donovan tried not to put too much stock into having been invited to Lacy's parent's home. Because hadn't she told him not to? Explaining it all away as she had forgotten they had dinner planned, and he might as well come along. But damn if he didn't feel like he was finally getting through to her.

In the five or six times they'd hooked up again, she hadn't spent the night at his house yet, pretty much leaving as soon as the deed was done, but to bring him there, to open herself up just a little bit, it had to mean something right?

The game was about to start, though, and Donovan needed to clear his head. Lacy, and all thoughts about their relationship had to wait, he had a game to win.

As Donovan flew down the ice, the clocking ticking down the final forty seconds of the game, his team down one, he caught up to the puck just as the linesman picked up his whistle intending to call icing on the Slashers. Donovan rounded the net, flinging the puck out to the blue line where Dean was waiting, Baudin had been pulled, they had a man advantage, but if they didn't make something happen soon, well, they'd lose the two points they desperately needed to stay ahead of the pack. He finally had his head in the game, they couldn't lose now.

It was taking longer than the coach had expected to get the new players integrated into the lineup properly, they'd lost their last three games, and the rest of the eastern conference was hot on their tails. If they wanted to maintain home ice throughout the playoffs, at least until the finals, because if Chicago made it there as well, being that they had already more than earned the top spot and they'd get home ice, then they needed these two points. One at the very least. Going away empty handed just wasn't going to cut it.

Dean passed the puck to Andre, who flung it back out to center where Peter was open and looking for a shooting lane. Donovan crept in front of the net, doing what he did best and providing a screen. Peter faked, once, twice, then shot one in, it glanced off the right post and luckily back out and onto the stick of Andre who with a slap shot put it back in front of the net. Donovan redirected it, giving it the extra push it needed, and in it went, ten whole seconds before the final buzzer would sound.

Screaming, Donovan glided up the ice, picking up his stick and pretending it was a bow and arrow, shooting into the crowd before gliding over to Andre and smacking him on the back. The home crowd went wild.

The Capitals fought like wild cats in over time. The new three on three format favored the Slashers, though, and two minutes in, Dean got in a nice wrist shot, finding the back of the net with ease. Holtby had just finished a busy week, so his backup was in net tonight. He'd had a pretty good game, but when it came down to it, his teammates had left him out to dry one time too many. So the Slashers won 3-2 in overtime. And God did they ever need that win!

Coach knew he'd finally figured out the right combination, and come playoffs, just a week away, they'd be ready.

As he sat down at his stall and slipped out of his skates, Donovan rotated his shoulders to manipulate the muscles in his back, he was still a little sore at times, but it felt damn good to be playing regularly again.

He'd shaken off most of the rust by now, or well, he should have, at any rate, it'd been damn near two weeks since he'd first laced up again, but there were still times when he was just a fraction of a second slower than he wanted to be. A few more games under his belt and he'd be his old self again. Except for Lacy. She was really getting under his skin lately, and it affected him at times more than he wanted to admit.

"So how are things going with Lacy?" Dean asked, smacking him on the shoulder and taking a seat in his own stall.

"Eh?" Donovan asked, pulling himself out of his postgame fog.

"Amie came by the other night, I guess she'd forgotten to bring her wedding gift to the reception, and wanted to drop it off. She had quite a bit to say about you and Lacy."

"That right?" Donovan replied, pulling his pads up and over his head before wiping the sweat from his brow.

Dean sighed. "Not what you think Donny, just a couple of girls doing what they do best. She's happy for you, really, maybe even a little concerned. Abby thinks Lacy has some serious trust issues, and neither of them wants to see you get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt Dean."

"I hope not. Because it looks like you're already in way over your head."

Cocking his head, Donovan studied his longtime friend and captain. "How do you figure?"

Dean stood to leave, not sure he should answer him, but when he looked at him and saw the questions in his eyes, he thought better of it. "I know what you had with Amie, and this isn't the same."

"Do you now?"

"Don't be an idiot Donny, I know you."

"Okay, so what did I have with Amie then?" He countered, draping a towel around his neck and leaning back against the wall.

"You loved her. Anyone could have seen that, but when you guys broke up, neither of you barely even batted an eyelash."

"And your point?"

"Damn it, Donny, my point is, while you may have loved Amie, neither of you were in love with each other." He walked away then, turning once he reached the door. "I just don't want to see you get hurt man. That's all."

Donovan sat there long after everyone else had left, leaving only once the cleanup crew insisted they couldn't do their jobs until he was gone.

Was Dean right? He asked himself on the drive home. He loved Amie, hadn't he? They had a connection that he hadn't had with another woman before. She was his best friend, and he could have told her anything. A pretty strong foundation to start a relationship on. But had they ever gone beyond that? He wasn't sure. Hadn't he thought he could have married her? Had children with her? Wouldn't he have been perfectly content to spend the rest of his life with Amie at his side?

Weren't those all-important qualities when looking for a mate? Sure, they weren't intimate nearly as often as most couples had been, but that was because they were always traveling, right? Looking back, Donovan wasn't so sure. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe he loved her, but not in a way that had counted. Perhaps that's why neither of them had been hurt by the rumors or the breakup. It kinda made sense when he looked at it that way.

But what did that have to do with Lacy? Sure, he was falling for her, but it couldn't have been that obvious...could it? Lacy had picked up a shift this morning, covering for a friend, so she'd have tomorrow off instead, maybe they should get together. Seems they had a lot to talk about.

Lacy was hesitant about seeing Donovan again so soon, she'd been seeing a lot of him lately. She really was breaking all the rules. But to hell with it. She knocked on his door, a couple of coffees and half a dozen doughnuts in hand, and smiled once he opened it.

Wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a polo that brought out the flecks of green in his eyes, Lacy almost melted on the spot. Forget the doughnuts, she wanted to take a bite out of him. As she entered his apartment, setting her offerings down on the counter in the kitchen, Lacy walked over to where Donovan stood staring after her, and looped her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers into the back of his head, twirling them in his damp hair. He'd obviously just gotten out of the shower, and he smelled phenomenal.

Without needing further invitation, Donovan closed his mouth on hers and all that she offered. The kiss deepened quickly, spiraling out of control as they fought to free each other from their cloth barriers.

Shoes kicked off, shirts discarded, shorts and pants tossed aside, Donovan carried her into the bedroom and soundlessly tossed her on the bed. With a laugh, Lacy's hungry eyes roamed over him, her arms outstretched and reaching for him.

But Donovan shook his head, he came forward slowly, drinking in the sight of her naked body. From her bewitching face with her pursed lips, to the slender curve of her neck and her ample breasts that rode high on her torso, her rosy nipples taut and waiting to be suckled.

He ran a finger down her flat abdomen, causing her to whimper as she flushed under his direct gaze. He trailed fire down her waistline as he looped that finger between her legs and around the sensitive nub that throbbed and pulsed under his touch. Lacy groaned, her eyes pleading with him.

But still, he denied her. Sliding onto the bed, and between her legs, as he parted them, Donovan wrought havoc on her senses. Pleasuring her in ways she hadn't known possible. Doing things with his fingers and mouth that would never have crossed her mind in a million years. And when she came, riding the waves of that powerful orgasm, bucking beneath him, Donovan pressed his tongue to her harder, extending her release.

Once the spasms subsided, once she was finally able to think even the slightest bit clearly again, Lacy pushed Donovan aside, refusing to let him mount her. Instead, she took a firm hold of him, and gave what she had been given.

Donovan let her pleasure him, bring him nearly to the brink of self-destruction, and then when he could hold back no more, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, shoving her back onto the bed and slid into her with the gentlest of ease.

Moaning as he penetrated her, Lacy wrapped her legs around his waist and met him thrust for thrust. Donovan may have set the rhythm, fast then slow, deep then shallow as he shoved into her again and again, but Lacy's thirst for him forced her to not to surrender, but push back, giving as she took her pleasure from him.

Lacy exploded beneath him then, her body holding him tightly as it erupted into a thousand little bolts of electricity, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout her system. Donovan wasn't far behind. With one loud groan, his head went back, and his body let loose, jerking in his release.

Donovan collapsed on top of her, and for a moment, he didn't want to move. The way he felt, still inside of her, his nerve endings raw and exposed, he wanted to savor that, live in that moment. But alas, he knew he was far too heavy and probably crushing her into the mattress, so with a sigh of contentment, he rolled off of her and out of bed, heading for the closet.

After grabbing a pair of gym shorts, he'd actually just come from the rink when she had shown up, and certainly had no intention of getting back into his polo and shorts, he left the bedroom, giving her some privacy. She wasn't going to leave this time; he wouldn't let her keep running away.

Donovan grabbed one of the coffees she had set down, rummaging through the doughnut box and picking up a Boston cream, he then headed over to the couch. He set the coffee on a coaster, and took a bite of the doughnut as he sunk down into the comfortable cushions of the sofa, waiting for Lacy to emerge.

He didn't have to wait long, and though she had borrowed one of his jerseys, she quickly picked up her clothes and went into the guest bath to change. Shame, he thought to himself. She looked pretty good in the Slashers black and white jersey from the Winter Classic last year. Sexy, very sexy indeed. Maybe he'd have to get her to wear that sometime before they made love again.

As he finished the last bite of his pastry and licked the cream from his fingers, Donovan looked towards the bathroom again, waiting for the door to open and wondered what would happen next. Would she leave now that we've had sex? he asked himself, hell, she'd just gotten here, but if sex was all she'd had in mind...

The door to the bathroom opened then, and Lacy came out, looking as she had when she'd first come over, not half an hour ago. She laid his jersey on the back of the love seat, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the other coffee before sitting down in the living room opposite Donovan on the loveseat where she'd put his jersey.

"Well, that was fun." Lacy joked, trying to break the ice. They hadn't spoken a word since she'd come over. Neither one of them realizing that until now.

Donovan laughed, although it seemed a little forced. "We need to talk Lacy."

She cocked an eyebrow, looking for all the world like she wanted to bolt right through the closed door. "Maybe I should go," she finally said.

Donovan stood, blocking her exit, though she hadn't yet stood up herself. "Maybe you should stay."

"Oh?"

"Is this what you think I want Lacy? For you to just come over, fuck me and leave?"

"When you put it like that.." she began, more than just a little uncomfortable. She was way out of her element here. And she wasn't sure how to handle things. "What do you want from me, Donovan?" She asked as though unaffected by him.

"I want to get to know you."

"I see." Lacy crossed one leg over the other. Donovan still stood in front her, he nearly obstructed her view of the door completely. "And here I thought we knew each other quite... intimately."

"That's not what I mean and you damn well know it."

She stiffened. There was such bite to his words, his jaw was clenched. She shouldn't have come here. She had rules when it came to men, for exactly this reason. Rules she had broken repeatedly with Donovan.

"Can't you just stop running for five damn minutes and let me in? Is that really so much to ask." He continued, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for some kind of response. She just kept staring at him, like he'd grown a second head or something.

"Yes, it is." She said quietly. "You have no idea what you're asking me to do."

That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. One minute she was all over him, hot and heavy, melting in his arms, and the next, it was like she iced over, becoming frigid before him.

"I'm in love with you Lacy." There, he'd said it. And he'd be damned if she'd make him regret it. But he could see the shock on her face, read the fear in her eyes.

"Don't.. don't say that Donovan... you don't, you can't mean that."

She didn't allow him to respond, Lacy jumped up from the couch and swiftly moved around him. She would have gotten out the door too, if Donovan hadn't been just a fraction of a second faster than her, grabbing her by the wrist and jerking her around to face him.

"Don't tell me how I feel Lacy," He snapped, God he wanted to shake her, didn't she know what she was doing to him? "I said I love you, and damn it, I meant it."

They stood there for a minute, eyes locked in a battle of wills, "you're hurting me," she finally whispered. Donovan let go and took a step back, blocking her exit once again. She looked down. "I can't give you what you want."

"Can't you even try?"

She looked up again. Near tears.

"No." She wanted to cry, Lacy never cried, not since Derek, but looking into his eyes, the way they searched her face, pleading with her, as if she could see his heart breaking, see herself ripping it into little pieces right in front of him, and yet, she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Why not? Who hurt you, Lacy?" He begged, reaching out to her, then dropping his hand once she flinched.

"That' none of your business Donovan. Now back off." The words were nearly a whisper now, as she fought to maintain control.

He was too close; the room was too small. Her world was closing in on her. God, she just wanted to go to him, let him wrap her in his arms, and tell him everything. She knew she couldn't do that, though. Donovan for all his differences was a man, and he'd hurt her, maybe not now, but eventually. He'd hurt just like they all had.

"Did you love him then? And he cheated on you? Is that it? Is that what you're afraid of?"

Lacy felt the first tear trickle down her cheek, and when he groaned, when he reached out and wiped it away with such gentleness, she lost it. She hiccupped, and the dam broke, one sob after another, Donovan pulled her into his arms, and though she struggled to get free, he held her.

He held her and rubbed a hand down her back, curled his fingers in her hair, and he said beautiful soothing words in her ear. He vowed he wouldn't hurt her, if only she'd just let him in. But she couldn't. No, how could she? He didn't understand.

When she finally fought off the worst of it, when she gained an ounce of control, Lacy looked up at him, swiping a hand across her face to remove the last of the moisture.

"You're wrong, it wasn't just one man." She said, pushing him aside and escaping out the door.

Stunned, Donovan stood, staring after her, and wondering just what exactly, she had meant.

### Chapter 14

The Other Woman

Donovan headed downtown to Louie's Gym bright and early the next morning. He'd already tried calling Lacy several times, both on her cell and at work. She was off today, and her cell went right to voicemail. Either she'd shut it off or she was screening calls and rejecting his. And since they'd always hooked up at his place, which, really was fine with him, he didn't know where she lived, had never in fact been there at all. He supposed he should be angry about that too, the fact that she continued to keep all these parts of her life private from him, but he just figured her place was a wreck, or maybe that she had a roommate.

Now he wondered, though, and his thoughts weren't good ones either. Lacy hadn't opened up to him even the slightest little bit, aside from taking him home to meet her family, though they seemed to be just as guarded as she was. So, for all he knew, she lived with a man, or she was married and just didn't wear a ring given her profession and all.

Of course, that was crazy talk. Her mother had said Donovan was the first man she'd ever brought home, and surely that wouldn't have been the case if she were married or at the very least cohabiting with a man. No, Lacy obviously preferred keeping certain parts of her life to herself.

Or maybe it was the fact that if she went to his place, she could leave at will, but if she invited him to her place, he might not leave when she was done with him. Which was a distinct possibility and made the most sense to him.

That was Lacy after all.

So, in hopes that she didn't vary from her routine, he headed for Louie's. But she wasn't there. He was just about to leave when he heard a soft feminine voice gasp behind him.

"Oh my gosh, you're Donovan Pierce."

He turned to find an attractive, but rather small and impish looking woman staring up at him in awe. Great, a fan. He wasn't in the mood for this. Of course, far be it for him to be rude to a fan, he could just see the headlines on that one!

So he plastered on his best smile, hoping it didn't seem as forced as it felt. "So I am," he said, holding out a hand to the curvaceous creature.

She took it, blushing as she still held her other hand to her mouth. "I'm Tina," she gushed, finally finding her nerve. "Gosh, I was hoping I'd get to meet you, and here you are!"

"Here I am." He replied, still smiling though he was now thoroughly confused and growing more impatient by the second.

Releasing his hand, Tina wiped one plump hand across her chest in a nervous gesture. "I'm sorry, how silly of me. I'm a friend of Lacy's."

Donovan's annoyance fell away, the corner of his mouth quirking at one end, nearly knocking the breath right out of Tina, my God he was handsome!

"A friend of Lacy's?" He said, using a hand to gesture to the nearby bench, "Would you mind if we sat down for a few minutes?"

Tina shook her head, dropping her bags near the bench and unconsciously licking her lips. I'm a married woman, I'm a married woman, I'm a married woman. She had to say it a few times to herself as he sat down next to her, looking simply delicious.

"Tina, I'm looking for Lacy, have you seen her?"

She shook her head. She'd just regained control from her star struck state of mind, but now, being in such close proximity to him, feeling the heat of his palm as it rested on her shoulder, gosh, is this what Lacy felt? The man practically oozed sexuality.

Donovan frowned. "Can I ask you something, Tina?" He looked away.

As his intense gaze focused on the door instead of her, Tina breathed a sigh of relief, wrung her hands together a couple of times, and got a grip on herself. She was a married woman after all. "Ssure," she stammered, still not quite in control of her speech.

"Can you tell me who hurt Lacy?"

Now it was Tina's turn to frown. "What do you mean? I saw Lacy earlier this morning, she seemed fine to me."

"You saw her this morning? Where?"

"We had coffee together, then she said she was going to go jogging at home, maybe do some shopping. What did you mean by who hurt her? I don't understand." Her speech flowed freely now, her concern for Lacy outweighing her raging hormones.

"What? I'm sorry, I didn't mean physically. I just, you're her friend, and we had an argument the other day, she's so damn closed up, she won't let me in."

"And you thought that maybe she would have told me about it?"

Donovan nodded.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Donovan." Tina sighed, biting her lip as she watched his heart drop before her eyes. The light in his eyes fading.

"She won't confide in me Tina, please, won't you help me?"

She shook her head, "It's not that I don't want to." She admitted, the pleading look on his face was breaking her into pieces. How it was that Lacy could withstand a look like that, she didn't know. She wanted to bare her own soul to him if it would help. "I've seen the change in Lacy since the two of you got together, she's never been happier, and if there was anything I could tell you that could keep that smile on her face, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But the truth is, Lacy doesn't let anyone in, it's not just you."

"So she's never told you anything? Anything at all? No ex-boyfriends to rant about?"

"No." She continued to shake her head, trying to think back over the years, but nothing came to her. "Have you tried talking to her parents? Lacy said you went to dinner with her one night, that her parents really liked you. Maybe they could help you."

Feeling defeated, he gave a loud sigh. "No, I don't think they'd tell me anything, Carrie and George seemed awfully protective of Lacy."

"Hmm... what about her father?"

"Her father?"

"Yeah, her father," She said, sitting up a little straighter. "I've never heard her talk about her father, though, I know he isn't dead. You think he has something to do with all of this?"

Donovan narrowed his eyes, deep in though, he began to nod a little. "You might be onto something Tina." He stood so quickly then, startling Tina before grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it, "I have to go, thank you, Tina."

"You're welcome," she called after him, watching in a quiet state of shock as he hurried through the door and out of her sight.

Breathing deeply, sucking in lungfuls of air as she slowed to a stop, Lacy bent over, hands on her hips, waiting for her blood pressure to stabilize. She'd run five miles today, and damn had it felt good. She really needed to do it more often.

After the other day, the fight with Donovan, she'd tried and failed several times to get him off her mind. She had hoped a good long run would finally get him out of her system. She had been wrong, again. The fresh air, the open trail before her, the trees, the birds, it served as the perfect backdrop for thinking, and with only one thing on her mind, she had a hard time thinking about anything else.

Was she wrong to keep such secrets from him? Should she finally tell him about Derek? About her father? The hell of it was, she wanted to. She was just afraid, and she couldn't decide exactly what it was she was afraid of. Did she honestly think he wouldn't want her anymore if he knew the truth? It wasn't exactly her fault what either of those men had done to her. So why should he think less of her for it?

Or was it that she was afraid if she voiced her concerns that they would repeat themselves? History often did that, didn't it? Was she really so naive to think that keeping such things to herself would prevent them from happening to her again? Lacy shook her head. No, she wasn't an idiot. If Donovan proved to be unfaithful it wouldn't have anything to do with her past.

Then why was she so damned afraid? He loved her, that's why. And maybe that didn't make sense to some people, but to Lacy, every man that had ever said he loved her, had betrayed her. Why should Donovan be any different?

Lucky for Donovan, he had a cousin in private investigations, not that he couldn't have gotten the information himself, it was just public records after all, but going to Arthur certainly made things easier. Once he got past all the grumbling and his cousins pissing and moaning that is. He was a busy man, and why couldn't Donovan just get the information himself? he had asked none too politely. "Because you can get it faster." Donovan had replied, which was apparently good enough for Arthur, who called him back an hour later with the information he wanted. Thank God for family.

He had to remember to send him a couple of tickets or something to see the Blue Jays. Arthur didn't care for hockey, but he loved baseball, even if the Blue Jays weren't looking like much of a team so far this year. Hell, spring training was just getting started, maybe they'd get better.

Donovan high-tailed it to the airport, catching the first flight out to North Carolina. After renting a car and driving an hour south, here he was, parked in the driveway belonging to one, Frank Johnson. Lacy's biological father.

Looking up at the charming craftsman style home, with its red shutters and blue door, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was to come. He had no idea why he was here, or what he hoped to find out for that matter, but it was a start. He knew there was something here. He was sure of it.

Donovan knocked on the door, using the large brass knocker, and waited nervously for someone to answer, he only hoped that Frank was home.

"Are things alright between you and Donovan?" Tina asked.

They were sitting outside on the terrace of one of their favorite cafe's, Tina had gone straight to Lacy's house after her conversation with Donovan, and after much debate, finally convinced her to have dinner with her. Lacy had wanted some time to herself, so no lunch wasn't a good idea, but sure, she'd join her for dinner.

Lacy cocked her head to the side, as if to study her friend. "Sure. Why do you ask?"

Tina shrugged, "no reason I guess." Letting the matter drop. She knew that look, Lacy was all closed up, just as Donovan had said she was, and pressing her for answers wasn't going to get her anywhere. Best not to even try.

The door opened slowly at first, a woman's voice yelling from behind it, and then all at once she stepped onto the threshold, looking Donovan over with the utmost scrutiny. She was a handsome woman, a word Donovan hadn't thought to ever apply to a woman, but it seemed to suit her. She was on the shorter side, though when she squared her shoulders she appeared anything but small, and she wore a charcoal pantsuit, with a light blue blouse underneath.

Her reddish brown hair was streaked with gray, and worn in a tight knot at the back of her head, and her eyes, a light brown, seemed to spear through him like a laser beam. "Can I help you?" she asked, pursing her thin lips into an even tighter line.

"I'm looking for Frank Johnson."

She tapped a finger against the door jam, staring at him another moment before yelling over her shoulder, "Frank, someone here to see you." As he heard a man's voice asking who it was, she gave Donovan another of those thorough needlepoint gazes, "from the looks of him, he might be one of yours!" She shouted back, then turned a smile on Donovan, startling him somewhat. "What's your name boy?" She asked.

"It's um, It's Donovan Pierce."

"Are you one of Frank's boys? Come to find your father have you?"

Donovan almost laughed, "No ma'am, my parents live in Canada."

"Harrumph," she huffed, "well don't just stand there, come on in." She said, stepping aside so he could enter.

As he entered the house, taking stock of the foyer and the gleaming staircase that curved to the second floor with its vaulted ceilings and crown molding, Donovan had to admit he was impressed and he wondered what kind of work Mr. Frank Johnson did.

His hostess led him into a sitting room off to the right, indicating he should take a seat, and yelling for Frank again before choosing to sit down in a high-backed chair opposite the floral love seat Donovan had chosen.

"You sure you ain't one of Frank's? Your coloring is about right. And he traveled to Canada plenty over the years." She was staring at him again, and there was nothing subtle about it either.

Chuckling, as he couldn't seem to hold it back any longer, Donovan said, "yes, ma'am, I can I assure you, Frank Johnson is not my father."

Frank walked in then, and Donovan could understand the woman's concern. He was a tall man, with wide shoulders and a trim waist, obviously took good care of himself. He had ash blonde hair and light green eyes. Donovan stood upon his entrance, thinking it the polite thing to do, giving the man pause as he looked Donovan over, turning to his wife.

"Patricia, I don't know what this man has told you, but I swear he isn't mine."

It was certainly an interesting way to start a conversation, Donovan thought, suppressing a grin.

"So he says Frank," Patricia said, giving her husband what he assumed was a calming smile. "This is Donovan Pierce; I didn't ask him why he's here. He asked for you." She stood, nodding to Donovan and leaving the room.

Frank seemed to relax by a few degrees as his wife left the room, giving Donovan the impression that she wore the pants in the family. Donovan extended a hand to Frank who took it and gave him a firm shake.

"What can I do for you Mr...?"

"Pierce, It's Pierce, but please, call me Donovan."

"Alright," Frank nodded, sitting in the seat his wife had vacated only a minute ago and indicating that Donovan should sit as well. "What can I do for you, Donovan?"

"I'm here to talk to you about Lacy."

"Lacy?" He blurted, looking more than just a little confused.

"Your daughter?"

"Yes, of course. Is something wrong with Lacy? Did something happen to her?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Frank folded his hands in his lap, his eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pierce was it?" He said, his tone laced with ice. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're insinuating, but I don't like it. Just what is it that you want from me?"

He was a cool customer for sure, Donovan could see now where Lacy had gotten it from. Her mom, Carrie, had seemed a little high-spirited, feisty even, but not an ounce of the frigid control that Lacy was so good at maintaining.

"I've been seeing your daughter for some time now Mr. Johnson." He began, in an attempt to put the man at ease again.

"So you've come for my blessing then is that it? You've lost me, Mr. Pierce."

"It's Donovan, please, and no, I've come to ask you about your relationship with your daughter."

"There you go again, confusing the hell out of me. You'd better just get to the point young man; I don't appreciate being toyed with."

Donovan could all but feel the ice spitting out of his eyes as they narrowed to slits, Frank was not a patient man.

"When was the last time you spoke to your daughter Mr. Johnson?"

"Eleven years ago. But if you're dating my daughter as you claim to be, then I'm sure she's told you this. So why are you asking all of these questions? What's your angle?"

Donovan sighed, he was getting nowhere fast. Time to lay it all out on the line. "There are certain aspects of your daughter's life, Mr. Johnson, that she refuses to talk about."

"You mean me? And call me Frank."

"Okay, Frank, yes, I mean you. She hasn't said a word about you, not that you exist, not even your name."

He was stunned for a moment. His face went pale, his expressive eyes blank. "I see," he finally said. "Then how did you find me, if she didn't tell you where to look? And for that matter, why?"

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Donovan decided to tread lightly, he hadn't been sure of Lacy's relationship with her father, but now, after hearing how long it had been since she'd even spoken to him, he almost felt sorry for the man.

"I'm a professional hockey player. In my line of work, I have plenty of assets at my disposal, so if there's anything I need, anything I want to know, it's not hard to come by such information."

"A hockey player huh?" Frank seemed at ease again, interested even. "What team do you play for? I like the Panthers myself, I grew up in Florida."

"I play for the Slashers."

"I thought your name sounded familiar, so, Donovan, just what is it I can help you with? What are you after?"

Leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, Donovan told him about his relationship with Lacy, how they met, how hard headed she was, stubborn even, and how long it had taken him to convince her to go out with him. He admitted to Frank that he was hopelessly in love with his daughter, and that he needed to know why Lacy was so against getting any more involved with him, that he thought perhaps Frank was the key. Since Lacy dared not talk about him.

Frank listened intently, his eyes going a bit wide when Donovan announced his desire to marry Lacy, but he waited until Donovan was finished before speaking, his elbows on the arms of the chair, his hands fisted in front of his face.

"I like you, Donovan," he began, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair now, and looking decidedly uncomfortable. "It took guts to come out here and talk to me. A damn good quality in a man. So I'm going to be straight with you. I fucked up."

Donovan had to keep his jaw from dropping. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, "I mean I fucked up. I'm the reason she doesn't want to get involved with you Donovan. I'm sorry. I need something to drink, would you like anything?"

Donovan shook his head.

"I'll be right back then." Frank stood, heading into the attached dining room and disappearing around a corner.

Stunned by his confession, but utterly confused as well, Donovan sat there and stared at nothing in particular. A slight movement caught his eyes, and for an instant, he could have sworn he saw Lacy climbing the stairs in the foyer. But no, it couldn't have been Lacy, and the hair, the hair was all wrong.

She turned at the top of the stairs to get one last look at the stranger in her house before bounding down the hall, and Donovan was able to see then that there were more differences between her and Lacy than just the hair. Hers was blonde, and while he knew Lacy's was naturally that color too, there were other things. The girl's eyes had been blue, her mouth thin, like Patricia's and while she definitely had the same stubborn chin as Lacy, her face was fuller, her eyes slanted.

But he'd be damned if they weren't related. Her half-sister perhaps? Patricia's daughter? But gosh, she had to be what sixteen? Seventeen? Just how old was Lacy when her parents split?

Frank's words came back to him then. I fucked up. How? How had he fucked up? Had he cheated on Lacy's mother? Gotten another woman pregnant? He could certainly see something like that having a tremendous effect on Lacy, especially if she had been old enough to understand it.

Frank came back in, setting a coke on the table beside the chair, he sighed, then took a deep breath.

"I was twenty-two when I met Lacy's mother. She had just started college, wanted to be a teacher. And damned if I didn't fall head over heels as soon as our eyes met." He sat back in the chair, getting comfortable as he traveled back in time, exposing all his secrets, to a mere stranger at that.

"I was a pizza delivery driver," he snorted. "I delivered a pizza to her dorm room one night, she forgot to tip me, but I didn't care, I'd charmed her phone number out of her, that was tip enough. We tried to keep it casual, I knew I wasn't any good for her. She came from a good family, my mother died when I was little, my father was a mechanic, and me, I didn't have a care in the world. I drove a beat up mustang that my dad and I dreamed up fixing up one day, and I was perfectly content to be a pizza delivery boy, working in my dad's garage during the day. No ambitions, no future."

To hear him tell it, he had honestly felt like Lacy's mother had deserved better. It almost broke Donovan's heart, and he could tell, by the defeat in Frank's' eyes that the story certainly didn't have a happy ending. At least not for Lacy.

"There was just something about Carrie though, the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to make her happy. Despite everything, I just had to have her. You know what I mean?" He asked, moving on before Donovan could answer. "Of course you do, you wouldn't be here otherwise. Anyways, I got up the courage, and I asked her to marry me. Surprisingly, though I didn't have a nickel to my name, she said yes, and we eloped. Pissed her family off so bad they practically disowned her. We didn't care, though.

Once we were married she couldn't live in the dorms anymore, so she moved into the little apartment above my dad's shop with me. It wasn't much, but it was home. With a wife to support, I finally pulled my head out of my ass and got a job with a trucking company a friend of my father's owned. I started raking in the dough, so Carrie didn't have to worry about working, she just stayed in school.

She graduated, got a teaching job at the local elementary school, and I moved up in the company, we bought a little house, and then we had Lacy."

"Sounds like a dream come true."

"It was."

"So what happened?"

Frank shrugged like it was no big deal. "I fucked it all up." If it weren't for the sadness in his eyes, Donovan might have thought the man was a little cold hearted. He might have tried to play it off like it didn't matter, and maybe parts of it didn't, but there was pain in his expression, Donovan could all but feel it.

With a sigh, Frank continued. "My route ran right through North Carolina, I stopped frequently at a rest area that connected to this nice little motel and diner. And that's where I met Patricia."

The picture was slowly coming together now. He could almost see it. Carrie, young, happy, with a teaching job, a newborn, and a cheating husband.

"I tried to stop myself, it was damn near a year before I finally took her up on her offer, but when I crossed that line, there was no going back. I had never cheated on Carrie before that, in our first five years of marriage, I was completely devoted to her. But once Lacy was born, things changed. Maybe I wasn't cut out to be a daddy, it sure felt that way at first. I just couldn't stand the crying, the up all nights."

"But that's what babies do Mr. Johnson."

He shook his head, "Lacy was a fussy one, though, always colicky. I wasn't home often as it was, and then I barely got any sleep, and forget about sex, Carrie was too busy. She had her students, her lesson plans, taking care of the house since I was never there. And then Lacy. Everything else came first. And I know it should have been that way, but that doesn't mean it didn't piss me off any less. I'd come home, have to do the maintenance, mow the lawn, all I wanted was a little time alone with Carrie. But I never got it.

So I threw myself into my job. I worked hard, and then I worked harder. I was always on the road. And when I met Patricia, I never intended to have an affair."

"But you did."

"But I did." He nodded, taking a swallow of coke and licking his lips before he continued. "Patricia didn't know about Carrie, or Lacy for that matter. And I know what kind of man that makes me, so don't say it. It was what it was, though. At first, it was just a harmless flirtation. I enjoyed the attention. Patricia was so very different from Carrie. She was wild and funny, outrageous, and bold. Carrie had a temper mind you, but she kept it under control mostly, and she could be so cold at times."

Donovan cut him off, "funny, I figured Lacy got that from you."

Frank glared at him, then shook his head. "No. Lacy is like her mother. I may be a little reserved at times, but I'll tell you what's on my mind. Carrie likes to keep things locked away. Which is exactly why Patricia was like a breath of fresh air. And as hard as I fell for Carrie, I fell even harder for Patricia. Oh, I tried to be noble, I tried to end it, with both women. Carrie put Lacy under my nose, told me I dare not walk out on her, whatever problems we had could be fixed, you just didn't throw away a marriage. And I wanted to believe her.

So I tried to end the affair instead, only to find out that Patricia was pregnant with our son, James. So I lived a double life. I put Patricia up in an apartment, helped her pay the bills, and when she got pregnant with Annabelle, I bought the company I had all but been running anyways, made her my manager, remotely of course, and bought her a house."

"And Carrie never suspected a thing?"

"Not at first." He said, scratching his chin as he thought pensively about the past. "Lacy wasn't as difficult a child as she had been as a baby. Things were easier. I was still gone just as much, pretty much spending one week with Carrie and the next with Patricia, I rotated it that way, holidays too. Neither woman questioned me. As far as Carrie knew, I had bought a hub in North Carolina, which explained the house that Patricia and the kids lived in, and I had to check on things there regularly. And since my business was based in Florida, I had the same excuse for Patricia."

"Sounds like you had all your bases covered then," Donovan remarked, Frank looked at him sheepishly. "So where did it all go wrong?"

"James had an accident at school, broke his arm falling from the monkey bars. I was in Florida at the time, and Patricia had left word on the office machine. I had two cell phones at the time, they'd just become popular you know, and she was supposed to call me on that line only, but she didn't that time for whatever reason. Carrie was in the office, cleaning up for me, and she heard it. Threw me out of the house that very night and demanded a divorce. There was no changing her mind about it either. Lacy overheard the whole conversation, she was fourteen at the time, hasn't spoken to me since."

It made sense. It all made sense. Finding out your father had been living a double life was certainly a good reason to hate men.

"And what about Patricia? You two seem to be pretty happy, what, she just forgave you?"

Patricia poked her head in about that time, snorting as she walked over to where her husband sat and leaned up against the back of the chair, her fingers curling in his hair.

"I damn near beat the shit out him." She said, looking down as Frank looked up, the two of them smiling at each other. "But yeah, I forgave him." She looked back at Donovan, who stunned, sat there slack jawed as he took it all in. "I know he tried to do right, by both of us. And he admitted he hadn't slept with Carrie in a long time, not before me, and not after. She just hadn't wanted to divorce him."

"And you believed him?" Donovan was thoroughly intrigued now.

"Damn right I believed him!" She replied indignantly. "It took me some time to figure it out, but when Frank lies, he gets this little tic in his right eye. When I asked him about Carrie, he was honest, so I forgave him. And we got married as soon as the ink was dry."

Wow. Donovan had thought to himself on the flight home. Frank had made a mess of his own life. And the lives of all his children, but damned if he didn't seem happy. Armed with the truth now, Donovan had no idea what to do next. He could certainly understand why Lacy was so guarded and so hesitant to get involved. He couldn't blame her in the least. But he still had questions and no idea how to get those answers. Lacy had said there were two men. But Frank couldn't give him any insight into what she had meant.

He'd lost contact with her at the age of fourteen. She hadn't been into boys at that time to his knowledge, and they'd been close. Despite his relationship with her mother, Lacy and Frank had been like two peas in a pod. Until he fucked it all up that is. He did, however, have a good relationship with James and Annabelle. They loved him, and he adored them, doted on them. And as for Patricia, he couldn't be happier with her, she was truly the yin to his yang.

He admitted that he continuously tried to get in touch with Lacy, letters, cards, emails, the occasional flowers, but if it didn't get returned, he didn't get a response at all. He asked Donovan if he might be willing to talk to Lacy for him, seeing as he had given him all the information he'd asked for and everything. But Donovan didn't know how he felt about that. Told him he'd have to think about it, but thanked him for his time.

Even knowing what he had done to Lacy, Donovan couldn't help but like the man.

### Chapter 15

Her own Medicine

Lacy had decided to let the little argument they'd had fall by the wayside. Perhaps Donovan had forgotten about it by now. Maybe he'd come to his senses and realized he'd been too hasty in saying that he loved her. Maybe he would just let it go. So she called him up one night and invited him over, something else she never did, and yet, didn't think to question.

Donovan had played his last game of the season the night before, he had tonight off, after practice finished that is, and then he'd start his first game of the playoffs against Boston on Monday. He told her he'd be pretty busy over the next few weeks, so tonight was pretty much all he had. Which was fine with her, since she'd had to switch back to the night shift and would be working the next three nights straight.

She wasn't going to talk about what had happened, and she hoped he wouldn't either.

Lacy ordered pizza from one of her favorite places, and it came shortly after Donovan did, breaking up the silence that had fallen between them after she gave him the grand tour, which took little more than a couple of minutes since her entire apartment could practically fit into just one of Donovan's rooms.

They ate, the mood slightly less awkward than she had imagined it would be, and then curled up on the couch together to watch some TV.

As the hour grew late, Lacy's nerves drew tighter and tighter, like the string of a bow, and she didn't know how much more she could take before her self-control snapped. He hadn't made a move the entire night. Not once. Had barely said two words to her, let alone touched her beyond the friendly snuggle on the couch. She didn't understand it. Couldn't fathom this sudden change in him. Was he really that mad at her? And why did she even care?

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Lacy turned in his arms and stared at him. Glowered at him really, boring her eyes into his. Daring him to make a move.

Donovan laughed, "what's that look for?" he chuckled.

She didn't answer him.

She laced her fingers around the back of his head instead, pulling his mouth down until it met hers, crushing him in a kiss so powerful he nearly choked. But he didn't pull away. Donovan upped the ante instead.

In a violent surge of passion, he exploded, pulling her underneath himself and tearing at her clothes. In seconds they were both completely naked, and battling each other for control.

Lacy lost in the end as Donovan parted her thighs and plundered her with his thick shaft, filling her. He consumed her mouth, and every other inch of skin his lips could find.

Lacy dug her nails into his back, then laced her fingers into the damp curls on his head as he ravaged her neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking on her flesh.

Arching her back, she met him thrust for thrust, pushing each other to the brink of sanity, to the edge of passion and pleasure. It didn't take long for either of them to find release, their bodies straining against each other as they sought the cataclysmic bolt of electricity that would end their pleasurable torment. Lacy erupted in a fit of desire, her legs wrapping around him as she rode the tidal wave that consumed her.

Lost in her response, the wild and primitive mating of their bodies, Donovan's body jerked, spasm after spasm of raw need wracking his body as he collapsed on top of her, emptying himself into her.

After a few minutes, where neither of them moved, Donovan finally rolled over enough to let her up, and collapsed back down onto the couch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

It had never been that way for him before. Taking a woman like that. So greedily, so rough. He almost hated himself for it. No matter that Lacy had initiated it, he should have been more gentle with her. Especially after what he had found out a couple of days ago from her father. He was ashamed of himself, almost embarrassed.

Finally, able to control his breathing, he reached for his jeans, slipping them on and sliding his feet into his shoes as he picked up his shirt. Lacy had gone into her bedroom, and when she came out, he thought he would die.

She wore a pink silk robe about her waist, she looked stunning in it with her glasses off so that her eyes sparkled in the light, and her hair askew, her long legs flexing as she walked towards him. But it wasn't her body or the way that the robe hugged all the right places that was his undoing. It was the look in her eyes, the vulnerability. The, what was it, fear? He just wanted to reach out to her, he did reach out to her, and she took a step back.

She was just out of reach. Always just out of reach.

They'd shared a passion just now, a desire that was so fundamental and primal and yet, she closed down the minute their bodies separated. It was no more than an animalistic urge to her. They hadn't spoken of his declaration of love, hadn't spoken much at all for that matter, and it bothered him. Hell, it hurt, it damn near broke his heart to be so close to her and still be held at arm's length.

Donovan walked closer, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I should get going," he said, simply and to the point. Just how she wanted it.

Lacy stood and watched him leave, watched him walk out the door, just like that. Just how she wanted him to. And for the first time, she wondered why.

The Slashers swept the Boston Bruins in the first round of the Atlantic Division Playoffs. They won the first two games at home 3-2 and 4-1. Then they traveled to Boston where they shut them down in their own arena, winning the first in overtime and the second being a shutout. Donovan had five goals and three assists. He nearly had a hat-trick in the last game.

They got a few days' rest as their next opponent, the Tampa Bay Lightning, would have to take the Detroit Red Wings to a game seven before ultimately winning, and injuring one of their star players in the process.

Donovan hadn't seen Lacy. She had a three-day stretch where she worked twelve hours a night, and his games were every other day that week, but they had talked a couple of times. If felt stiff, she seemed off, her tongue had less bite to it, her attitude almost paltry. He didn't understand it.

He didn't think it had anything to do with the fight from over a week ago, or the erotically charged sex they'd had on her couch, but he couldn't be sure. And given Lacy's penchant for clamming up, he wasn't inclined to ask what was bugging her.

Lacy hadn't felt like herself since taking a tumble on the couch with Donovan. Something was bugging her about him, but she couldn't figure it out. Didn't want to figure it out if she were being honest. No, that was a lie.

She'd tried not to get involved with him from the get-go. She'd rebuffed his advances, she turned him down over and over, and when she did finally give in to the point of having sex with Donovan, she was clear on the boundaries.

She'd broken a lot of rules for Donovan. And she hadn't regretted it, until now. This was exactly why she didn't let a man get this close. Donovan had told her he loved her. And then he acted indifferent once she didn't share his feelings.

She didn't need this crap. She didn't need a man that got all emotional on her, one that thought about marriage and children and white picket fences! She didn't need Donovan Pierce, and she certainly didn't need the damn flowers and tickets he had sent her this morning! Damn the man, she thought he'd taken the hint!

Lacy had been sorely tempted to throw the flowers away, and give the tickets to Tina, but then she got the phone call, and it was a game changer.

Donovan and the Slashers won the first home game against the Lighting, beating them 2-1, but now, during the second intermission of the second game in the series, they sat in the locker room getting their asses handed to them by Coach Turski, as he ripped them over and over. They needed to get their heads in the game, out of each other's asses, start blocking some shots, losing home ice advantage was not an option.

And they all knew it.

Going into the third period, down by two, everyone got in line and down to business.

Net front presence was a big thing for Donovan, and he made sure Bishop, the Lightning Goaltender, got a good look at the back of his jersey for the rest of the game. Dean and Andre, who had been pulled up to the first line to see if he could make an impact and get things going, continuously pelted the net, slinging pucks left and right toward Bishop every time their line was on the ice.

Finally, with two minutes remaining, Dean faked a shot and sent a pass across the front of the blue line to where Donovan was just rushing up the ice from the bench, connecting with the puck and flinging his wrist shot just wide of the net to where Andre had been providing a screen, he then redirected the puck and pushed it through the five hole.

Just like that, they were back in the game. Pulling Francois, they managed to keep Tyler Johnson and the triplets at bay, tying it up just before the clock fell under thirty seconds, and taking it into overtime.

Since it was the playoffs, they got a twenty-minute intermission, and God did they need the rest. Not that they were going to get it.

No sooner did Donovan sit down at his stall and remove his skates to rub his sore feet did Lacy come charging into the locker room, fire spitting from her eyes, her sexy little pout curled into a snarl, an usher trying to grab hold of her wrist.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" she shouted, pointing a finger in Donovan's face.

Dean and Peter exchanged glances, Coach looked up from his clipboard in astonishment, the entire room was silent.

Donovan stood, snagging her around the elbow and leading a seething Lacy into the attached gym. He was amused more than anything else, though he should have been mortified, and he let her know it.

"I'm Donovan, and you're Lacy. Any more stupid questions?" he quipped once they were alone.

Lacy was breathing hard, barely in control of her emotions, she was spitting mad, beyond pissed off. She was not amused.

"Just who do you think you are Donovan? What gives you the right to intrude on MY LIFE?"

He sat down, pulling off his socks and rubbing his feet, one at a time. "What are you talking about Lacy?" he asked calmly, as if he didn't realize how angry she was. Which only proved to fuel the flames that much more.

"My father Donovan, why did you go see my father?" She spat.

He looked up at her, shocked, though he hid it well, acting as though he were disinterested instead. "I thought you two didn't talk. How did you find out?"

Lacy was completely flabbergasted, how could he be so calm? "My brother called me."

"Your... brother?"

"Look, just because my father is a pig and cheated on my mother doesn't mean I care any less for my brother and sister. How heartless do you think I am?" She was fuming again, shouting and gesturing with her hands. "You have no right to go poking into my private life Donovan!"

"Would you have told me the truth if I had asked?" He held up a hand to cut off her response. "No, don't answer that. I've asked you about your past Lacy, and you gave me no choice, since you weren't going to tell me, I found out on my own."

"You had NO right! If I don't want to tell you that my father was a two-timing bastard, then that's my business! Not yours!"

"Isn't it, though?"

"No, damn it!"

Dean poked his head around the corner then, "hate to break up this little love fest guys, but Donny? Five more minutes man, we gotta get back out on the ice." He said, retreating as soon as Donovan acknowledged him.

"Are we done here?" Donovan asked, still maintaining some semblance of control.

"We are not done here! I want to know why you did it? What did you stand to gain by talking to him?" She demanded, her arms crossed over her chest as she blocked his exit.

"The game Lacy," Donovan began, trying to nudge past her.

She stood firm, "I don't care about your stupid little game Donovan, I want an answer, and you're not leaving until I get one!"

And just like that, he snapped, Donovan grabbed hold of her shoulders, nearly snarling at her. "You won't let me in Lacy, what the hell am I supposed to do? I'm in love with you, and you can't seem to wrap that around that stubborn little head of yours! So yeah, I went looking for answers, and guess what? I found them, and I get it, Lacy. I really do. Your father fucked up ten ways from Sunday. But don't you dare take that out on me!"

Lacy's shoulders slumped a little, her resolve weakening as she stared into his fiery gaze, he'd exploded on her, he'd gone and let her have it, and she was shocked. At a complete loss for words as he continued on his tirade.

"I can't do this anymore Lacy, I give and I give and I give. But no matter how hard I chisel at the ice around your damned heart, it won't break, won't even splinter just a little. What's it going to take Lacy? Huh? What do I have to do?"

Cold hearted, he was calling her cold hearted. Lacy squared her shoulders, shaking him off of her and taking a step back. She stood ramrod straight and puffed up her chest as she met his eyes again. "Don't you dare talk to me that way."

Donovan threw his hands up in defeat. "What are you so afraid of Lacy? Do you think I'm going to abandon you just like your father did? Leave you pregnant and alone? Cheat on you? Let me tell you something, and make no mistake," he said walking towards her again, and coming shoulder to shoulder with her, "I'm not your father Lacy."

And then he left.

Lacy stood there long after he had gone. His words echoing in her head. I'm not your father Lacy. She could hear the crowd, the sounds of the game as overtime started.

She finally made her way to the back of the arena, exiting the building and walking around to where she had parked.

She had been so mad when her brother had called her. Beyond all reason when he had told her that Annabelle had seen Donovan talking to their father. How could he do this to her? Why would he do this to her?

Because he wanted answers and she wouldn't give them to him. It was simple really, and it made plenty of sense. But it still pissed her off. He should have come to her, not gone behind her back and tracked down her father. She didn't even want to know how he'd managed that one. She guessed with enough money you could get just about all information you wanted.

That wasn't the point, though, he didn't bother to ask her about her father, he just went straight to the source, and that was a sort of betrayal in her eyes.

No, that wasn't right, he had asked, several times, but he should have taken no for an answer! When she was ready, she would have told him about it.

If she was ever ready. She'd already started moving away from Donovan though, hadn't she?

Donovan took his rage out into the rink, blasting the puck down the ice and into the net before Bishop ever even had a chance to lay eyes on it. Overtime lasted a mere twenty-five seconds. Pissed off and seething, Donovan pumped his fist in the air as his shot went in and then flew off the ice, heading for the locker room. He didn't participate in any of the celebrations that night.

Lacy had left, he'd figured as much, and he was glad she had gone. He didn't know what he would have done if he'd seen her just then. Ring her neck perhaps. Or give her the good shaking she needed. God, the woman infuriated him! And yet, he couldn't help but love her more. When her eyes lit up the way they did when she was angry, she was never more beautiful.

Stiff-backed and slinging insults was how he liked her best. She was at her most passionate then, her most vulnerable. But as angry as he was, now was not the time to be around her. It wasn't just the fact that she had come bursting into the locker room, effectively embarrassing him in front of all his teammates, it wasn't the fact that his anger could have cost them the game, because it hadn't, it wasn't even the fact that she had outright accused him of betraying her.

No, none of that really pissed him off. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that after all that, Lacy was still reluctant to take him at his word. To believe he actually loved her. What was it going to take to get it through that thick skull of hers? He didn't know. And it was becoming high time he let it, and her, go.

But he didn't want to.

He wanted to drive to her place, right now for that matter, grab her by the shoulders and shout at her, tell her he loved her until it sank in. And then he'd make love to her. He'd make love to her all night if that's what it took.

It was a nice thought.

Sighing, Donovan headed for the showers as the rest of the guys poured into the locker room and began to follow suit. No one bothered to approach him. No one dared even look at him really. Despite the wall between the gym and locker room, the door had been open, and they'd all likely heard everything. Knew everything.

And after that angry display of his out on the ice, there was no doubt that he was in a dangerous mood. So everyone, including the coach gave him some breathing room. And he was thankful for it.

He needed to clear his head. As much as he wanted to seek Lacy out, he didn't have time. The team had to be on a plane tomorrow for Tampa. The next two games were at Amalie Arena, so they'd be there for the next three days, leaving directly after the second game as, if it became necessary, game five would be here.

The way Tampa was playing, though, he doubted they'd get another sweep. But nothing was impossible when it came to sports. Donovan knew more than anyone that any team could win any game at any time. It wasn't so much about which team was better all around, but more so which team was better during that game.

On his way home, Donovan finally found a way to get Lacy off his mind, at least for a little while. His mom called to congratulate him on the game, and talking to her, hearing about Steve and how well he was doing, helped Donovan push Lacy to the wayside for now. If only for now.

### Chapter 16

I Screwed Up

Lacy spent the next several days in a foul mood. True to form, she closed herself off from anyone who might have tried to help her make sense of things. She didn't deviate much from routine, though, kept to her classes at the gym, even her daily coffee dates with Tina. And while perhaps people noticed the subtle changes in Lacy, as her anger turned into a growing despair, no one, not even Tina bothered to ask her about it.

It wasn't until one night at her parent's place, after picking up some KFC since George had a couple of night flights scheduled, that the look in Lacy's eyes and the manner in which she carried herself became too much to ignore.

"Lacy, you haven't been yourself lately. What's wrong?" Her mother asked as they cleared the dinner table.

Kelsey, having eaten her fill had gone up to her room to chat with her friends online, leaving the two women alone. Carrie was concerned about her daughter. She'd been more than a little off over the past week, had even missed their usual lunch date. It worried her.

Lacy shrugged, "it's nothing mom, I guess I'm just a little over worked. That's all."

Cocking her head just slightly, Carrie studied Lacy, catching the ever so slight involuntary tic that her father was so famous for. "You're lying. I can see it in your eyes."

"How do you do that? How have you always known when I was lying?" She cried, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Guiding her into the living room and onto the sofa, Carrie sat down beside her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. "Shh..shh.. baby it's okay. Just let it out," she soothed, rubbing her back.

Lacy tried to pull away, but her mother had a firm grip, pushing Lacy's head against her shoulder as she continued to murmur to her and stroke the back of her head while Lacy cried.

She had no idea how much she'd needed this, to be held, to cry. If only someone had forced her to do this sooner. And hadn't Donovan tried? Hadn't he held her just like this, and promised her he'd never hurt her? Thinking about it made things worse, the tears came out faster, the sobs shook her body.

Donovan. So tender, so passionate, so loving. He loved her. And God, she loved him too. What had she done?

"Mama.." she hiccupped, as the tears abated.

Carrie held her by her shoulders but leaned back far enough so that she could see her daughter better. Reaching behind her she grabbed a tissue and wiped at the tears on her little girl's face.

"What is it, baby?"

"Mama, I screwed it all up. Everything, I screwed everything up." Lacy admitted, shaking her head at her own stupidity. "I had the perfect guy, and I screwed it all up. God, I'm just like daddy!"

Carrie placed a finger under her daughter's chin and lifted Lacy's eyes to meet her gaze. "Lacy, listen to me. You are nothing like your father."

"No Mama, you're wrong, Donovan loves, loved me, and I threw it right back in his face." A fresh wave of grief hit her, threatened to pull her under again. Had it not been for the gentle words and the soothing touch of her mother, she might have drowned in it.

"This is all about your father, isn't it Lacy?" Carrie asked sternly as she hugged Lacy tightly to her. "Don't let the past ruin a good thing Lacy, what's done is done, and we've all moved on from it. I certainly have." She pulled away again, looked Lacy right in the face. "Do you love him, Lacy?"

Lacy nodded, hiccupped again and wiped at her face. "Yes. Yes, I love him. But it's too late Mama. It's too late."

"Oh honey, it's never too late."

"No, you're wrong this time Mama. It is too late. Donovan went to see daddy, and I berated him for it. He told me he was done. He said he couldn't do it anymore. I screwed it all up."

"How did you screw it all up? I don't understand."

"Because I wouldn't give him the answers that he wanted."

"What answers Lacy? What are you talking about?"

Stronger now, Lacy pulled out of her mother's embrace, rotated her shoulders, and fessed up. "I'm not a very open person. I guess I take after you." Her mother frowned, then smiled and took her hand. "Donovan knew I was holding back, hell, I all but broadcasted the fact that I wasn't looking to get into a serious relationship, but that didn't stop him, and he fell in love with me. Imagine that Mama, a man like Donovan Pierce, and he fell in love with me. Thorns and all."

"Lacy, honey, don't sell yourself short, any man, especially Donovan would be lucky to have you. You're such a loving and compassionate young lady, and so beautiful," she said, tucking a strand of Lacy's hair behind her ear, and smiling at her softly.

"I know Mama. It's just, I never expected this. Expected Donovan. He was such a surprise, and it scared me to death. When I realized he loved me, and that I loved him, it scared me to death. How could he love me and not know about my past? And what would have happened when he found out?"

Carrie laughed, "Lacy, you make it sound like you have a communicable disease. Honey, what your father did to me, and that boy, Derek, what happened between you and him, has no bearing on your relationship with Donovan. You know that don't you?"

She shook her head, "I do now, but then, it all happened so fast, and I didn't know what to think. Daddy loved you, he loved me, and he hurt both of us so badly. And Derek, I don't even want to think about Derek." She took a breath, gathered her thoughts before continuing. "I guess I just had some foolish notion that the men who loved me would ultimately betray me in the end. And Donovan is so absolutely perfect for me."

"And that scared you?"

She nodded, "it scared me more than you'll ever know. But now, now it's too late. I let Donovan get away. Hell, I barged into the locker room, and I made an ass of myself in front of his entire team! I don't think he'll ever forgive me for it."

The image of Lacy, bursting through the doors and yelling at Donovan in front of his teammates was too much for Carrie, and she flew into a fit of laughter, giving Lacy pause as she stared at her mother.

"Honey, you didn't! Tell me you didn't do that!"

Lacy bit her lip to keep from laughing herself. Looking back on it now, she realized how it must look. How foolish and funny it must have been to everyone watching them. She couldn't help it, she burst into laughter herself.

"Okay, I'm sorry. That's not funny." Her mother said, regaining her composure. "Lacy, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I knew your father was cheating on me. I had known all along."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

"Mmm hmm.. I knew."

"And you stayed with him anyway? Why?"

"I did it for you. I did it for you, Lacy. Don't get me wrong, I loved your father. In the beginning, I loved him with all my heart, but as time went on, as we saw less of each other, I realized it wasn't a lasting kind of love. But I had you, and you were everything to me. You were everything to him."

"Mama, I don't understand. Why would you stay with a man that was cheating on you?"

"Because he loved you Lacy, and I knew if you had found out about Patricia and the kids you'd never forgive him. You haven't. I didn't want that to happen."

"But he cheated on you, Mama! He lived a double life right under our noses!"

Carrie nodded, patting Lacy's hands. "I know that, I knew that the whole time. Your father, like you, has an involuntary tic in his eyes when he's lying. So I figured it out pretty quickly, right about the time Patricia was pregnant with James. Your father had asked me for a divorce. And I knew why. He was in love with that woman, he wanted a life with her, but he didn't want you to hate him for it. And neither did I. So I forced him to stay."

"You what? Why? What about your happiness?" Lacy snapped, it didn't make sense, none of it made any sense.

"I had you, Lacy, that's all I cared about."

"So you just sacrificed yourself, for me? For my relationship with Daddy? Well, it didn't work did it?"

"You're angry, please don't be angry with me." Carrie pleaded.

"Of course I'm angry, here all this time I had it all worked out in my head, and now... now you tell me it was your decision to stay with him, that you knew about Patricia and the kids! You knew!" She roared, throwing her hands in the air.

"Lacy," Carrie said, trying to calm her down, "Please, you have to understand."

"Understand what? That you stayed with a man you didn't love, one that wasn't faithful to you, one that was in love with another woman at that! How can I possibly understand that?"

"It was my decision!" Carrie argued, getting louder now. "Damn it, Lacy! It was my choice! I knew if I gave your father that divorce he'd move himself up to North Carolina and you'd hardly ever see him again. I didn't want that life for you. I wanted you to have a normal relationship with him. And you did. You had a normal, happy childhood."

"But it was all an illusion," she replied softly, her heart breaking. Breaking for her mother, for her loveless marriage, for her father, and the life he could've had, and for herself, and the little girl she had been. "So what changed? Why did you finally divorce him?"

"When James got hurt, I realized how selfish I was being. How selfish we were all being. You deserved to know the truth, but I had hoped... I had hoped you would forgive him. Forgive me."

"Oh, Mama. I do, I do forgive you. What you went through, for me. I could never blame you."

"But you blame your father?"

Lacy just stared at her.

"You have to forgive him, Lacy. He tried to do the right thing. And he loves you. He loves you so much."

"You still talk to him, don't you?"

"Yes. We talk often. He misses you, Lacy. And he likes Donovan, very much."

Her green eyes sparked, rage simmering again. "You knew that too? You knew he went to see him, and you didn't tell me?"

"How could I? Then you'd know I talked to your father when I didn't think you were ready to hear the truth."

Lacy stood, looking down at her mother, thinking over everything she'd just shared. Her whole life, her whole life had been a lie. She needed time, she needed to sort through all the lies, come to terms with her feelings.

A week had passed and in a hurry.

The Slashers were on their way to the Eastern Conference Finals, where they'd face the Washington Capitals, who had just defeated the Rangers. Tampa had proved to be a formidable foe pushing it to six games before they were defeated.

Luckily, having hockey and the hope of going to the Finals to distract him from thoughts of Lacy, Donovan was able to focus on the game, pulling in two goals and four more assists in the last three games against the Bolts. Perhaps his injury had ended his points streak during the regular season, but he was looking good for the Conn Smythe if they did indeed win the Stanley Cup.

The Capitals hadn't managed to overtake the Slashers in the standings during the regular season, though they had risen to the top of the Metropolitan Division, so the Slashers would have home ice again for the conference finals. But as Anaheim somehow came out with more points than them, it didn't matter if they took care of the Blackhawks in the western conference finals or not, they wouldn't have home ice in the cup finals. Those pesky Blackhawks may have managed to win the Presidents Trophy, but as of right now, the Ducks looked to be the better team.

There weren't too many teams, hadn't been one since the Red Wings in 97' and 98' that had won the Stanley Cup two years in a row, and while the Blackhawks had won four titles in the last eight seasons, none of them were back to back. And the Ducks were certainly looking for revenge after their last loss to them in the Conference Finals a couple years back. Hopefully, for the Slashers sake, they would get it. If there was one team they hadn't wanted to face, it was the Chicago Blackhawks.

Not that the Ducks were going to be much easier as far as opponents went, but at least they had been able to beat them fairly easily during the regular season. Of course, the regular season and the playoffs were two completely different animals. Hadn't the Blackhawks proven that time and time again?

Finished with their morning skate, Donovan headed into the gym for a post-workout. Tomorrow they started the conference finals. Tomorrow they took one step closer to the winning the Stanley Cup. And nothing was going to get in his way.

Lacy had thought about things, over and over. She thought long and hard. She looked at things from every angle, and then she looked at them again. Some of it made sense, and some of it didn't. Her mom had made decisions and taken steps to ensure that Lacy had a normal, happy childhood. And she could understand that, no matter how convoluted it sounded.

But her father had still betrayed her. He had cheated on Lacy's mother and gotten another woman pregnant. The fact that he had tried to do the right thing and end his marriage to Lacy's mother was an afterthought. If he was attracted to another woman and no longer in love with her mother, then he should have ended it before hooking up with Patricia.

What was it her mother had said, though? She wouldn't give him the divorce? So what was to say she wouldn't have denied him the divorce even before he started the affair had he gone that route? She couldn't discount that theory. Her mother had done what she thought best for her daughter. And so had her father.

Yes, he had another "wife", they had kids together, they had a life. But he came home to Lacy and Carrie every other week, he split himself between the two evenly. And she knew her mother had been right, if he had left her, he would have moved to North Carolina, and she probably wouldn't have had much, if any, relationship with him at all

So could she really fault him for how it all turned out?

She didn't know. She needed to think about it a little bit more. Maybe one day she would understand, maybe she could eventually forgive him and try to have some sort of relationship with him and Patricia, after all, Patricia was even more innocent in the grand scheme of things than her own mother had been. And it would certainly make things easier on her brother and sister. She loved them and missed them a lot. It would be nice to see them more often.

But while she still wanted to go slowly where her father was concerned, Lacy knew she couldn't wait much longer before she approached Donovan again. That was something else, though. Would Donovan forgive her so easily? He had been right after all. She was closed up, she had walls, and she didn't want to let him in. She was scared. Scared of him, his love, and any possible betrayal.

However, as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew Donovan would never hurt her. She knew she could trust him. But how did she tell him that? She'd tried to call him several times, always hanging up before the call connected. She'd told herself she'd go to his house after work on several occasions, but she always went home instead.

How could she tell him she loved him, if she couldn't even work up the nerve to go and see him?

The Chicago Blackhawks, their arch nemesis, had battled past the St Louis Blues in the first round of the playoffs, though, realistically, the Blues never did well in the playoffs, to begin with, with the exception of a couple of years ago. Then they took on a struggling Dallas Stars team, that while loaded with talent, was still having trouble on their blue line and lucky to get past the Nashville Predators. The Stars hadn't done so hot in the playoffs themselves, at least not since moving to Dallas from Minnesota where they had been known as the North Stars.

But in a rematch of the Western Conference from a few years ago the Chicago Blackhawks had finally met their end. Falling in a game seven to the Anaheim Ducks. What luck! Patrick Kane had a hell of a season, and was sure to be the league MVP again. Artemi Panarin, his linemate was outstanding as well, continuing to help Kane reach new heights. Though they came shy of reaching the finals again, they'd had a damn good season and would most certainly be a threat again next season, probably even win the cup if history continued to repeat itself.

Bad news this season for the Blackhawks, great news for the Slashers, who were themselves headed back to the Stanley Cup Finals.

They'd taken on the red-hot Capitals and lived to see another series. It even only took them five games to put it away, giving them a short break while the western conference wrapped up things on their end. A much-needed break. All the back and forth, the travel, sleeping in hotels, it really wore a guy out. Not to mention that three of their games had gone into overtime, one even into triple overtime!

All the excitement had left Donovan with little time to catch his breath and even less time to think about Lacy.

But he did. Often.

He tried not to, after all, he didn't want to imagine what she was up to. The thought that she might have decided to pursue other options, date other men and revert back to how she was before Donovan, made him absolutely sick to his stomach. It did, however, seem to have a positive outcome on his game. He played with more determination than he thought possible. At least there was that.

It tortured him otherwise. He missed her, he wanted so desperately to call her, to see her. But he'd made it quite clear to her that he was done. Of course, he hadn't meant done with her, just that he was done fighting to make her see that he loved her. If she couldn't come to that conclusion on her own, then he guessed that would be the end of it.

As of right now, though, the ball, er, puck, was in Lacy's zone, she had to decide what she wanted to do with it. As far as Donovan was concerned, he'd left her with an empty net and a man advantage, it was completely up to her now. He just hoped she knew that. Which was what ate at him the most. He thought he'd been pretty straight forward, but as the silence between them grew, he was beginning to think she hadn't understood.

It was that or she had decided she didn't want Donovan and the life that he had offered her.

Lacy sat at the nurse's station with Shelly, glancing casually from time to time at the TV that hung above them, tuned into the hockey game. She didn't want to care, she really didn't, but she couldn't help herself.

It was game five of the cup finals. The Slashers were up 3-1 in the series with the chance to close it out tonight, and every time Donovan stepped out onto the ice, her heart kicked up a notch. She had, in fact, been quite impatient with most of her charges tonight, always in a hurry to get back in front of the TV and check the score.

They were down 3-2 with one period remaining. God, she hoped they won. Donovan hadn't had a goal tonight, nor an assist. He'd been moved to the second line to see if they could get things going. The Ducks were playing shut down, finally having figured out a way to keep Dean and Donovan off the board. She would know, she'd been following the series religiously.

The Slashers had been handing it to the Ducks from the beginning, never giving an inch. But tonight, something was different. She only hoped it wasn't her fault.

Imagine how surprised she had been to receive a pair of tickets to tonight's game. They hadn't spoken in almost two weeks. But he had sent her tickets? Or had someone else? That's why she hadn't gone. That's why she gave them to an over joyous Tina and her husband Bert. She wasn't sure Donovan had sent them. There wasn't a note, there weren't any flowers this time. Just two tickets in an unmarked envelope sitting in her mailbox.

She wanted them to be from Donovan. She hoped it was some sign that he still wanted her, God knows she hadn't slept or eaten well since that night, the night she fucked it all up. And it didn't matter what her mother had said, she was wrong. Donovan said he was done; he couldn't have been more clear if he were made of crystal.

So she didn't go. And seeing Donovan's performance tonight crushed her, the giveaways, the takeaways, it was all so unlike him. He'd even taken a foolish penalty, twice! Had he sent those tickets? Had he wanted her to come, and knowing she hadn't, was it affecting the way he played? God, she hoped not.

Munching on a powerbar as he listened to Coach Truski go over some adjustments, Donovan's eyes popped open when his gaze caught Jack's at the entrance where he hovered just inside the threshold.

Donovan sent him a pleading glance, to which Jack solemnly shook his head. She hadn't come. He wasn't angry this time, though, he felt defeated. He had lost her. He knew it.

The Slashers would travel to California. The Ducks would force a game six.

Lacy was beside herself as she watched them lose the game. Donovan looked sick out there, like there was simply no fight left in him. And she felt miserable for it. She had to do something about it. But when she grabbed for her cell phone and scrolled through the contacts until she reached "D" she stopped, setting it back down.

What was the point? Nothing had changed. Except everything had changed.

She still couldn't bring herself to do it, though. She wasn't ready. Maybe she never would be ready. And that wasn't fair to him. Donovan deserved so much more than Lacy could ever give him.

Later that evening, her spirit still down, Lacy was surprised and more than a little happy when Tina strolled down the hall, still in her jersey and holding a foam finger that proclaimed the Slashers were number one.

"Oh my gosh!" Tina squeaked in her excitement. "Thank you SO much for those tickets!"

Lacy gave her a half smile, "don't mention it." She said.

"I can't believe they lost, maybe they were tired, but God, what a game! And those seats! A-MA-ZING! I owe you one for sure." Tina continued, frowning once she finally noticed the expression on Lacy's face. "Hey," she said more softly. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"Nothing." Lacy huffed, turning away from her before she started crying. Once she'd opened that can of worms, it was likely she wouldn't get the lid back on. Ever since that conversation with her mom, she'd found herself crying a lot more than usual. Especially since she'd hardly ever cried in the past.

Tina knew she was lying, though, and this time, she wasn't backing down. Tina was tired of being pushed away. Lacy was always there for her, it was time she returned the favor.

"This is about Donovan, isn't it? And don't lie to me, Lacy. I'm not blind."

"Just leave it alone okay?"

Tina put a hand on her shoulder. "No. I've done that too many times. Now turn around and face me. It's not like you to run from a fight."

She was right. Lacy turned, tears burning the backs of her eyelids.

Gasping just a little, surprised by the emotion in Lacy's eyes, Tina wrapped her arm around Lacy and squeezed her tight. "Tell me what's wrong Lacy. Please."

"You're right. It's Donovan." She sniffed, trying her damnedest not to cry. Shelly had gone on break and she didn't want to rouse her suspicions once she returned. She didn't need to get sent home. Going home to her empty house would only make it worse.

"Sweetie, look at you. You're miserable. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"That's just it, I'm not doing anything Tina. That's the problem."

Tina was confused, so she said as much, "I'm confused, how is that the problem?"

"He told me he loved me, Tina."

"Okay. Still not getting it sweetie."

Lacy took a moment, wiped the moisture from her eyes, took a sip from her water bottle, and told Tina everything. Nearly in tears again once she'd finished.

"Well, he obviously didn't mean it Lacy, or he wouldn't have sent you tickets to that game. He wants to see you. Or are you that blind?"

Lacy shook her head, "I don't know if he did send those tickets, though."

"He did."

"How can you be so sure?" She was getting angry now. Her voice rising an octave, causing a patient walking down the hall to stare in her direction.

"Because his agent told me he did," Tina whispered, trying to calm her down again.

"What?"

"That's right," Tina answered, nodding and smiling now. "Jack, who is a lovely man, by the way, came up to me and Bert during intermission, and asked to see our tickets, I thought he was an usher at first. Though to be honest he was dressed way too nice for that. Anyway, when he saw that we were where we belonged, he asked me how we came by the tickets, and I told him. He admitted to me that Donovan had given them to you, that he put them in your mailbox himself. Then sent Jack to see if you'd come."

Lacy slumped down in her chair, her lip trembling as she listened to her friend relay the story. Her heart breaking. Donovan had been to her house. Donovan had given her the tickets. Donovan still wanted her. And she was an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

"Oh God, what have I done."

Tina smirked, "nothing, and that's the problem, remember? Maybe your not showing up tonight is why he looked so depressed."

"Gee, rub it in will you Tina." Lacy sneered, as if she didn't feel bad enough already.

"What are friends for?" she shrugged. "If I were you, I'd take the first opportunity I got and go see him. Give him a big ole kiss and tell him how I really felt."

"But he's likely already on a plane to California by now. And I have to work tomorrow night too."

Tina pursed her lips, "Well, I'd wager that after Tuesday that won't be a problem. Once they win the Stanley Cup and the offseason starts you'll have plenty of time to make your move."

Lacy's lips curved into a smile. Tina was right. And she knew just what she needed to do.

### Chapter 17

The Big Gesture

On Tuesday, June fourteenth, the Savannah Slashers beat the Anaheim Ducks 2-1. Winning the Stanley Cup, and finally bringing it back to the south where it hadn't seen the sun since two thousand and four when the Tampa Bay Lightning had won.

The city was in an uproar. Albeit a most happy one.

There were parties and a parade through the main strip downtown. Banners flew from every major building, Savannah and all of Georgia could not have been happier. The Savannah Slashers had won the Stanley Cup, and only a little more than a decade after the team had first been assembled.

Coach Truski's contract was renewed. As it should have been. Several members of the team were looking at big raises in their futures. Donovan had won the Conn Smythe.

And yet, through it all, the celebrations, the excitement, the whirlwind press conferences, and the shaving of his playoff beard, which was itchy and had started to smell, Donovan couldn't help but think of Lacy. He was miserable but hid it decidedly well. He hadn't heard hide nor hare of her since they'd fought in the locker room that night. And it was killing him. Slowly but surely sucking the life out of him.

He thought, more than once, about going down to the hospital, or knocking on her door at home, and kidnapping her. Throwing her over his shoulder and taking her back to his place. Having his way with her until she begged for mercy. Until she opened up and let him.

But he didn't.

He couldn't bring himself to even call her. After the snubbing she had done by not going to the game, and Jack had told him later that she'd given the tickets to a friend, he knew it wasn't that she just hadn't gotten them, he'd decided she had made up her mind. She was done with him. And now he had to learn to live with it.

Donovan would have his time with the cup next week. He'd decided to take it home, to Thunder Bay. He knew his friends and family, as well as his high school coaches, would love it if he did. So it was a pretty easy decision to make. Besides, he missed his parents and his little brother. It would be nice to spend some time with his family. See how Steve was doing, and make sure his house was still standing.

Lacy had put a lot of thought into how she was going to handle things. Now was the time to put her plan into action.

She already knew that Donovan had flown back to Canada, she'd talked to Dean before he and Abby left for Connecticut, and they'd informed her that he'd gone home, for at least a couple of weeks.

It was perfect. What better way to make "the big gesture" than fly to Canada and surprise him at his house? And thanks to Dean, she had an address as well. Thank goodness she'd kept her passport up to date!

After a short trip to North Carolina, where Lacy finally put her past behind her, she boarded a plane to Canada. Lacy had plenty of vacation time saved up, so she had taken a week off, figuring that'd be enough time to accomplish everything.

Once the plane landed, her heart began hammering in her chest. She'd never been so nervous in her life! And she was only at the airport! God, if she was this freaked out now, what would she be like once Donovan was standing in front of her?

Lacy rented a car, and following the GPS on her cell phone, finally found herself at Donovan's house. It was a nice neighborhood, tree lined streets, beautiful craftsman style homes, with a few brick and mortars thrown in for effect.

Lucky for her Donovan's wasn't gated like most of the others were. It looked like the back yard was fenced, and while a gleaming white fence line ran on either side of the circular driveway as well, the front was left open.

The house before her was a large one, and the exterior had a brick and stone facade. Tasteful. Like Donovan. And likely expensive as well.

Here goes nothing. She thought to herself as she stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. She rang the doorbell, stepping back and waiting nervously as she chewed her bottom lip.

The man who answered was not Donovan.

Steve smiled as he looked at the woman standing before him. "Can I help you?" he asked, eating her up with his eyes.

Looking at Steve, Lacy knew immediately that he and Donovan were related. There was just no mistaking that smile. "I was looking for Donovan. Is he home?" She asked politely, trying to ignore the gleam of lust in his gaze.

He shook his head. "He isn't here, but would you like to come in anyways?"

A young boy came into view then, pushing Steve aside with a snide remark and giving Lacy a once over. "Donovan's at our parents' house. I was just heading home myself, if you want you can follow me."

This must be Todd. She thought as she sized him up. He looked a lot like Donovan, and she'd already seen a picture of him, so she'd recognize him anywhere. "Thanks, I'm Lacy by the way."

He held out a hand to her, "I'm Todd, it's nice to meet you, Lacy."

There was mischief in his eyes, or had she been mistaken? Perhaps Donovan had talked about her. Hell, she was sure he had. "Thanks for this, you didn't have to."

"I know." He replied, still smiling as he walked over to the little Honda she had passed by on her way up the driveway.

He was more like his brother than he'd ever know.

The drive to Donovan's parents' house was a short one. And their property, unlike Donovan's was gated. Which made her even happier that she'd chosen to follow his little brother. The property was large, the neighbors spaced further apart, but the house itself was adequate. Not too big, but not too small. It had a gray brick exterior and ample landscaping. Either Mrs. Pierce had a green thumb or had a damn good gardener.

Lacy anxiously followed Todd inside, where he left her in the foyer and went in search of Donovan. She took the brief respite to look around, balancing on the balls of her feet to peer into the rooms off the foyer.

The ceilings were high, with large windows and skylights that made them feel even bigger. The place was bright and airy. Pictures adorned pretty much every wall, but it didn't feel cluttered. There was a formal dining room to her right, a large wooden staircase right in front of her, and a sitting room to the left. The furniture looked to be mostly antiques. Donovan had said his mother was an interior decorator, and it showed.

Donovan appeared in the dining room then, clearing his throat to get her attention, and startling her in the process.

Lacy jumped upon hearing him, her hand covering her heart. "You scared me," she gasped.

He looked at her thoughtfully, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. His expression indecipherable. "What are you doing here Lacy?" he finally asked. As if he cared. She was here, and frankly, that's all that mattered to him. He had the strongest urge to pull her into his arms and carry her upstairs, take her to a bedroom, any bedroom and make love to her.

He didn't want to scare her, though. So he stood there and waited for a reply instead. It took all his willpower not to move.

"Can we uh... can we take a walk or something?" She asked, pointing to the door.

"Sure, let me go put on my shoes, I'll meet you out front." He said, then disappeared the way he had come.

Lacy slipped out the front door, walking part way down the drive and admiring his mother's flowers. So many colors. They were beautiful.

Donovan walked around from the back of the house, falling into step with her as they headed down the drive and out the gate. He didn't say anything, though, as he figured she'd get around to her reason for being there when she was ready to.

"I saw my father." She said quietly, so softly he almost hadn't heard her.

"And?"

"I'm sorry Donovan."

He stopped, turned towards her and looked deep into those emerald eyes, she was hurting, this was hard for her, and he could see it. Her eyes were naked, her defenses down. "Why are you here Lacy?" He asked again.

"Because you deserve to know the truth." She said, her lips quivering.

"And you're going to give it to me?"

She nodded.

There was a park nearby, he led her over to it, both of them taking a seat at one of the picnic tables. And then he waited.

"His name was Derek."

"Who?"

"The boy that broke my heart."

He put a hand on her knee, and she looked away. "I'm sorry he hurt you Lacy, but I'm not him. You have to believe me."

With tears in her eyes, she met his gaze, where she felt the compassion in them. "I believe you."

"But?"

She shook her head. "Let me get this all out, okay?"

"Okay."

"My father hurt me. When I found out that he had cheated on my mother, that he had an entire other family stashed away in North Carolina, I was destroyed. I thought I'd never be able to trust anyone again."

"Lacy," he grunted, as if to butt in.

"No," she hissed, cutting him off at the pass. "Don't you dare try to defend him, Donovan. He was a big boy, and he knew what he was doing. He should have never gotten involved with Patricia. And he knew that. He admitted as much." She paused.

"But there's more. I had a talk with my mother, she told me things I wouldn't have believed if my father had said them himself. So while I don't condone what he did, I understand it. And I'm on my way to forgiving him."

Donovan gave her shoulder a squeeze. "That's great, Lacy."

She took a deep breath, fought herself from shrugging him off. He understood where she was coming from, he knew how hard this was for her, and she needed his comfort, no matter how strong her instinct to push him away.

"I met Derek in high school. I was sixteen. After two years, I'd figured I was past what my father had done to me, to my mother. So I got involved with him. Derek had just moved into town, he lived right down the road from me. And he came into the place where I worked quite frequently. We had a lot in common, and we really hit it off. We spent all summer together, and by the end of it, we were a couple."

Donovan listened to her intently, he could picture the scene as she played it out in her own mind. Lacy, young and vulnerable, in love for the first time.

"Derek was a soccer player."

"Ah, the athlete," he interjected.

"What? Oh, right," she continued once she grasped his meaning. "Derek was a very charismatic and good looking guy as well, so it was no surprise that he quickly became one of the most popular guys in school. But he never looked down on me. I was his girlfriend, and he made sure everyone treated me as such."

Donovan snorted, "how noble." Which brought a smile to Lacy's face, he was jealous, of her past at that. Go figure.

"Anyways," she said, throwing him a look. "it wasn't until my senior year, just after homecoming that I found out he had more extracurricular activities besides just soccer."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, apparently he'd been active with about half the female population."

"Oh God, Lacy, that's horrible. I'm so sorry." He said, pulling her into his arms.

"I'd just given him my virginity too." She said, not meeting his gaze but allowing him to comfort her.

He turned her face towards him, though, forcing her to look at him as he held her chin gently in the palm of his hand. "Lacy, I had no idea. I can't imagine how that made you feel. And on top of what your father had done to you."

She should have known he'd understand. She almost felt bad for not saying anything before now. But she'd told him, and the term better late than never came to mind. She smiled at him, a soft, sad sort of smile. "I'm not going to lie; I was pretty crushed. I built up all these walls after that; swore I wouldn't let anyone else in."

"I don't blame you."

"You know," she said, cutting him off. "Derek had the audacity to tell me he still loved me. Made it sound like he was sick or something, and that maybe I could cure him."

"The male ego." Donovan scoffed. "Some people never fail to surprise me." Still holding her face in his hand, he rubbed his thumb over her lips. A soothing, yet arousing gesture. "I really am sorry you had to go through that Lacy, and I hope you know I'd never hurt you like that."

"I know that now." She whispered, pressing her lips against his thumb.

Donovan's eyes darkened then, first blue, then green as his pupils contracted. Lacy let the tip of her tongue slide through her lips, running it over the calloused pad of his finger. The heat of her mouth drawing a groan from Donovan.

Placing a hand on either side of her head, Donovan lowered his face until his lips sought hers, pulling her into an electrically charged kiss. Sparks flew the instant their mouths met. The jolt so powerful that all Lacy's muscles went lax. Donovan gathered her close, supporting her weight with his body as she leaned heavily into him.

Taking the kiss to new levels, Donovan elicited a moan from Lacy, their tongues dancing circles around one another. Lacy wrapped her arms around him, her fingers lightly skimming his scalp as she wound them into the unruly mop of hair on his head.

Finally coming up for air, Lacy trailed a finger down the side of his cheek. "You know, I'm glad you finally shaved. That lumberjack look just didn't suit you," she purred, almost giggling.

"What? My playoff beard? I happened to like it." He replied, rubbing his chin in a thoughtful gesture.

"Your what?"

He laughed. "It's called a playoff beard, the longer you play, the longer your beard gets."

Lacy cocked an eyebrow but smiled as she said, "well, then I'm glad the playoffs are over. Congratulations on the win by the way."

Nodding, Donovan pulled Lacy down onto his lap, capturing her mouth in another drugging kiss. Though this one, no less in intensity, didn't last as long. "I get to bring the cup home with me this week, how long are you going to be in town?"

Laying in his lap, more than a little dazed by his onslaught, Lacy looked up at him and blinked. "Huh?" she said, trying to regain consciousness.

"The Stanley Cup, we each get a week with it, I'm going to take it around town, show it off to the community. Will you join me?"

"I, I'd love to." Lacy stammered, her heart overjoyed, it was as if the past few weeks weren't still between them. "But I can't. My vacation ends on Friday."

"Right, I guess I hadn't thought about that." He said with a sigh.

Sitting up, Lacy smoothed the wrinkles out of her blouse as she looked around at her surroundings. The park he had taken her to was lovely, the trees in full bloom since spring often came late to Canada.

The silence stretched awkwardly between them, neither of them wanting to be the first to break it, looking off in different directions.

"Where do we go from here Lacy?" he finally said once the quiet had become too much to bear.

She lifted one shoulder, sort of a half shrug. "Not sure."

A few more minutes went by before he spoke again, taking her hand as he lifted her from the table, "we should probably get back," he said. "I'm sure my mom's wondering where I went. And I'd bet my brother told her all about you by now. She'll be anxious to meet you."

Nodding, Lacy walked with him back to the sidewalk and towards his parents' home.

"Lacy, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"That would be great."

### Chapter 18

Right at Home

Donovan's family welcomed Lacy as though she were one of their own. His father, Justin, though his features were darker than Donovan's, shared a similar personality to his son, both of them in fact. Todd was like a miniature version of Justin in pretty much every way, except for that smile, and those freckles. Mrs. Pierce, or Kathy as she asked to be called was a beautiful woman with an arrogant smile and an addicting laugh. Donovan was lucky to have such wonderful parents.

Lacy felt more at home in the presence of these strangers than she had ever felt with her own family. Perhaps it had been the undercurrent of lies and deceit, or her step-father's military bearing, but either way, being around Donovan's family, one that could hardly be considered dysfunctional by any means, made Lacy feel comfortable just being herself. Something she hadn't done in a long time. Too long.

After dinner, they gathered downstairs in what they considered their "family" room. Justin letting on that once Todd was off to college it would be converted to his man cave, though it probably wouldn't take much to accomplish that. If anything at all.

There was a large TV against one wall with a section of movie theater style seats in front of it, and a wet bar on another that also had features similar to Donovan's media room back home, to include the hot dog roller and popcorn machine, but also a pretzel maker and a pizza oven.

The walls were covered in neon lighted signs with different movie propaganda and posters, while dispersed throughout the room was various gaming equipment; a foosball table, air hockey, pool table, ping pong, and a poker table. Lacy really wasn't sure what they would do to make it into this man cave they were talking about. As far as she was concerned, it was already a man's haven. She decided he must have been teasing her and caught a familiar glint of mischief in his eyes as he indicated they all take a seat around the poker table.

Yeah, he'd obviously been joking.

After a rousing game of Texas hold 'em, in which Kathy really cleaned up, because the woman was a shark with an amazing poker face, not that they had been playing for money, though Donovan had suggested it, they all went back upstairs and had a slice of cherry pie that Kathy had baked earlier in the day.

A little more light conversation, a second slice of pie for Donovan and they were all saying their goodbyes. Kathy and Justin, who both hugged Lacy tightly, left her with an open invitation, assuring her she was welcome anytime, and feeling more emotional than she had in a long time, Lacy followed Donovan back to his place.

Once there, he immediately ushered her in through the back door and up the stairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

"Is that necessary?" Lacy asked, laughing as she looked around the room. She hadn't had much chance to see the downstairs as he literally shoved her down the hall and up the stairs, but what she did see reminded her a lot of his place in Savannah.

Classy kitchen with gourmet appliances and upgrades, and comfortable furnishings. The bedroom was more of the same, although unlike his place in Georgia, he had a TV in this bedroom and the bed was much bigger, a California King if she had to guess.

Leaning against the door and throwing her a sheepish grin he shook his head, "Absolutely, I didn't want Steve to see you."

"Steve? Your cousin right?"

"Yeah." He replied, closing the gap between them as he moved closer to her. "I've had to share you with the rest of my family already, I just want you to myself for a little while. Is that okay?"

Donovan put his arms around her, pulling her into him with a grunt as she slipped her arms underneath his and up his back.

"I guess so," she cooed while he began trailing kisses lightly down the side of her throat, sending shivers along her spine.

Maneuvering her over to the bed, he laid her down, coming down on top of her and parting her knees to make space for himself between them.

"God I missed you." He murmured as he nuzzled her neck, nipping and kissing the smooth column of satiny flesh, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Lacy lifted her bottom off the bed while Donovan unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down over her hips, "I missed you too." She moaned as his mouth sought hers and drank in the sweet taste of her.

They took it slowly, removing each other's clothes, kissing and caressing the skin they exposed, prolonging the pleasure they gave to each other while a storm raged within them. How they were able to contain the tornado of desire that spun wildly out of control with each touch was beyond them. Their need to please was stronger, the urge for release buried inside the gale force winds that swirled with every passing second.

As Donovan pushed himself to the hilt, enveloped by Lacy's pulsating sheath, the heat of her body surrounding him like boiling lava, he began to move within her, slow at first, each thrust building off the last. Without warning, though, Lacy erupted like a volcano underneath him, her torso arching rigidly as she pulled him further, wrapping her legs around him and pressing their bodies tightly together.

The sensation of having her so close, the feel of her slick skin against his, and the warmth that encircled him was simply too much to bear, and with a groan, his body shuddered, a climax so strong it shook them both to the very core.

Laying there together afterward, Lacy curled beside him with her hand resting against his chest, and Donovan's arm looped around her shoulders, he waited for her to plan her escape. He was ready for the moment when she would bolt. Swore to himself he wasn't going to let her get away this time.

To his surprise, however, Lacy's breathing deepened, a rhythmic lull as her chest rose and fell and when he looked down, her eyes were closed. Lacy was asleep, and in his arms no less. Sighing, Donovan wrapped himself around her more tightly and allowed himself to doze as well.

It was late when Lacy finally stirred. After the long flight, dinner with Donovan's family, and their emotionally charged love making, she was exhausted. It took her a minute to make her way through the sleep filled haze and figure out that she was still in bed with Donovan, and though she instinctively felt the urge to get up and leave, the feel of his naked body pressed against hers, the delicious heat and comfort of it, made her feel suddenly very safe and loved. The feeling was new to her, but maybe it was time to let the past with all its ghosts finally rest.

Her mother was right, the past had no bearing on her relationship with Donovan. So she snuggled closer to him and with a satisfied smile, fell asleep again.

Donovan, fully awake, felt her inner struggle, it was a tangible thing, and he had waited patiently to see what she was going to do, hoping he wouldn't have to restrain her if she decided to get up. But she hadn't, she'd laid her head in the crook of his shoulder and gone back to sleep.

Giving her a light kiss on the forehead, Donovan went back to sleep himself.

After what was likely the best sleep she had ever gotten, Lacy awoke with a start. Albeit a pleasurable one, as Donovan licked and lapped at her body in a most intimate way.

Lacy looked down her flat stomach to see him nestled between her legs, thoroughly enjoying himself as he drank his fill of her body. What a way to wake up!

Quelling their insatiable hunger for each other, at least for now anyways, they enjoyed a leisurely shower together, in which they washed one another in an erotic fashion, before getting dressed and heading downstairs to scrounge up something to eat.

They certainly needed to refuel their energy if they intended to spend the remainder of Lacy's vacation sating their passion for each other.

Steve was in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar as he munched on a bowl of cereal, looking up at them suspiciously when they entered the room. Lacy took a seat next to him after extending a hand and introducing herself, and Donovan set to work making waffles.

"How long are you in town for Lacy?" He asked curiously.

"Just till Friday," Donovan answered for her, a hint of something vicious in his tone. Perhaps a warning?

Lacy laughed, "I can answer for myself, thanks." She turned to Steve, noticing the satisfaction in his gaze at Lacy's admonishment. "Do you live here full-time Steve?"

"Yeah, I stayed with Donny in Savannah for a few weeks, but after the accident, he suggested I move in here. Look after the place." He shrugged.

Donovan snorted from the kitchen, causing Lacy to stifle a giggle that tried to escape.

"The accident that brought Donovan into the hospital?" She asked.

Steve nodded, his mouth full as he shoveled another bite of cereal into it. "That's how you two met, isn't it?"

"Yeah. That's how we met." With a smile on her face, Lacy looked up to meet Donovan's gaze, his own mouth curved into one of his sexy little grins as he stirred the batter and heated up the waffle iron.

Steve looked from one goofy face to the other, sighed inwardly and excused himself, taking his bowl of cereal into the den and turning on the TV, sounds of the morning news and then some sports station echoing into the kitchen as he flipped through the channels.

Lacy folded her hands in front of her and watched Donovan contentedly as he made waffles, placing them on a plate and plopping a dollop of butter on top before smothering them in syrup. So this is what this feels like? She thought to herself, wondering why she had been so afraid of it.

After eating together in a companionable silence, Donovan rinsed their dirty dishes before placing them in the dishwasher and handing Lacy a mug of fresh coffee.

"What do you want to do today?" He asked, watching her from across the counter.

Lacy raised an eyebrow, causing him to laugh, the sound so smooth and undeniably masculine that it sent the little butterflies in her stomach fluttering. These emotions were still so fresh for her, each reaction to him an individual shock to her system. All these years, living with the walls around her heart, now that the ice had finally melted she realized how much of life and the pleasure it all brought, that she had been missing.

Or maybe it was just because of Donovan.

"Besides that." He teased, cutting into her thoughts. "There will be plenty of time for that Lacy."

Shrugging, Lacy chuckled, "why don't you show me around town then or something. I'd like to see more of where you grew up."

Donovan nodded in wonderment at the newly changed woman in front of him and took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, okay. I can do that." Lacy was really coming around, and he couldn't have been more pleased by the transformation. Shocked really.

So they spent the afternoon wandering around Thunder Bay. Donovan showed her all his local haunts and hangouts, took her to his Alma mater, and introduced her to his former coaches at the ice rink where he had first learned how to play hockey.

It was an unreal and truly eye opening experience for Lacy. Canada was a beautiful place, so different from Savannah and all of Georgia for that matter.

After having lunch at a little cafe in town, where Donovan and his friends had caused havoc on more than one occasion, they found themselves strolling along the docks of the bay, hand in hand as Donovan pointed out this place and that.

It was the best day of her life.

Donovan made dinner for them once they finally found their way back to his place, Steve intruding only to grab a plate for himself before heading into the den to watch more TV, and so they ate together in the dining room, a nice quiet dinner. Donovan was certainly quite the cook, his pasta perfectly al dente, the sauce thick and creamy, and the chicken blackened to perfection.

She could get used to eating this way. And get fat in the process.

It wasn't until much later, on the morning of Lacy's departure, after they'd made love to each other multiple times during the night and the wee hours of the morning until their bodies lacked even the energy to move, that the mood suddenly changed.

Donovan had been going over things in his head since he'd first seen Lacy standing in the foyer of his parents' home. He'd had plenty of time to think in between bouts of lovemaking and quiet conversations about everything and nothing at all. He and Lacy had fallen into a routine that made him yearn for more.

Over the past few days, she had been completely open with him, had talked about her family, regaling him with stories of Kelsey and the few instances she'd been able to spend with James and Annabelle. Lacy loved her family, she loved her siblings in a way that showed clearly on her face, her eyes lighting up whenever she talked about them.

And though it would undoubtedly take time, he had a feeling that once the healing process began with her father, it wouldn't be long before they had a loving relationship again. So where did he fit into all of this? He wasn't sure. Lacy had no problems talking about the past now, she seemed almost relieved to finally have it all out in the open, but she avoided the future.

He hadn't heard one iota about anything concerning the present tense or beyond.

"What is it?" Lacy asked, sensing the change in him as Donovan sat up dropping his feet over the bed.

Donovan heaved a sigh, shivering when Lacy ran a finger along his spine. "This has been great, having you here I mean."

"It has, I'm really glad I came." She agreed, the smile on her face falling away as he turned and she saw the well of emotion in his eyes. "What is it, Donovan?" Lacy asked again, the concern in her voice apparent.

"Where do we go from here?"

Lacy sat up, hugging the sheets to her chest, she frowned and shook her head. "I don't know. I guess I hadn't thought about it."

"Well, it's all I've been thinking about. I love you, Lacy."

She looked scared now, almost panic stricken as he said the words. But despite the roiling despair he felt ripping through his body, Donovan still held out hope for the two of them, he knew they could make it work if they really tried.

"Donovan, I... I don't know what to say."

He shrugged, "just say you love me too."

Silence fell between them again as Lacy tried to get a grasp on herself, and her feelings.

"I... I love you too." She finally said, a tear slipping down her cheek, and a gentle smile blooming across her face as she reached up to wipe it away. "I love you too," she said again, the words flowing more freely, the smile catching fire and bubbling into a laugh. Lacy threw herself across the bed and into his arms, "I love you too Donovan. I do, oh God, I love you!"

Completely taken aback by her sudden joyful outburst, it took him a second to realize what she had just said, and then she was launching herself at him. Donovan took it all in stride, though, catching her and raining little kisses all over her face, pulling her against him, tearing at her clothes, a fevered frenzy overtaking them both.

Lying in one another's' arms, their chests both heaving as they tried to catch their breaths, Donovan smiled to himself, she loved him. Lacy loved him. The words twirling around in his head as he remembered the look on her face as she'd realized her own feelings. He felt like he was floating, and as she sighed contentedly in his arms, he snuggled her closer, and only then did he come back down to earth again. Lacy loved him.

She loved him. She loved Donovan Pierce, hockey player, and gorgeous hunk of man that he was, there was no doubt about it, she loved him. Her peace and solitude, as she lay there happily in his embrace was short-lived, however. She barely had time to let the emotions rolling around in her mind take root before it all came unglued again.

"Let's get married." She heard him say, though it took a minute before his words finally registered. Lacy shot up, grabbing the sheets and peering down at him, a shocked look on her pale face. "What?" she said, that one word coming out in a forced whisper.

Donovan leaned up on his elbows, fear written plainly on his face. "I said, why don't we get married?"

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm crazy about you, isn't that enough?"

Aghast, Lacy swung her legs over the bed and reached for her shirt that lay on the floor beside her, pulling it over her head before going in search of the rest of her clothes.

"I know I said I loved you Donovan, but that doesn't mean I want to get married." She protested, picking up her pants and slipping into them.

Donovan stood then, noticing the gesture for what it was, and hurriedly he grabbed his clothes from the chair where he'd thrown them the night before, quickly putting them on, and standing in the doorway preventing her from exiting as she grabbed her socks and headed for the door.

"Get out of my way Donovan," she ground out, moving left and right as he mimicked her movements, effectively blocking her.

"Not until we talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat, he was making her angry now. Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest and sat down at the end of the bed. "Well?" she said, still gaping at him. "Spit it out already so I can leave."

"You said you loved me, Lacy."

"So?"

Donovan cocked his head, "You love me, but you won't marry me?"

"No. I won't marry you, Donovan. Can I go now?"

"I don't get you, Lacy." He growled, shaking his head. "Is this because of your parents? I thought you said you were past that."

She glared at him, sparks shooting from her eyes, "maybe I'm not."

"Oh come off it Lacy, what are you so afraid of?"

"You okay? I'm afraid of you." She cried, exploding as she jumped off the bed and nearly punched him before he grabbed a hold of her, pulling her against his body and wrapping his arms tightly around her as she sobbed.

After a few minutes, Lacy finally went limp and looked up at him, the colors in his eyes swirling around each other as he searched her own. "What do you want from me Donovan?" she asked meekly.

Donovan placed a finger under her chin, "I want you, Lacy." He said before kissing her briefly on the lips.

Lacy backed out of his embrace then, wiping the tears from her eyes, "you have me, Donovan, what does a little piece of paper have to do with anything?" She asked in earnest.

"It means something to me, Lacy, marriage means something to me."

"Well, it doesn't mean anything to me."

Donovan sighed. They were in another standoff. Neither of them wanting to budge an inch. Donovan knew this had everything to do with her parents and their own failed attempt at matrimony, so why was she trying to deny it?

"I already made the big gesture, haven't I?" Lacy asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had befallen them.

"What?" He asked, honestly surprised by her words and tone of voice. "What are you talking about? What big gesture?"

"I flew across the country damn it! I showed up at your doorstep and practically ripped myself open right in front of you. What more do you need Donovan? I said I loved you, and I do, but don't ask me for something I'm not ready to give you." She huffed indignantly, her chest rising visibly as she heaved a sigh of frustration.

Not ready. The words took flight in his mind. Lacy had just said she wasn't ready. Did that mean she would be one day? Or was it just a slip of the tongue? Donovan didn't know for sure, wouldn't unless he asked. Which he wasn't going to. He'd take her at her word. She'd admittedly given him so much already. And it was true, she'd come a long way in such a short time.

Walls that she had so carefully kept in place for years were now all but ruins, trust, and love eroding away at them. So who was to say that it couldn't still happen? Maybe with enough time and if he showed her enough love and affection, she might change her mind.

Oh, she'll change her mind alright. He told himself, plans already forming in his head as to how to go about helping her along the way. One layer at a time. He'd proven he could win her heart, now he'd find a way to keep it.

Changing tacks, Donovan shook his head, "you're right."

"I am?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"Yes. You're absolutely right. I shouldn't have tried to push you."

"That's right, you shouldn't have," she agreed, if not a little childishly.

Donovan laughed, "don't go getting all cocky on me now, I said you were right, but I'm not giving up altogether."

Lacy stood watching him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Move in with me Lacy."

And there it was.

Donovan winced, his eyes going to slits as he waited for her outraged response. He was pushing her again, but he had to try.

"Alright," she said calmly, after letting him sweat for another minute or so. Enjoying his discomfort, a little more than she'd like to admit.

"Alright?"

She nodded, "yes, alright. I'll move in with you. Under one condition."

Relief and desire suddenly flooded his system, but Donovan caught hold of himself, restraining the urge to pick her up and squeeze the life out of her. "Name it," he said.

"I'm not living in that bachelor pad of yours."

That did him in. Laughing, Donovan crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around as his lips flattened against hers in a passionate and domineering kiss.

Once he set her down again, and they had both regained their senses, that kiss having drained them of all rational thought, Lacy got serious again. "I meant it, I'm not living in your condo."

"Fine, but I'm not living in that shoe box you call an apartment either."

She eyed him angrily, ready for a fight.

Donovan just laughed at her, though. "I guess we'll just have to buy a house together."

"A house?" She hadn't considered that. But since he'd said it, the idea of buying a house with Donovan felt... right.

"Well, yeah." Donovan said, regaining her attention as he looked around the room, indicating the walls around him with a smile, "when I'm away, I really miss this place. You know? A big house, my own yard."

"I'm not moving to Canada." She cut in abruptly causing him to laugh again.

"I'm not asking you to. I live and work in Savannah Lacy, and since I've just signed an eight-year contract with the Slashers, I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. Though I will expect you to come for visits with me, and I try to spend at least a month here during the offseason. But no, I meant we'd buy a house there, maybe near your parents?"

"My parents? You mean Wilmington Island?"

He nodded, "it's a nice area, don't you agree?"

"It's an expensive area."

"I'm a wealthy man, or didn't you know?" He reminded her with a chuckle.

Lacy smiled, holding up a finger though to make a point. "Fine, Wilmington Island it is, but I get to decorate."

"Deal." he agreed readily. "And I want a dog too," He said, putting his hands on his hips and daring her to say no.

"Deal," she mumbled, sounding as though she were repulsed by the idea, though her smile indicated otherwise. "Wait. What about your condo?"

He shrugged as though it were no big deal. "What about it?"

"What do you mean what about it? It would be silly to own a house and a condo in the same city, don't you think?"

"So I'll sell it," he agreed. "Better yet, Andre's looking to ditch his roommates, he can rent it just how it is. What about your place, you don't own that little crap house do you?"

Lacy's mouth dropped open, "no," she glowered at him. "I don't own that crap house as you so affectionately put it."

"Good, it's settled then. Now about your job."

Lacy's hackles rose ever so slightly, causing her to straighten her spine as she said, "What about my job?"

"Quit." He replied with a shrug. "I make more than enough to take care of us both."

She looked simply outraged then. And let him know as much. "What do you mean quit my job? I worked hard to make it to where I am now, I'm not going to just throw it all away for some... some..."

"Wonderful man whom you love?" He interjected teasingly.

"Ohhh.." She said, jabbing a finger into his ribs. "Just who do you think you are Donovan Pierce? I will NOT quit my job and that's final!"

Donovan took a step back, getting out of her finger jabbing range as he assessed the situation. "How are we going to make this work Lacy? We both have very demanding jobs, one of us has to compromise, and in case you didn't know, a contract isn't something I can take lightly."

Obviously, he had made some kind of sense to her, because despite her anger, Lacy seemed to calm down, considering their predicament seriously for a moment before answering.

"I've been thinking about private practice for a while now, better hours, no weekends, maybe I'll look into it." She held up a hand to stop him as he attempted to cut in again, "but I'm not quitting altogether. I have my pride Donovan, and I don't care how much money you make, I plan on contributing to this relationship. Even if it is just the utilities." She made that last remark with a big smirk on her face.

Donovan could kiss her again he was so happy! He couldn't believe it. A few months ago his entire life had been on the line so to speak. With the accident and his injury lingering in the air, he hadn't known that everything would work itself out so perfectly.

He wasn't looking for this when Lacy and all her attitude had come marching into his hospital room. After Amie, and rumors of his infidelity, Donovan wasn't sure he'd ever be able to find love outside of the fishbowl. But here it was. Lacy, his little spitfire. Who knew that what he needed was a woman who could keep him in line?

"You got it, baby. Whatever you want, you got it." He replied, pulling her into his arms and laying a smacking kiss on her.

Held tightly in the arms of the man she loved, Lacy sighed into his mouth, the vibration causing him to groan as the kiss heated up, sparking a match between them. This was love. No, this was everything. Lacy had no idea what came next, but she was excited, was more than excited, she was ecstatic! She'd finally come to terms with her past, allowing the pain she'd held onto for so long to slip right off her shoulders.

With the burden no longer weighing her down, Lacy didn't need to keep anything inside anymore, she'd found someone to share her life with. The pain, the sorrow and the excitement of tomorrow. She'd known there was something about Donovan from the beginning, she wouldn't have thrown the rulebook out the window otherwise, but she would never have guessed it'd get this far.

He had shown her a passion she would have never known had she not given him the chance, a love she would have denied had he not forced her to open her eyes and see it for what it was.

"I'm glad you said that," she purred, nuzzling her breasts against his strong chest as she slipped her hands under his shirt and felt the heat of his body against her palms.

"Is that right?" he asked, taunting her while he flicked his tongue down the side of her ear, catching her lobe between his teeth and nibbling it into submission.

Lacy nodded, her hands fumbling around the snap of his jeans. "Since I'm the one doing all the compromising, I figure you'll have to find a way to make it up to me at some point."

Donovan laughed, stilling her hands on his pants and using his free hand to capture her face in it, bringing her gaze up to meet his own. There was such love in his eyes, and hunger. She shivered as his gaze intensified.

"I plan on making it up to you Lacy." He chuckled, his laughter dying as her eyes sparkled with desire. Donovan groaned, putting his hand underneath her and hauling her into his arms, "I plan on making it up to you every day," He said, kissing her as he placed her gently on the bed. "every day, for the rest of our lives."

###
Notes from the Author

Thank you so much for reading the second installment of the Savannah Slashers Series; Melting the Ice! If you haven't read the first book Icing the Competition, I suggest you check it out! And be sure to catch the final installment, Thin Ice! I had so much fun writing this series, and I hope you enjoyed getting to know the men of the Slashers team and the women that have captured their hearts!

I want to thank one of my favorite hockey players, Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks for being my inspiration while creating Donovan Pierce, he wouldn't be who he is without Kane's charm and good looks!

And of course, the Slashers team owes a lot to the Blackhawks organization as a whole. I modeled them after the Blackhawks in every way, and you'll find a lot of similarities! Coach Turski, though named for my good friend Charlie, is, in essence, the great Coach and "chess player" Joel Quenneville, and my GM Mr. Stanfield, is of course inspired by the Blackhawks own GM Stan Bowman, who has found a way to keep the team away from the dreaded rebuild for the past six years! Here's to you guys and a few more Stanley Cup Wins!

I would also like to mention that the character of Lacy Johnson wouldn't be half of what she is without my amazing friend Tracy, who lent a little bit of her own temperament to Lacy on top of her profession and a physical description! I thoroughly enjoy bringing my friends and family into the writing process! And of course, a big shout out to my friend and editor Jean for all her hard work, I couldn't have done this without her!

If you enjoyed reading this novel, be sure to leave a review with your favorite retailer, and encourage your friends to buy a copy of their own! And don't forget to scroll down and check out a sneak peak of the third installment Thin Ice!

-April
Read on for a sneak peek of the third installment of the Savannah Slashers Series; Thin Ice!

A Quick note about Thin Ice; The excerpt you are about to read is taken from close to the middle of the book. While Thin Ice is the story of sweet, shy, Russian player Peter Petrovic, and the bold young woman that captures his heart, this novel is also about trust, lies, and greed. And I wanted to highlight all three in my sneak peak! With a "ripped from the headlines" feel, I want to note that this is NOT based on any FACTUAL events.

Rape and sexual assault are an unfortunate part of our society, and the effects of such heinous crimes are devastating. I am in no way attempting to detract or belittle victims of sexual abuse. This is a fictional novel, and I merely created a villain we can all hate! Enjoy!

Harmony was having a hard time getting a reading on him. One minute he seemed so damn shy, and the next, he was bold and kissing her like their lives depended on it! She wasn't sure what to believe. Not that she knew him very well, to begin with. Well, she knew he was a hockey player, and she knew his background, but she didn't really know him. Guess there was only one way to find out.

They walked back down the stairs together, Sadie having taken up her spot on the bed again and opting not to follow, and sitting down on the couch in the living room, Peter turned to her.

"Would you like me to turn on the TV?" He asked, seeming quite nervous himself.

Harmony shook her head. "I uh, I came to talk to you about last night."

"Oh," he said, looking to the floor. "I am sorry if I hurt you miss Harmony."

"Hurt me?" She nearly choked out, "Peter, you didn't hurt me."

He looked up, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. "But you left so fast. I thought for sure.."

He had thought he had hurt her! How sweet was he? Harmony smiled at him, placing a hand on the side of his face and stroking his cheek gently with her fingers. "Peter that kiss.." she began, trying to find the right words, and fumbling as his smile grew wider, his eyes deepening in color. "It was amazing Peter."

"Then why did you leave?" He asked, his smile dropping as the confusion set in once more.

"Because it scared me."

Harmony dropped her hand back into her lap, as his head cocked to one side. Breathing deeply, she looked down and picked at her fingernails.

"I dated this guy once," she said, still refusing to look at him. "He was a bad man Peter, and he hurt me."

"He hit you?" Peter asked, his voice soft but laced with steel.

Her head flew up, she looked him in the eyes and began to shake her head, "no Peter, he didn't hit me." Peter seemed to relax a little, nodding even, and laid a hand on her knee, as though to comfort her and allow her the courage to continue talking. She smiled to reassure him. "He was into some pretty heavy stuff, and he got into a lot of trouble for it. I was devastated, I trusted him you know?"

Peter placed a finger under her chin when she would have dropped her head again, "I would never hurt you Harmony. Is promise."

And somehow, she knew he meant it. Which scared her even more.

"Thank you, Peter," she said in a low hushed voice, choked up with emotion. "I just wanted to clear the air, I think I should be going now. It's getting late, but.." Harmony started to say, trailing off as he leaned away from her, his eyes devoid of emotion, pulling at her heartstrings.

So Harmony did something she knew she'd later regret if she thought too much about it. She grabbed Peter by the shoulders, and she crushed her lips against his, taking him by such surprise that he grunted, before finally wrapping her in his arms and leading the kiss in new directions.

It was rough at first, her own doing, but once Peter took over, it softened quickly, his lips gentle, his tongue prodding, and when she opened her mouth to him, he savored the taste of her. She moaned, gripping her fingers into the shirt at his back, their tongues twisting and dancing around each other. The heat she'd come to know he could create in her, pooling in her loins.

And what heat it was! It scorched her, from head to toe as she was immersed in it, and it felt glorious! Like molten lava pouring over them both, consuming them with such force, such passion. Harmony was on her back beneath him before she knew it, the weight of his body pressing her into the plush cushions of the couch, the hard length of his torso melting into the softness of her curves.

But it didn't scare her in the least.

His hands skimmed up and down her body, touching the inside of one jean-clad thigh, scraping the sensitive flesh of her abdomen, the pads of his finger digging into her arms and shoulder as the kiss spun wildly out of control. Harmony was sure they were going to make love, right here on the couch.

Until a loud noise sounded behind them, startling them out of their feverish embrace.

Viktor stood before them, clearing his throat. A tall blonde woman standing next to him, each with a knowing grin on their Nordic faces.

Peter and Harmony sat up quickly. Shoving a pillow into his lap, Peter put his face in his hands and groaned. Blushing, Harmony righted her clothing and stood, holding a hand to the newcomers.

"Viktor I presume?" she said, biting her lip, her cheeks still flushed and red.

Despite himself, and the laughter bubbling inside him, Viktor remained composed, taking her hand and giving it a good shake. "And you are Harmony? It is very nice to meet you. This is Sandra." he said, indicating the woman next to him. He too spoke in a Russian accent, though his was not as thick as Peter's and his English much more fluent. The woman next to him just smiled, taking her hand as well and shaking it in a delicate and feminine way.

"So nice to meet you both." she agreed, turning to Peter who had finally reined himself in, and now sat on the arm on the couch, his hand resting on the small of her back. "I think I should go."

"Do not leave on my account." Viktor cut in, thoroughly embarrassing them both for the second time.

"No, really, I should go." she said again.

"I will walk you out," Peter said, standing and piercing Viktor with an angry stare lest he decided to laugh at them again. "I am very sorry about that," he said, holding the door open a moment later, Harmony standing just on the inside of the threshold.

She smiled at him, then scuffed her feet against the hardwood floors as she looked down at them. Peter lifted her chin, and though he towered over her, he looked at her with such a softness that she almost didn't want to leave. But rather, she would have gone straight up to his room and taken up where they had left off, if only he'd asked.

Peter sighed, however, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. "Please say that I can see you again?"

Her eyes still closed, her mouth bereft as he pulled away, she curved her lips into a smile, "of course." she whispered, trying to tamp down the surge of emotion that roiled within her.

"Spokojnoj noči, miss Harmony," he said in Russian, his forehead still resting lightly against her own.

"How beautiful." she murmured, "but what did you say?"

"Da, you are beautiful," Peter remarked, laughing now as her eyes closed to mere slits and she looked at him with such suspicion. "But I merely said goodnight."

"Oh. Goodnight Peter." She sighed.

Harmony waved to him, and walked down the path to her car, looking over her shoulder twice to see him leaning in the doorway, his legs crossed over each other as he watched her walk away. His stance so masculine, his face, the smile that graced his lips, she'd dream of this tonight. She was sure of it.

Amanda Orsini sat uncomfortably in a hospital gown, on the exam room table, her arms crossed over her flat chest, a sneer on her face as she waited for Cassie to come back with some new clothes. She hadn't signed on for all this. Perhaps she should have looked into what a rape kit had entailed before agreeing to have one done.

How humiliating! Peter was going to pay for this for sure!

They'd forced her to stand on a piece of paper, while they shook out her clothes, combed through her hair, then made her undress, bagging her favorite skirt and the shirt she had torn. They took blood, they swabbed her mouth, and every inch of her body, they even scraped underneath her fingernails. They took pictures, and they examined her, down there. She balked at that of course, told them she hadn't been raped, and since they'd already photographed the scratch and swabbed it, she didn't see why anything else was necessary.

The stupid nurse, who claimed she was some sort of specialist, had told her it was all part of the procedure, since it happened so fast, how could she be sure he hadn't gotten a finger under her panties? Maybe he had left some of his DNA behind.

But she knew better, there would be no DNA down there, of course, she couldn't tell them that, so she let the woman do her job, gasping when her cold gloved fingers touched the inside of her thigh, the stupid woman! Of course, now that she had thought about it, something had occurred to her, and she had told the nurse she had a boyfriend, that they'd just had sex that morning.

It was another lie of course, but Travis, her current boy toy would cover for her, for a price. She'd have to remember to call him. The nurse nodded and made note of that, telling her she'd probably have to let the police know so they could rule him out.

And Cassie damn her, had taken advantage of the situation, leaving immediately to go and fetch some clothes for her, she had to come back to talk to the cops, though and promised she wouldn't be long. No, just long enough to leave her there alone while they poked and prodded her!

Just about the time Cassie returned, and Amanda was allowed to get dressed, two officers showed up to take her statement. They too claimed to be part of some special unit. Whatever, they were probably idiots too!

One of them was male, a big guy with a head full of gray hair and a protruding belly, probably ate one too many doughnuts. The other was a woman, she was on the taller side, with long black hair and brown eyes, prettier than she expected most cops to be, and she seemed sympathetic to her situation. Which was good, she'd need these two schmucks to believe her story, after all.

They made her go over the details several times, asking the same questions over and over, just in different ways. She also had to hand over her cell phone so they could send a copy of the picture of her and Peter, to their own phones. Satisfied with her answers though they turned to Cassie.

"And what about you? What did you see?" The man, who called himself Detective Allen, asked her.

Cassie seemed nervous, stammering a little in her response, so Amanda gave her a slight nudge, glaring at her. "I uh, I didn't see much, I heard the scream, and as she said I ran around the corner." she gulped, the two cops exchanged glances. "He must have heard me coming, because when I got there, I saw a man running away, and Amanda was lying on her back on the ground."

"And did you recognize the man?" The woman, her partner had called her Darla, asked, writing something down on a pad of paper.

Cassie shook her head, "he had blonde hair, though, I think."

The officers looked at each other again, then Detective Allen said, "Alright, I think we've got everything we need, if we have any further questions we know where to find you."

"That's it?" Amanda huffed, crossing her arms over her chest again. "Are you going to arrest him now?"

Darla, though she had been introduced as Detective Simms, shook her head, "We'll go and talk to him in the morning, but until the DNA evidence comes back, we have to tread quite carefully. This is bound to make a splash."

"You're damn right it will," Amanda shouted, furious now. "I want that bastard arrested! He tried to rape me! He can't get away with it!"

Allen made a lowering motion with his hands, "calm down young lady. We understand what you must be going through, but we have to follow procedure."

Amanda huffed again, "fine. How long does this DNA crap take?" she asked, rolling her hands around for effect.

Darla gave her another sympathetic look, "three to four weeks, if he cooperates."

Detective Allen looked over some notes made by the nurse that had done the examination, then pointed his pencil in Amanda's direction. "Oh, I uh, I see here something about a boyfriend? I'll need his name and address; he'll have to give a sample so we can rule out his DNA."

Crap, Travis's price was sure to go up. She thought to herself, then rattled off his name and contact information. She'd have to call him as soon as they left and make sure he wouldn't blow this whole thing out of the water. He'd likely want a big piece of the pie for having to lie to the cops. Then again, he might just find the whole thing exciting, the big dope.

"Is there anything else?" Amanda griped, she was more than just a little ready to get home and take a shower. This whole thing was turning out to be more work than it was worth. Yeah right, I'm going to nail his ass. She sneered to herself.

"I think we're good," Darla said, motioning to her partner who left the room. Then she handed a card to Amanda, "here's the number for a counselor we often work with, in case you need to talk about it."

Amanda took the card, shoving it in her back pocket and gave the officer a sad smile, trying to play it off. She thanked her, and once the coast was clear, grabbed Cassie and headed for home. Glad the hardest part was over.

Or so she thought.

When he and Darla, detective Simms, were back in their cruiser, Allen turned to his partner, "what did you make of that?" he asked, putting the car in gear and heading for the station. It was late, they'd get a fresh start in the morning, but they still had paperwork to do, and they'd need to submit the rape kit for testing.

Darla shook her head, "that poor girl, I can't imagine what she's feeling."

Allen snorted, "poor girl my ass."

"You don't believe her?" Darla asked, her tone incredulous.

Darla had a bleeding heart, wasn't cut out for this job. Detective Rick Allen had been doing this a long time, his current partner, Tammy Kingsman, was on maternity leave, so he'd been riding around with Darla Simms, a rookie by all accounts. Oh she'd done a few years on patrol, as well as a couple in homicide, but at 32 she'd decided she wanted to work sex crimes, and Allen wasn't sure why. Maybe she was good with the victims, but hell, sometimes it was hard to tell who the victim was, and in this case, he'd bet his pension it wasn't Miss Amanda Orsini.

But don't tell Darla that. Women just didn't lie about such things.

And maybe that was true ten years ago, when false accusations were few and far between, and even then probably had some grain of truth to them. But in this day and age? Nah, he didn't think so. People were suing people left and right, and he'd wager that Ms. Orsini was a lover scorned, or maybe the hockey player had just flat out turned her down. Yeah, that was more likely, she was just looking to make a buck off the poor guy. First thing on his agenda was getting a copy of her text messages for the last twenty-four hours and checking her call logs, social media accounts.

If she was smart enough to get a rape kit done, though, he'd bet she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut about things though too. Never hurt to look, though.

But he'd keep his suspicions to himself, for now, wait and hear Mr. Petrovic's side of the story.

"I've got an idea or two about what I think happened," he grumbled, never taking his eyes off the road.

"Mind telling the rest of the class?"

"Maybe tomorrow." They pulled into the parking lot of the precinct then, both getting out of the car and stretching before heading inside. "I'm beat, let's just get this paperwork done and call it a day. There's always tomorrow Darla, there's always tomorrow."

Harmony couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, Lupus lifting his head and whining at one point, clearly sensing her discomfort. She patted him on the head, then dropping her feet over the side of the bed, she got up and went to the kitchen.

After a glass of hot chocolate, and a few cookies, she plopped down onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't get Peter and their almost love making out of her head.

The way he had touched her, he was so gentle, and yet, she felt the undercurrent of power and desire. He had been holding back for sure. And that made him so much more endearing to her. That he could want her so fiercely and at the same time be able to control his urges so that his touch was tender rather than rough.

She had realized by now that she wanted him just as badly. She wanted to know what it felt like to be claimed by him, it wasn't enough that his eyes bespoke the kind of passion he could show her, she wanted to feel it. She wanted to feel him, hot and sweaty, and naked, all over her body. And she would. By God, she would damn it! To hell with caution, what had that ever gotten her?

Well, everything really. But whatever, Peter wasn't Hector, and she could see that as clearly as she could see the sun rise every day. She knew he came from a respectable family, and that he was dedicated to his job, he didn't do drugs, not even steroids, nor was he an alcoholic. So how much more did she really need to know about the man?

It wasn't fair to expect him to wait until she knew his entire life story, though she was certain he would if she asked him too. And that was just another check in the right box, Peter was being beyond patient with her, he was practically putting her up on a damn pedestal! Okay, so maybe he wasn't going that far, but he did treat her like some sort of delicate hothouse flower. Which was kind of sweet really. She'd never met a man who could be so gentle, and yet elicit such a powerful response from her. Peter was an enigma, one that she was determined to figure out.

A knock on his bedroom door woke Peter early the next morning. Not that he had slept all that well, to begin with. He had to take a long cold shower after Harmony had left, and then he had crawled into bed, shoving his head in his pillow and thinking embarrassingly back on how the night had all gone down. He should have brought her up to his room, for the love of God, he would have stripped her bare, right there on the couch!

The knock sounded again, pulling him from his memories, and rightfully so, every time he thought about Harmony and her lithe little body wriggling beneath him, he felt like he'd need another cold shower.

"Da, is open," he called out.

Viktor poked his head in, looking around the room as though he almost expected to see someone else in there with him, then with a sheepish grin, that quickly turned serious he looked at Peter and said, "the police are here to see you."

Peter shot up in bed, "the police?" he exclaimed, his thoughts racing, thinking about Harmony, was she hurt? Was she okay? No, no he had to get a hold of himself, this had nothing to do with Harmony. "The police?" he asked again.

Viktor nodded, "da Peter, the police. Get dressed and come down, they are waiting for you." He said, closing the door behind him.

Throwing on a pair of sweats and a team issued t-shirt, Peter pointed a finger at Sadie, who lifted her head and yawned, "stay!" he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him so she wouldn't follow. He took the stairs two at a time, and came to a halt just inside the living room. There sat two detectives in plain clothes, a man, and a woman.

The man stood, holding out a hand to him, "good morning Mr. Petrovic, my name is Detective Allen, and this is Detective Simms, if you don't mind, we have a couple of questions we'd like to ask you."

Peter nodded, "da, okay."

"Do you speak English fluently?" The woman, Simms asked him then, making Peter go a little red in the cheeks.

Sensing his discomfort, Viktor stepped in between them, "I speak fluently, Peter can understand most of what you say, what he cannot I will translate for him, and I will be happy to translate his response as well."

They seemed content with that, everyone taking a seat on either the couch or the loveseat, and the two officers pulling out their notebooks and flipping through a couple of pages. Detective Allen looked at him then, holding his pencil at the ready.

"Peter, can you tell me where you were around 10:30 last night?"

"Da, yes, I was here," he answered, his eyes narrowing. "What is this about?"

"All night?" Simms chimed in, her eyes shooting lasers at him. Or so it seemed, there was such contempt there, but Peter couldn't begin to understand why.

"I was at the bar, McDonough's, before that. I was there with Andre."

Detective Simms stopped writing, looking up at him, "Andre?" she asked.

"Andre Lepowski, he is our teammate." Viktor supplied.

Before Simms could say anything else, her partner cleared his throat, "And what time did you leave the bar Peter?" he cut in.

"About 10:15 or so, I do not have a watch, but I was watching the ESPN on TV, I remember it was just after 10 when last I looked at the clock on their station."

"Was anyone here with you when you came back? Perhaps you?" Allen asked, pointing his pencil in Viktor's direction.

Viktor shook his head, "I did not come home until after 11."

"Harmony was with me," Peter interrupted, blushing as he said her name. "Not at first, but she got here before Viktor did. She left when he came home."

"Harmony is the girl he's seeing, they were on the couch.." Peter cleared his throat and shot Viktor a look, laughing, Viktor turned back to the police. "She left when I came home."

The cops exchanged glances, Allen writing something down, and then Simms asked, "where does Harmony live? Do you have her address?"

"Net," Peter supplied shaking his head, "but she works at grocery store in Pooler is HomeTown something, I do not remember. We have not been dating all that long." He still had no idea what was going on here, but he was reluctant to get Harmony involved in any way. Truth be told, he knew exactly what the name of her father's grocery store was, but he wasn't about to tell them. Hopefully, they would just leave her alone.

Detective Allen reached into his pocket then, pulling out a small photograph and handing it to Peter. "Do you know this girl?" he asked. The two police officers watching his expression intently as he looked it over.

Peter squinted his eyes trying to see if he remembered her face, but no memory of her surfaced. "I do not think so." And then because his patience was wearing thin he asked again, "what is this all about?"

Viktor however, having lived in America for nearly a decade now, was quickly piecing things together. He turned to Peter, speaking in their native tongue. "I do not like this Peter, I think it is time we ask them to leave."

Peter shook him off.

"What's he saying?" Simms asked her partner, leaning in.

Allen shrugged, "hell if I know, I don't speak Russian."

"In English please." Simms piped up, looking disgruntled, she didn't like feeling the fool.

"Does Peter need a lawyer?" Viktor asked, Peter's mouth going wide at the remark.

"What do you mean Viktor? Why would I need a lawyer, what is this all about?" He whispered hoarsely, defying the lady cop and speaking to him in Russian.

"Will you excuse us please?" Viktor said, his tone polite though his words were clipped. He pulled Peter into the kitchen. "Peter, I do not know what it going on, but I think we need to call Erin. Do you remember a few years ago? About this time?"

Peter had to think for a minute, anger marring his handsome features as a thought came to mind. "You think this is like that? You think she is saying I raped her?"

Viktor shrugged, "I do not know, but it would be better if we do not talk to them again until you have seen Erin."

"It is agreed then, make them leave." Peter fled from the kitchen taking the stairs quicker than he had on the way down and slamming his door shut behind him.

Pulling himself together, as not to let his feelings show, Viktor leafed through a stack of cards, coming up with the one he wanted and holding it out to the male detective.

"This conversation is over. Peter will say no more. Please leave."

Allen took the card, turning it over in his big bear like hands a couple of times before looking up at Viktor, "I take it we're to call his lawyer if we'd like to talk to him again?"

"Yes. He will call and set up an appointment. Peter is innocent of whatever that girl claims.."

"Then why won't he talk to us?" Simms cut in, making the big Russian mad.

Viktor balled his fists, he had to control his rage, "You will please leave. Peter will see you in the office of his lawyer." He walked to the door then, opening it and looking down, waiting for them to leave.

With one more glance between them, the officers left. Viktor slamming the door behind them.

"Well," Darla said as they walked down the steps and opened the doors to the cruiser. "That was fun. What next?"

"I guess we take a little trip to see the girlfriend."

"And you know where she is?"

Allen nodded, "HomeTown Grocery Mart, that's in Pooler, I know the place well."

"Great. Hicksville USA." Darla muttered, putting her seat belt on

###
About the Author

After writing her first novel Contractual Attraction and naming her lead character after two of her favorite hockey players, April decided to write a series of books about two of her favorite things, hockey, and romance! Inspired by the men of the Chicago Blackhawks, the Savannah Slashers' series pays tribute to three of the hottest men in the league while introducing readers to new and intriguing story lines. April currently lives in Florida with her husband and two young sons, where she is hard at work on her next novel! April loves to hear from fellow romance enthusiasts and welcomes comments from readers!

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