The Puck Charmer Read online

  “I think he likes it that way. I guess all the media attention got to him and he just wants to fly under the radar. That’s understandable, don’t you think?” I ask, curious about her answer, because that’s why I’m here in small town Vermont. I need a break from the chaos and cameras, not to mention my parents. I love them, but after my brother got married and gave them a grandchild, they’ve been down my back to do the same. Apparently, they don’t like my lifestyle or my on ice/off ice handle. The Puck Charmer. Jesus, I could kill crazy Cason Callaghan with a mean right hook for starting that one. Although, I do love the guy like a brother. I love all the guys like family.

  Her ponytail bounces around her shoulder as she nods. “I guess I never thought of that before.”

  I shrug. “Why would you? You don’t have cameras shoved in your face every day, right? Never able to be yourself. People wanting something from you all the time.”

  “Nope, I would actually hate that.” She goes quiet for a long time. “I feel kind of bad that I never really considered his situation before. Do you think he might like a burning bush?”

  My head rears back. “What?”

  “You know a burning bush. I have a couple extras. Maybe he’d like one for his yard. I notice he doesn’t really take very good care of it, other than mowing it once in a while.”

  I grin. Clearly this woman is naïve and innocent and has no idea how things sound when they come from that kissable mouth of hers. A woman with red hair as lush and vibrant as hers probably shouldn’t be talking about offering anyone a burning bush.

  “I was thinking it might be a nice conversation starter,” she says.

  “Yeah, a burning bush is always a great conversation starter.”

  “Wait.” She stares at me and her face turns as red as her hair. “Oh, my God. I didn’t mean—” She shakes her head. “What is the matter with me?”

  “You banged your head, hard.” I say, giving her an out. “Things are coming out wrong.”

  “Yeah, that must be it.” Her smile is so sweet, so warm and grateful, my stomach tightens. The last time I met a woman as genuine as her was…never.

  “Do you know you have…” I brush my thumb over my cheek, and her eyes go wide. She pulls down her visor and groans when she sees the streak of mud on her face.

  “Typical,” she mutters.

  She brushes it hard with her hand. “Your day’s been going well, huh?” I tease.

  She puts the visor back up and checks the time on her phone. “Yeah, best day ever.”

  It might not be her best day ever but it sure as hell is shaping up to be a spectacular one for me, save for my hitting her trailer and her bumping her head. But I never would have met her otherwise. I’ll have to take extra good care of her to make up for it. Although she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who lets other people do things for her. Like I said, she’s different from the other women I know.

  She gestures for me to take another turn. “Just around the corner here. Big house, pillars in the front.” I take the turn and she continues with, “How do you know Tyler, anyway?” She gestures with a nod. “Right here.”

  I pull off the road, and head up a long, paved driveway, lined by shrubbery. “We both actually grew up in Boston.”

  “Oh wow. Do you still live there?”

  “My parents and brother are still there,” I say, hedging. When I’m not on the road, I spend most of my time in Seattle training. My summers are spent traveling or at my cottage on Wautauga Beach. A bunch of us all bought properties there. I’m supposed to head back to Boston for a week, but I’ve been putting it off. “What about you? Your family all still here?”

  She goes quiet, her face paling a bit. “Yeah,” she says quickly. “Park around back.”

  Okay, I’ve clearly hit on a touchy subject. Leaving it for the time being, I drive around the mansion and park. I glance around the massive yard. “This place is gorgeous.”

  She sighs. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “You’re redoing the backyard?” I take in the huge swimming pool, the shrubbery, and the trees.

  “I’ve done most of this. I have some trees to plant, and some shrubbery to prune, and…” She glances at her watch, her eyes wide. “I’ll be right back.”

  She jumps from the cab of the truck and in the rearview mirror I catch sight of her darting around the house. I grin as I watch her go, and while those coveralls shouldn’t be sexy, somehow they are on her. I chuckle slightly and turn off the vehicle.

  I hadn’t planned on bumping into anyone today—literally. The only thing on my agenda was to explore Main Street, grab a few groceries and keep a low profile. Damned if my day isn’t looking up.

  I adjust my ballcap and climb from the truck. The warm afternoon sun shines down on me and the water in the pool is a welcoming sight. I walk toward it, guilt niggling at me. Should I come right out and tell her who I am? I’m not used to people not recognizing me. Bending, I sniff the rose bushes and tension leaves my shoulders. This is exactly what I needed to help me relax today.

  I wander around for a little while longer, and just when I think my new friend—she still hasn’t told me her name—has abandoned me, she comes around the corner.

  “Everything okay?” I ask when I see the frown on her face.

  “Yeah, I just...” She wipes her brow. “I have a lot to do. Mrs. Henderson changed her mind on where she wants her trees, and now I have to dig new holes.” I glance past her shoulder to see a big Rolls Royce cruise down the driveway.

  “That would be Mrs. Henderson?”

  “Yeah. Listen, I can call you a cab or something?”

  “You think I’m leaving you?”

  Her face scrunches up, like I just suggested we cook bacon in the nude. Although us being nude is not such a bad idea.

  “Why would you stay?” she asks.

  “I’m responsible for you banging your head. I’m not about to abandon you out here, in the heat…” I pause and wave to the trees in her trailer. “Carrying heavy shit like that.”

  “It’s not shit, it’s trees.” I’m about to protest when she grins. “I spread the shit, or as we call it in the landscaping world, manure, down earlier.” We both laugh and then she goes serious. “You don’t have to stay, Alek. I’m sure you have much better things to do.”

  “You would think, wouldn’t you?”

  “What is it you do exactly?” she asks, her big green eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes me.

  “I’m sort of in between things.” Again not a total lie. I’m in between hockey seasons. “So it looks like I’m free and I don’t have anything better to do than help you. We do have one problem, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t know your name.”

  “That’s because I didn’t tell you.” She walks to the back of her trailer and opens the gate.

  “You didn’t want to exchange insurance information and you’ve yet to tell me your name. Are you in the witness relocation program or something?” I take in the wide expanse of yard and the greenery for miles. “Buttfuck nowhere is usually where they send people.”

  She laughs and whacks me. “This is not Buttfuck nowhere, and I’m here because it’s home.” She tugs on a pair of gardening gloves. “If you don’t like it here, then what’s keeping you. Move along, city boy.”

  “Captain Jack,” I say, leaving out the part where I’m seeking solitude. “He’s kind of counting on me.”

  “Captain Jack?”

  “My buddy’s Jack Russel terrier.” Other than my teammates, no one has really counted on me or expected much, and I’m not about to let Tyler, or Captain Jack down.

  She laughs, and the sound fills the air. “Clever name.”

  She tosses me a pair of clean gloves. “What are these for?” I ask.

  “If you insist on staying, you’re working.”

  I step up to her and touch her arm. Her gaze jerks to mine. “Seriously, are you okay to work?”

  I lightly bru
sh her hair from her forehead, and wince as I take in the swelling. “You have a bump on your head.”

  She shakes her hair back into place and shakes off my concern. “I’m okay,” she says and I’m not sure I believe her. She reaches for the heavy tree, and I stop her.

  “At least let me do the heavy lifting.”

  “Alek,” she says, her voice so steeped in concern my stomach tightens. I turn back to her and note the uneasy way she’s shifting from foot to foot. “I can’t really pay you for this.”

  Shit, does she think I’m doing this for a paycheck? Then again, why wouldn’t she. I’m driving around in a beater I purchased a few days ago. I wasn’t going to drive around in my sports car when I’m incognito. Besides, I have enough of my own money. I don’t need hers, and from the looks of things, she doesn’t have any to give.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not doing this for the money.”

  She angles her head. “Why are you doing it?”

  “Because I want to.”

  She goes quiet for a long time, like she doesn’t know what to make of me. After a while, she gives a slow shake of her head. “One more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My name is Alyssa.”

  “Alyssa,” I say, trying it out on my tongue and liking the way it sounds. It’s soft and sweet like her. “Can I call you Aly?” I ask.

  Her grin is cute, innocently seductive when she arches a brow and flat out says, “No.”

  3

  Alyssa

  I steal a glance at Alek as he wipes his forehead with his forearm and puts his hat back on, covering his sexy mess of dark hair. His muscles flex and relax again as he wrestles the heavy apple tree from the pot and plants it in the ground. I totally get the appeal of a hot guy doing manual labor. There should be an Olympic category for this kind of perfection.

  Even though it’s my job, he sort of took over the second we arrived, refusing to let me lift anything or do any of the heavy work. Apparently, he’s still worried I might have a concussion, and more than once this afternoon, I caught him standing a little too close, his gaze roaming my face like he was checking for signs of a head injury. For a girl who’s always done everything herself, always took care of everyone else, his concern is throwing me off my game. I’m not saying I don’t like it, though…it’s just that it’s confusing the heck out of me.

  I lean on my shovel and grin as I watch him work. It’s not my birthday, and it’s certainly isn’t Christmas—not even Christmas in July—so I can’t help but wonder what I did in a past life to deserve this kind of help—from a smoking hot stranger.

  He’s also cute, funny, and strong—and so far, he’s not really showing any signs that he might be a serial killer, not that I’d know the signs anyway and there is something about him that’s trustworthy and puts me at ease. Strange really, as I’m not one to trust easily. The truth is, if I were in the market for a guy, I’d be all over that deliciousness. It’s odd really. Rolling up the sleeves to help is the kind of thing I’d expect from country folk, not city boys. Maybe chivalry is still alive outside of Bridgetown, or Alek here is just an anomaly.

  “How does this look?” he asks, and lifts his head to catch me staring at his broad back. I turn my focus to the fruit tree he’s holding upright in the big hole he insisted on digging, while I filled in the others. When a client has a change of heart and wants to move things around, you move things around, despite the fact that you’d already spent hours digging up the backyard.

  “The trunk is crooked. Move it a little to the right.” I say. He readjusts the tree. “Mmm, I think you’ve gone too far. A little to the left now.” He does as I ask, and I think it’s still off kilter a bit. “Right again.”

  He casts me a quick glance. “If you’re fucking with me,” he grumbles, a playful look in his eyes as he gives the tree a little nudge.

  I’m not normally flirty with guys, but I decide to play along. “What if I am?” I ask, and plant my dirty gloved hand on my coveralls. “What are you going to do about it?”

  What do you want him to do about it, Alyssa?

  “You really want to know, Aly?”

  He’s pushing my buttons to get a reaction out of me, and I have to say, I never liked it when people shortened my name—until now. “Yeah, I want to know.”

  His grin is so deliciously naughty my heart pounds a little harder. “Come on over here and I’ll show you.”

  “I’m coming over there, but it’s to plant the tree, and you can’t show me anything with your hands full.”

  “Wait until they’re not,” he says, the promise in his voice teasing the needy spot between my legs.

  I chuckle, loving the easy comradery between us, and toss the shovel aside. I hold his gaze as I drop to my knees in front of him. His eyes go wide and his throat makes a sound as he swallows. It’s so damn loud it drowns out the bird chirping in the tree a few feet away.

  “What…what are you doing?” he asks.

  “Putting soil around the trunk.” What the hell is the matter with him? Those gorgeous brown eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. I shuffle on my knees. “What did you think I was doing?”

  “Um…well…”

  He swallows again and I instantly realize that I’m on my knees in front of him, my mouth perfectly aligned with his…trunk, I groan, and back up an inch.

  “Oh, my, God,” I grumble and grab fistfuls of the soil and start filling the hole.

  Don’t think about his parts, Alyssa. Concentrate on the job at hand.

  Great, now I’m thinking about parts, and hands, and jobs, or rather hand jobs. What the hell is the matter with me? When was the last time a guy threw me off like this?

  Down on all fours, I fill the hole quickly. I can only imagine I look like a dog digging for a bone. How’s that for attractive? Not that I’m trying to impress this guy. He’s a city boy who will be gone soon enough, leaving this town and everything in it in his rearview mirror. I pat down the soil until it’s tight around the tree trunk. When I finish, I glance up at Alek, and catch his gaze moving from my ass to my face.

  “You can let go now,” I say.

  “It won’t fall?”

  “It shouldn’t. It’s packed tight.”

  He lets go and stands back, giving his head a slow shake. “How the hell do you do this job alone?”

  “With great effort,” I say, and flex my biceps as I push to my feet. “And these.”

  He gives my muscles a squeeze and his grin is sexy when he says, “Impressive.” I look over his body, but I’m the one who’s impressed. Whatever he does—or did—for a living, must have been labor intensive. He glances over his shoulder. “What time is Mrs. Henderson supposed to be back?”

  “She went to the spa, so a couple hours.”

  He arches a brow. “Want to jump into the pool?”

  I give a fast shake of my head. “No, we can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” He tugs off his gloves, and shoves them into his back pockets, giving zero fucks that their dirty.

  “That’s trespassing.”

  He grins. “You’re a rule follower.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Usually,” he says, “But you look like you could use a dip, and I sure as hell need to cool down.”

  “Even if we were allowed,” I say, and walk back to my truck. I open the cooler in the back and pull out my water bottle. “We don’t have bathing suits.” I hand the bottle to Alek. “It’s the only one I have. You don’t have any cooties, do you?”

  “Cooties?”

  “You know, like germs.”

  “I know what cooties are, Alyssa, and no, I don’t have them.” He eyes the bottle before taking it from me. “Not anymore, anyway. Not since the antibiotics.” His grin is playful, when he asks, “How about you?”

  “No.” How could I? I haven’t been with a guy in forever.

  He takes a long drink and hands it to me. I tip it and take a mouthful, a
nd it’s so oddly weird how intimate it feels to be drinking from the same bottle. The cool liquid coats my parched throat, but it instantly dries again when he tugs off his T-shirt to reveal hills and valleys that draw the eye down to the waist of his jeans—and a little further south, if I’m being totally honest with myself.

  He turns from me, and I enjoy the view from behind equally as much, until I realize he’s headed to the pool.

  Panic invades my stomach. “Alek, don’t.” I hurry toward him and capture his arm. “I can’t lose this job.”

  His face softens as he glances at me. “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t do anything to jeopardize your business, Alyssa.”

  When I realize my hand is still on his arm, I jerk it back. “Oh, okay.”

  He steps up to the house, and cranks the faucet until water pours from the hose. His grin is mischievous, and teasing as he glances my way.

  I back up. “Don’t you dare.”

  He turns the hose on himself, and his eyes drift shut as he soaks his body. His moan fills the air and I stand there like an idiot, jealous of the water dripping down his athletic frame. Once he’s soaked, he takes a drink from the end and shakes out his wet hair.

  He holds the hose up. “You sure?” he asks.

  Dammit, he does look refreshed. “Let me wet my hair.”

  He steadies the stream, and I bend forward, letting him wet my head. The water drips over my face, and down my clothes, cooling my overheated body—which might have more to do with Alek than the hot afternoon sun.

  “That feels good,” I say, and stand. I take off my gloves, wring out my ponytail, and wipe down my face. “A swim would have been nice, but…”

  “My buddy has a pool.” He shrugs. “Do you have any other jobs after this?”

  I look around the backyard. “No, actually. This is it for the day. Tomorrow I have to trim the hedges and mow.”

  “You want to come for a swim?”

  “Actually, no that’s probably not a good idea, and I do have somewhere I need to be later tonight.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “I should probably get you back to your car.” I head back to the garden area and collect my shovels and rakes as he turns the hose off and coils it. With everything loaded back into the trailer, I’m about to slide into the driver’s seat.