Seducing The Matchmaker: One Man Rush / Taking Him Down / The Personal Touch. Meg Maguire

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       6

      BLADES FLYING OVER THE ICE, Kyle Murphy deked two defensemen, protecting the puck as if it was his firstborn. Beating the competition, he came face-to-face with the goalie, a rare one-on-one shot opportunity. An opportunity he excelled at creating. Lifting his stick, he faked a drive to the body, refired and … missed the goal all together.

      For a moment, his teammates seemed too surprised to react. That shot was his bread and butter. The money shot.

      Didn’t matter that this was a practice. He practiced like he played, and he always made that frigging shot.

      Curses streamed from his mouth, rare for him even though the practice arena was frequently filled with creative and functional swearing alike.

      Behind him, the coach’s whistle blew to end practice. Leandre Archambault had the audacity to clap him on the back.

      “Tough shot, Murphy.” He almost kept a straight face when he said it.

      Bastard.

      “Ignore him.” Axel was in his face before Kyle could fire back something he’d regret.

      The Finn dropped a heavy arm around Kyle’s shoulders and steered him away from their teammates as they headed toward the tunnel to the locker rooms and workout facility.

      A foul mood had dogged him ever since he and Marissa had exchanged a terse good-night when he’d dropped her off at her car yesterday. He’d hoped that a good hard practice this morning would take the edge off, but if anything, he felt fiercer than ever.

      “I don’t miss that shot,” he told Ax, even though his foster brother knew it as well as he did. “Leandre isn’t taking the starting position from me because of one missed goal. I’m not worried about him. But I don’t know what the hell went wrong just now, and that …”

       Scares the crap out of me.

      He didn’t finish the sentence because he didn’t need to. Ax would understand because hockey was a language they spoke fluently. Hell, some sports writers had suggested they had a telepathic connection on the ice. Their shots to each other were as fluid as any in the game, since they had a sixth sense for where each other would be.

      “What’s wrong today?” Ax let go of him and pulled his helmet off. A dark red U-shaped scar on his cheek added to the intimidation factor of an already big guy.

      The coaches were heading in now, the ice clear of everyone but them. Outside the glass boards, Kyle could see the rink was about half full of fans who’d come to see a Phantoms’ practice. Too bad he’d put on such a crappy show.

      Ax wanted to know what was wrong?

      “Marissa Collins.” His problem had a name. “The woman from the fundraiser.”

      “You’re kidding me, right?” Circling Kyle on his skates, Axel gave his shoulder a light punch. “It’s you who always said women complicate the game. I didn’t buy into it until the last one cheated on me and I started to play like crap. Now?” He made a decisive sweep with his hand. “No women while we’re in the play-offs. End of sentence.”

      “Yeah. That’s the principle I’m working under, too.” Although if Marissa had shown any inclination to take things further last night, he had the feeling his resolution would burn to ash in the face of the heat they generated.

      “What do you mean?” Axel stopped, glowering. “You said she was married.”

      “She wears a wedding ring as a decoy because she’s a professional matchmaker and she doesn’t want to attract attention.”

      “Doesn’t she know some guys hit on married women just for the hell of it?”

      Unfortunately, they had a guy like that on the team.

      “I’m not sure. Either way, nothing happened between us.” Other than Marissa giving him a matchmaking questionnaire to fill out. The memory still ticked him off. “But I can’t stop thinking about her.”

      “Interesting.” Axel nodded toward the tunnel, where the fans were now clustered by the players’ exit, hoping for autographs or the chance to say hello. “You played it safe with her, yet you’re still paying the price for it today.”

      More like she’d played it safe with him. But the end result remained the same. His game sucked eggs and he needed to get on track before the next series in Pittsburgh. The Phantoms franchise hadn’t brought him here to play the way he had this morning.

      They halted their conversation as they reached the mouth of the tunnel, where fans could stand above them and reach down with programs to autograph. Mostly, on a practice day, they came to just shake hands or exchange a word. These were the hard-core fans, local die-hards or faraway supporters who’d made a trip to catch a couple of games and a practice. A few hockey groupies showed up every day, a handful of women who’d had a hard go of it in life and enjoyed the sense of family that a sports team offered.

      Ax took as much time as Kyle did, shooting the breeze with some, signing pucks and flyers for others. When they finished, they trudged over the carpet on their skates toward the locker room.

      “Maybe the rules don’t apply to this woman,” Axel observed, picking up where they’d left off their conversation.

      “Marissa?” Axel had managed to get her in his head again just when he’d avoided thinking about her for at least five minutes.

      “The matchmaker,” he clarified, his round vowels СКАЧАТЬ