Dirty Heartbreaker Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

@MaxD13 Make sure you tune in early for today’s @HamiltonSteelhawks game. Big surprise incoming.

@HawksGirl22 Is that what the big smile was all about in the selfie you took with me? Still coulda dropped a hint.

The Steelhawks home barn, January

Over the past year or so, Gabriella Abbandonato had learned to despise hockey. Not the game so much—she could take or leave it. But the players? They were mostly a bunch of jacked-up gym rats who thought too highly of themselves.

So naturally, she found herself sitting in the lower bowl at a hockey game, right at center ice. Great seats with a perfect view. Not that she gave a shit about a regular season match-up against Buffalo or whoever it was.

Her hockey-mad brother, on the other hand, was currently all but bouncing in place in spite of his usual too-cool fourteen-year-old attitude. “Holy crap, did you see Rocky’s shot? Do you know him?”

“Vaguely,” Gabby answered, scrolling through her phone. Last time she’d seen Rocky, he’d been more than a little drunk and trying to put the moves on her.

Dressed in their red and black home jerseys, a silver-stitched raptor in the middle of their chests, the Hamilton Steelhawks circled the arena, shooting pucks at the goalie on their half of the ice, while their white-blue-and-gold-clad opponents warmed up at the opposite end.

Her brother popped out of his seat and craned his neck. Over-long dark hair flopped into his eyes, and he pushed it back with a bony hand. “Oh my God, what a save Gilly just made!”

Somehow, she doubted Tommy had ever gotten this excited seeing her land a triple Lutz. Anyway, her days in competitive skating were over. She was a businesswoman now. And if she had to sit through a hockey game, it was because of her business partner and BFF, Addie.

Not that Addie knew what was up. Yet.

Addie sat on her other side, dressed in a red home jersey with the name DUCHARME plastered across the back, looking every bit the fan as Gabby’s brother.

Gabby hadn’t bothered with the home-team gear. She figured as long as she was here, she may as well look cute in an electric blue crop top that bared her shoulders and showed off the diamond in her belly button, along with a pair of faded jeans with tears in all the right places—though right now she huddled in her winter coat.

Not that she had anyone to dress for in this arena. No way.

The lights dimmed, and the players finished their warmup and filed toward their respective dressing rooms. All but one.

Brows lowered, Addie turned toward her. “What is Max doing?”

Gabby held up her phone and hit record. A spotlight zeroed in on Steelhawks number 13. Max Ducharme circled the ice, heading for the boards and handing his stick to the equipment guy. He whipped off his helmet and raked his fingers through the short curls at the top of his head before collecting something from the bench. Then he skated back to center ice.

A gradual hush fell over the crowd as the attendees realized something beyond the normal loud music accompanying a pre-game light show was in the offing.

On the scoreboard overhead, the camera zoomed in on Max, the image showing him looking up into the stands, but Gabby already knew whose face he was searching out. Addie’s “oh my God,” audible amid the quiet of the spectators, told her he’d made eye contact.

Max sank to one knee, his expression determined and steely, one hand raised. In the middle of his palm sat a velvet box. The spotlight somehow glinted off an absolute rock of a diamond.

A collective oh echoed through the arena. The scoreboard flashed with a message: Addison Holtz, will you marry me?

And then the camera zoomed in on Addie. She sat, round-eyed, her hands over her mouth. The tear hanging at the edge of her eyelashes probably wouldn’t show on the big screen, but Gabby could see it—that and the slight trembling of her fingers.

Under the weight of twenty thousand or so pairs of eyes, Addie lowered her hands, and fluttered them in front of her face, the movement a little manic, but the smile that stretched from cheek to cheek was absolutely radiant. Her fingertips settled onto her breastbone, and she took a few breaths.

“Go on,” Gabby nudged her. “Answer him.” If for a single moment, she’d thought Addie’s reply would be anything other than a heartfelt and emphatic yes, she’d never have agreed to this set-up.

At last Addie nodded, a single sharp motion of her head. “Yes.” Then another nod, this one coming more easily. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Max pumped his fist and let out a whoop as if he’d just scored the Cup-winning goal. Gabby stopped the video, uncurled her fingers from around her phone, and pulled Addie into a hug. The crowd erupted into pandemonium around them, the cheers drowning out all other sound for a good minute or two, long enough for Max to vacate the ice and for the Zamboni to come out.

Gabby breathed through her reaction—happiness for her friend, certainly, but woven through the joy was a thread of something darker. Jealousy. There, she’d admitted it.

Addie had landed her very own bad boy. The kind of guy Gabby found irresistible. The kind who didn’t fall in love. The kind who would give her mother fits.

“Honey, you need someone stable.” Mama had repeated the words so often they echoed like a mantra in her head. “Someone respectable. A man with a steady career who can provide for his family.”

Max and his teammates might have a steady career now, along with more money than some accountant or manager would ever hope to make, but an injury or a trade could bring it all to an end in an instant. Not to mention these guys were all high rollers who could have their pick of any girl they wanted. Definitely not the type of family man her mother envisioned as a son-in-law.

Max has settled down.

True, because if he hadn’t, there was no way Gabby would have encouraged this proposal—the same way she’d helped engineer the reunion after his and Addie’s break-up last year. If she’d detected the slightest indication that Max might do Addie wrong, she’d have told him to fuck off.

But he was an exception to the rule, and that rule was Gabby despised hockey players.

Really, she did.

Sure, they were hot. And loaded. And yes, they definitely had a bad-ass quality that might weaken a girl’s knees. But they were completely full of themselves. A couple of bad experiences had proven that point, and she definitely didn’t want to go down that road again.

When the cheers died down, Addie turned to her. Excitement—joy, even—sparkled in the near-black depths of her eyes. “He just had to do that in front of an audience, didn’t he?”

Gabby grinned. “That’s Max for you, the king of grand gestures.”

Addie swiped her cheeks. “He could have at least picked a place where I could accept the proposal properly.”

“There’s always later.” Right, later. As in after the game. Celebrating somewhere.

Or worse, in the dressing room, which meant Gabby would have to face him again.

“Gabby.” Addie clutched her forearm. “The wedding.”

“Yeah, that usually happens after you agree to marry someone.”

“He’s going to want to do something crazy big. You know he is.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Gabby tamped down another spate of jealousy. Addie’s life was about to turn into a whirlwind of guest lists and seating arrangements, flowers and cake tastings, menu choices and music selections.

Everything Gabby had always dreamed of planning for herself.

Addie worried at her lower lip. “What am I going to wear?”

Given that Addie was most at home in black jeans and a tee-shirt when she wasn’t wearing Max’s jersey at his games, this was a legitimate question. Thankfully, Gabby was already prepared with the answer.

“Well, we could spend hours in a bridal boutique with salespeople putting you on a podium and making you turn in front of a three-way mirror while they tell you how bee-oo-ti-ful you look…” In some over-the-top poufy confection that was nothing like Addie’s usual taste. Basically, her definition of a nightmare. “Or, I was hoping you’d let me try my hand at designing something. I’ve already sketched out some ideas.”

“Oh my God, you knew he was going to do this?”

Gabby raised her hands like the cops had just caught her. “Guilty as charged. I had to make sure you came to this game, didn’t I?”

Addie gave her shoulder a good-natured punch. “I should have guessed.”

“He even wanted me to help him pick out the ring,” Gabby added, rolling her eyes. “I tried my best to talk him into something smaller.”

And hadn’t that been fun—going ring shopping at Tiffany’s in Toronto with a hot hockey player who happened not to be her boyfriend. The salesgirl’s plastered smile and the extravagant price tags still haunted her memory.

Addie raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning on making a habit of being his partner in crime?”

“Hopefully this is the last time.”

“Right, because you’re supposed to be my partner in crime.” She pulled Gabby into a brief hug. “You’ll be my maid of honor, yes?”

Gabby returned Addie’s smile. The thread of jealousy unraveled and fell to the ground. The only thing that mattered now was to help Addie and Max have the most beautiful, memorable, glorious wedding ever. And Gabby, at least, could live vicariously for a few months. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#

Colby Shelton tossed his head back flipping his long hair out of his face, eyes closed, and let the jets of hot water run over him. He’d been in the shower long enough for his fingertips to wrinkle, and no closer to wanting to come out. He stretched his arms and kneaded his neck, trying to release the tension from the game. A nice victory, but he hadn’t managed to bury a single puck.

Fuck it. Ending a five-game scoring streak, tonight of all nights…

Don’t go there. Nothing special about tonight. Nothing at all. Nothing he should hate about the idea of proposals or binding vows…

He finally turned the water off and exited the shower, toweling himself off as he returned to the dressing room where the guys were passing around a few magnums of champagne. You’d think they’d won the Stanley Cup and not some random-ass game against Buffalo.

“Trying to drown in there, Ched? Hurry the fuck up.” Team captain Jamie Edwards twirled a well-worn red and black Steelhawks hat on his finger. Although team tradition dictated the captain choose the game’s MVP, the MVP of the previous game handed over the honor.

In this case, Colby.

“Mind if I put on my pants first?”

“What, you shy all of a sudden? You don’t have anything you can’t hide behind this.”

Eddie tossed him the hat as the rest of the guys laughed. Colby caught it with one hand before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs. “Good thing Beauty had a big head, eh?”

Beauty was Beauty Bérubé, a former team captain and legend both on and off the ice.

“Finally. Now we can announce who gets Beauty’s hat until the next game.”

“Like we don’t already know,” one of the boys called from the far corner.

“He scored a fucking hat trick…” Eddie paused as the guys whooped before continuing. “… and I’m guessing he’ll also do Bérubé proud and score another hat trick tonight with his lovely fiancée. Let’s hear it for Max!”

Cheers erupted in the dressing room. Max, his hair still wet from the champagne the guys had doused him with, got up from the bench to grab the hat.

Colby slapped his shoulder. “Nice going, man.”

The words sounded hollow to his ears, but Max simply grinned and adjusted the tattered brim before raising his arms victoriously to more cheers.

That was that, then. The end of an era. No more prowling the clubs with Max by his side, competing for the hottest girls, boasting about their exploits in the dressing room the next day.

Although Max hadn’t done any of that in over a year. Not since he’d met Addie. He’d fallen hard and fast, and now he was going to put a ring on her finger as if it was the next obvious step and not a lifelong shackle around his ankle.

Couldn’t blame Max, really. Colby had come way too close to that edge once. Thank God life had backhanded him, and he’d pulled back before plunging over the cliff.

He returned to his stall and pulled on his dress pants and shirt, though he left the collar loose and didn’t bother with the tie. Max swigged champagne straight from the bottle, then handed it back to Eddie. Damn it, his broad smile did make him look happy. Happier than Colby had ever seen him. Well, Addie was a great girl. Smart, beautiful, athletic.

The only problem was her choice of friends.

“Fuck, man, you look like you’re at funeral. What’s wrong? Jealous?” A towel around his hips, defenseman Ryan Rocque, known to all as Rocky, sat on the bench next to him.

“Get fucked,” Colby said. “I played like shit tonight. For some of us, that still matters.” Time to start living up to his nickname again. Although his teammates shortened it to Ched most of the time, the full version was Top Cheddar, because he was a goal-scorer. Supposedly. Tonight, though, all his shot attempts had hit the post rather than landing top shelf.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think Max is crazy. Sticking to one girl for the rest of your life…” Rocky laughed, showing a gap-toothed grin. “Shit. Not for me.”

“Keep thinking that, dumbass.” D-man Jayden Kelly headed to his stall on Colby’s right. “You find the right girl, sticking by her is no problem.”

Rocky took out his phone and swiped through it, then showed it to Colby. “Think she’s the right girl?”

Colby glanced at a selfie of a pouty brunette, posing in front of a full-length mirror in nothing but a lacy thong. “Jesus, man, is she even legal?”

Rocky shrugged. “Hmmm. I didn’t ask her age. Probably better not take the risk. How about we go to the club tonight? Killer, you in?”

Jayden shook his head and laughed. “I’ll go out for a drink if Max wants to celebrate, but after that, you’re on your own.”

Because yeah, he was shackled too, now. His girlfriend wasn’t even in the country, yet he’d rather live like a monk than take advantage.

Rocky sighed. “I guess it’s just you and me this season, Ched. Though maybe I can talk Gilly into it.”

“Whatever, man.” He had seen Rocky wheel chicks often enough, but he wasn’t looking for a new wingman. If anything, he was better off simply focusing on his game and leaving everything on the ice. “The rookies will probably hit the clubs with you.”

“Hey, Ched! You had any champagne?” Max waved him over from the other side of the room, and Colby went to join him, carefully avoiding the large silver hawk logo in the middle of the red carpet. Max handed him a magnum.

“That’s the last of it. Come on, help a guy out.”

The corner of Colby’s mouth lifted. “Much obliged.”

He polished off what was left in three gulps. Tepid and going flat, but the night was just beginning.

Max slapped his back. “I know I can always count on you to be the last man standing. That’s why you’ll make a great best man.”

Colby almost spit out his champagne. “Pardon?”

Max looked him square in the eyes. “Yeah. If you agree, that is.”

“Shit.”

He didn’t know what else to say. Why wasn’t Max asking Jayden? They’d known each other much longer. And both of them seemed to be at the same point in life. Settling. Not to mention that Colby didn’t want anything to do with putting together a wedding. The bachelor party was closer to his style—or finding the entertainment for said party, at least.

But refusing would be a dick move. The last in a long series of dick moves. Yeah, he might have given Max too much shit when he and Addie had gotten together. Obviously, it was time to make up for that.

“So, what do you say?”

Colby nodded. He could do this. It wasn’t his wedding, after all. “Sure, man. Whatever you need from me.”

Max gripped his hand, and pounded his shoulder. “Knew I could count on you.” But then Max’s gaze wandered toward the door to the dressing room. “Heads up, guys,” he called, “we have company.”

Colby whipped around. Addie was hovering in the corridor just beyond the dressing room door. Max strode to her and pulled her into a kiss that lifted her off her feet.

But she wasn’t alone. Right behind her stood a gangly teenager Colby had never seen before, craning his neck for a better glimpse into the room.

His heart lurched in his chest. She was there, too.

Gabby.

Right behind the kid, staring at the ceiling, her chin at the haughty angle he recalled so well. Her silky black hair was swept in a high ponytail, gold hoop earrings, plump lips, dark eyes meeting his for a second before flitting away. Her long, manicured nails were painted a pale shade of pink.

And that body. Holy fuck, that body. Her winter coat hung unzipped to reveal a tiny nothing of a blue crop top hugging her breasts and leaving the smooth plane of her stomach bare.

The tempting glitter of her belly button piercing caught the light. He wanted to give it flick of his tongue—just one—but enough to make her shiver. Because he knew what made her shiver. And he knew what that tight, luscious body felt like when he eased his way into her. He knew how perfectly they fit together and how fucking good it was when she pulsed around him…

“Well shit, no one told me there were ladies present!” Gilly, the Hawks’ goaltender, came out of the showers and hurriedly reached for a towel.

Eyes wide, Gabby flashed a grin. “Hey, Gilly. Long time, no see.”

Gilly waved before heading to his stall. “Always a pleasure, Gabby.”

Colby’s fists tightened, a bolt of red-hot fury coursing through him. But before he could snap at Gilly to put some goddamned clothes on, Max leaned over and whispered something in Addie’s ear. Then all three of them—Addie, Gabby and the kid—headed off.

Max came back into the room. “I sent them to the family lounge,” he said to Colby. “Come join us.”

“What do you need me for?”

“I promised the kid autographs in return for giving Gabby an excuse to get Addie to this game with her.”

“He got free hockey tickets,” Colby pointed out.

“And I promised him your autograph.” Max clapped his shoulder. “Come on, man, that’s Gabby’s kid brother. Plus, he’s a fan. You don’t want to disappoint a fan, do you?”

Christ. In this case, he most definitely did, if it meant avoiding Gabby. But he also couldn’t explain that without getting onto topics he’d rather not broach. “Fine, let’s go then.”

He let Max lead the way down the corridor to the family area, where a couple of the guys’ wives were corralling kids while waiting for their partners to emerge. Max, of course, headed straight for Addie.

Colby concentrated on the teenager, who was wearing a red and black Steelhawks tee-shirt and cap. “Hey, there, bud.” He put on his best meet-the-fans smile. “Enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, um…” The kid shut his gaping mouth. “You’re Colby Shelton.”

“Yep. You dragged the girls to a hockey game?”

Gabby stepped closer and put an arm around the boy. Almost like a mother hen with her chick. “Colby, this is my little brother, Tommy. He’s a big fan, and you’re one of his favorite players.”

Her rigid mouth and chilly gaze were the exact opposite of star-struck and adoring, but he sure as fuck remembered what other expressions that pretty face had worn around him. Lips parted, eyes glazed over…

He shook off the memory. “Yeah, Max mentioned it.”

“Would you sign my cap?” A grin broadening across his cheeks, Tommy pulled a Sharpie out of his jeans pocket. “Please?”

“Yeah, sure thing, champ. What league do you play in?”

Tommy’s smile faded. “Oh, I don’t…” His gaze drifted to some spot on the carpet. “My mama…”

“Mama was always afraid he’d break his ankles,” Gabby supplied, her tone sharpening.

Colby took the felt-tipped pen and scribbled his signature along with a tiny number ten on the bill of the cap. “Yeah, my mum was the same way.”

“Really?”

“My dad insisted we all play, though. My brothers and I.”

“Lucky.”

The kid didn’t know the half of it, but Colby wasn’t about to explain. The less he thought about his family, the better.

“I’d sign a game puck for you, too, but I don’t have any. Maybe you can ask Max.”

The grin put in a reappearance. “Wow, thanks, Mr. Shelton.”

“The only Mr. Shelton is my dad.” And God forbid anyone compare Colby to him. “Call me Colby—or Ched like my teammates.”

“Like top cheddar, right?” Shit, the kid was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He reminded Colby of a puppy whose owner had just given it a new chew toy. “Because of the way you shoot?”

Colby repressed an urge to ruffle the kid’s hair. At the same age, Colby definitely wouldn’t have appreciated that kind of attention. “You know your stuff. Too bad you don’t play.”

Gabby cleared her throat and nodded toward the other guys who were filtering into the lounge. “Okay, if you want a chance to talk to Max or get more autographs, you should go ahead. Papa will be here to pick you up soon.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Fine. See you later, Colby.”

Her brother slunk away, but she remained rooted to the spot, stone-faced. Colby crossed his arms over his chest. Was she waiting for him to say something? But what the hell did she want him to say?

“So…” Keep it simple and obvious, stupid. “Max and Addie.”

“You had to know this was coming.”

“I suppose you’re maid of honor?”

“Naturally.” She hesitated. “Max told me he was going to ask you to be best man.”

“He already has.”

Her dark eyes studied him warily. “And?”

He lifted his chin. “What else could I say but yes?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. “Of course.”

“Well, you know what this means, right?”

Gabby sighed. “We’re going to have to be adults about this and make nice with each other.”

Adults. Shit. She would have to use that word. Because that nothing of a top she was wearing was making all sorts of adult images run through his mind. “Can you do that?”

“Me?” She gave a haughty little laugh. Damn it, she hadn’t changed one bit since the last time they’d seen each other. Proud. Fiery. Drop-dead gorgeous. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for a friend.”