Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Becker looked as if he’d been struck. His mouth dropped open. “Seriously? You actually think I’d take a fucking bribe? I’ve been playing in this league for half my life. Trust me, I earn enough.”
Brody relaxed. “I didn’t think you took a bribe,” he said, trying to inject reassurance into his voice. “But what you just said…it sounds like you know more about this scandal than the rest of us. Did Pres tell you anything?”
Though he looked calm now, the vein on Becker’s forehead continued to throb. “I don’t know anything,” he said firmly.
“Well, I think I might,” Brody found himself confessing.
Becker’s head jerked up. “What are you talking about?”
Although this was probably not the time, and definitely not the place, Brody told Becker about what he’d seen at the rink. He spoke in a hushed tone, revealing his suspicions that Sheila Houston had confided in Craig Wyatt about whatever it was she knew, and that Wyatt was the one who’d spoken to the league.
He finished with, “Do you think I should do something?”
The other man released a ragged breath, looking a bit shell-shocked. “Honestly? I think it would be a bad idea.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You don’t want to get involved,” Becker warned in a low voice. “You’ll only cast suspicion on yourself.”
He mulled over his friend’s advice, knowing Becker did have a point. But then he thought of the team captain, and how subdued Wyatt had been lately. Sure, Wyatt was perpetually serious, but he’d barely spoken a word to anyone in weeks, and when he did, it was to yell at them for making a mistake on the ice. Brody got the feeling Wyatt might be in need of a friend, and as reluctant as he was to get involved, he wasn’t sure he could watch a teammate struggle without doing a thing to help.
But Becker remained firm. “Don’t confront Craig, kid. If it bothers you this much, I’ll talk to him, okay?”
He glanced at his friend in surprise. “You’d really do that?”
Becker gave a faint smile and said, “Unlike my old-timer self, you’ve still got a lot of years ahead of you. I don’t want to see your career tank just because Presley Houston might’ve decided he needed some extra cash.”
“My two favorite players!”
Speak of the devil.
Brody shot Becker a look of gratitude, then pasted on a smile as Presley approached them, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. Considering there were reporters outside just dying to roast Pres for these bribery charges, the man seemed surprisingly jovial. Either the allegations didn’t concern him, or he was doing a damn good job covering up his distress.
“Having a good time?” Pres asked.
“We just got here,” answered Becker.
“Well, the party’s just getting started.” Pres lifted his glass to his lips and emptied it. A second later he flagged down a waiter and promptly received a full glass.
“Is your daughter here tonight?” Brody asked. His voice came out more eager than casual. His peripheral vision caught Becker’s mouth creasing in a frown.
Pres looked distinctly ill at ease at the mention of Hayden. “I think she went out on the patio,” he said.
And there was his cue.
Brody didn’t feel bad leaving Becker in the clutches of the obviously plastered team owner. Sam had been in the business long enough to know how to handle every situation thrown at him, and he usually handled them as well as he did the puck. The man was a pro, through and through.
Brody stepped away, glancing around the enormous ballroom for the patio entrance. Finally, he spotted the French doors and made his way toward them.
His breath caught at the sight of Hayden’s silver-clad figure. She was leaning against the railing overlooking the grounds of the estate, her long brown hair cascading down her bare shoulders, her delectable ass hugged by the silky material of her dress.
Christ. She was fucking edible.
He paused at the doors, admiring her. To his surprise, she turned abruptly as if sensing his presence. Their eyes locked. And that was when he saw that her eyelashes were spiky with tears.
He was by her side in seconds.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he demanded, resting both hands on her slender waist and pulling her toward him.
She sank into his embrace and pressed her face against his shoulder as she mumbled, “What are you doing here?”
“I tagged along with a friend.” He gently stroked her back. “And I’m glad I did. You look awful.”
“Gee, thanks.” Her voice came out muffled against the front of his tuxedo jacket.
“Oh, quit sulking. You know you’re the sexiest woman at this party.” He swept a hand over her firm ass. The feel of her warm, curvy body made his pulse quicken, but he reminded himself that now was not the time.
“Now, tell me the reason for these.” He brushed the moisture from her lashes. “What happened?”