When Trey dreamed of one day playing professional hockey, he always imagined it would be for one of the top ranking NHL teams. He never fathomed he’d end up on a last place, farm team and struggling to live from one paycheck to the next. Instead of limousines, endorsement deals and accolades, he’s stuck with a rundown rink, jeering ex-fans and a crappy second-hand truck that only runs fifty percent of the time. Then his life goes from sucky to sucky-er when he’s blackmailed into coaching a group of kids from the local rink. Trey’s never been good with dealing with other people, let alone their mini-versions, so he’s certain it’s all going to end in one huge disaster.
As a member of the Battle Creek police force, Wade is proud of his town. Sure their local hockey team may be in last place, but with the new goalie, things seem to be looking up. When he finds out his nephew is being coached by that very same goalie, Wade can’t wait for a face-to-face encounter. He’s not prepared to find himself instantly attracted to Trey. Especially when it becomes apparent that Trey is hiding something from his past.
Trey wants to get closer to Wade, but knows to do so could spell disaster for not only him, but the rest of his family. Will Trey be able to give into his desires or will the past continue to hold him down?
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Between the Popes
Copyright © 2011 Stephani Hecht
ISBN: 978-1-55487-814-7
Cover art by Angela Waters
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, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Smashwords Edition
Between the Pipes
By
Stephani Hecht
Dedication
To all my readers who insisted that Trey’s story be told. This one is for you.
Chapter One
Since he’d been a certified rink rat from birth, Trey long ago grew accustomed to the hard biting scent of the manufactured ice. In fact, he loved the smell since it was the one place where he truly felt comfortable in his own skin, the sole place where he felt safe and free from the harsh judgment of others. Once he hit the ice, it didn’t matter what he was in the real world, or where he came from. It was just him against the other guys—hockey player against hockey player—and rarely did he come out on bottom.
However that did not mean he wanted his face nearly pressed cheek-to-ice to it, which is where his sorry ass currently was. True, his goalie mask made it so there wasn’t direct contact with the cold stuff, but it was still close enough to be a tad bit uncomfortable.
“Let me the fuck up,” he snarled with as much vengeance as a goalie pinned down by twin idiots could muster.
His older brother, Chad, who had planted himself on Trey’s upper back, gave his helmet a brain-jostling pat. “Nah, I’m pretty comfortable here so I’ll think I’ll stay for a while.”
Trey shook away the birdies and gave another snarl, although, thanks to his current position, the noise was mostly swallowed by the ice. “I said I was sorry for the cup check. What more do you want?”
“Somehow an oops, my bad doesn’t cover jamming a goalie stick between somebody’s legs,” drawled Devon, who was camped out on Trey’s legs.
“I only did it once.”
That earned him another helmet slap.
“Okay, maybe twice.”
Slap!
“Three times?”
Slap! Slap!
“Okay, I did it to most of the team,” Trey conceded. “Does that mean you have to give me brain damage?”