Taking a chance, p.1
Taking A Chance, page 1
Taking A Chance
A Fated Mates Paranormal Hockey Romance
Kat Obie
Copyright © 2021 by Kat Obie
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Epilogue
What's next
Dive into Colby's book
Also by Kat Obie
Falling Fast
Hockey Hottie
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
Dez
Desmond was out for a run when he caught a scent that made him head to the opposite side of his property. It wasn't the smoothest U-turn in the world, but it gave him the speed he needed to find out what the hell was going on.
He hated his lack of control while he was a wolf. It'd gotten better, but it was annoying as all hell not to have complete control of his muscles and quick transitions although he was a top athlete who could do it effortlessly as a human. He was basically like a pubescent boy in his wolf form: a little gangly and not quite in full control.
Then again, being bitten by a werewolf was never part of the life plan. Dez was supposed to be raising the Stanley Cup and crushing the NHL. He was so damn close to winning it all in his rookie year. Then it all fell apart.
As he ran towards the scent, Dez saw a man leaning against a parked car on the side of the private road that led up to his house. The guy was pale and nonchalant, his hands were in his pockets. Almost as if he was trying to make a point that he was non-threatening and benign. But his scent said it all. Vampire.
Desmond slowed down and watched the vampire. No need to go straight into attack mode. He needed to be smart. Lord only knew how old the vampire was. The man was powerful, considering he was out in the daylight. Out in the daylight without a care in the world, or the fear of burning to a crisp by waiting for him.
The vamp wanted something; Lord knew what. But Dez couldn't find out while in wolf form. On the downside, there wasn't any cover on this side of the property. He was pretty sure the vampire could see him anyway, so he started the painful process of changing back into a human.
Dez wished it was as seamless as it was in the movies. Changing from human to wolf was easy, and he always had tons of energy afterward. Turning back was so much more difficult. But, after the bones reshaped and the fur retracted, he saw himself as a human. It still blew his mind how the clothes he wore when he shifted would always disappear when he had his fur coat and return when he changed back. Today it was boxers and sweatpants that magically returned. He wished he’d worn shoes, but then again, the plan was to run back to the house.
Working the cricks out of his neck, Dez approached the vampire, the final hundred yards on foot. He walked slowly and carefully. Once he was in normal earshot for a human, the vamp said, "You're a hard man to find, Dez."
Yeah. Dez had bought a bunch of property in the middle of the Yukon. Typically, he only went into town for supplies, and even that was pretty rare. He didn't like being in town, let alone cities, anymore. Before the turn, he thrived in Los Angeles and Boston. After the attack, he gave up both his hockey career and life in the city. He liked to be alone.
As Dez got closer to the vampire, he recognized him as Skip Kalikappo. Dez knew him from his hockey days. But he couldn't remember if Skip was a GM, general manager, or owner of the Minneapolis Wild. Lord knew if Skip was still attached to that team. It'd been four years since Dez last followed hockey closely.
Desmond also had no clue that Skip was a vampire. Not getting too close to the vamp, Dez said, "Ever thought it was by design?"
"Yeah. But I was hoping we could talk for a bit."
The request was nice enough. Dez wasn't being compelled, although he still wasn’t sure if vampires could actually control a person, or if that was just fiction. It was something that Dez never imagined, that he could be turned into a werewolf, until the attack. He stayed silent and stared at the vampire.
Skip continued to speak. "While I would prefer to do it out of the sunlight, we could do it here if you prefer. I would rather us chat in my car, your house, or even at that coffee shop in that town that’s close by."
"Fuck no to that last suggestion." Dez didn't need the hassle of going into town. He wasn't mentally ready to deal with people, noise, and odors. There was a fleeting moment of disappointment from the vampire, which was shocking. Given the hockey connection, the politeness, and that rare moment of disappointment, Dez was intrigued as to why Skip was paying him a visit. Out of the options presented, Dez’s house seemed like the best place. "Alright, follow me."
Skip nodded, and the two of them walked up to Dez’s house. He’d always wanted to live in a log cabin. It wasn't anything glamorous, but it was spacious, and he’d built it by himself.
They had a couple of acres to walk to the house. Midway through the walk, Skip said, "Do you use your net a lot?"
Dez wondered how the hell Skip could see his net? Even with his improved eyesight, he couldn't see it from that distance.
"Some."
Skip seemed to approve of the answer, which made Dez wonder if Skip was here to talk about hockey. Dez wasn't the best conversationalist on a good day.
Once inside his place, Dez poured himself some cold brew coffee and leaned against the kitchen cabinet. He didn't offer anything to Skip but instead said, "Talk."
Skip continued to give Dez space by sitting in the far chair at the kitchen table.
"Well, as you probably know, I'm the GM of the Wild." Dez nodded but said nothing as Skip continued, "It's less known that I have the majority stake in the team. It allows me to create a very special team."
Special wasn't what Desmond would have called the Wild. When Dez had played, the Wild were only so-so but had the talent to do more. They always had a chip on their shoulders and would drive you into the boards harder than any other team, but their skills never went beyond that. Dez was tempted to ask what made them so special, but he had a feeling it had to do with his own special ability. "So, you want me to play again?"
For the first two years after the attack, teams were all after Dez to get back into the game, especially when his contract expired and they thought they had a chance to lure him back to the NHL. He couldn't do it. It was too much. He had so many wounds from that initial attack that it made it easy to walk away from hockey and not bat an eyelash. The one team that never tried to court him was the Wild, so it surprised him that Skip was now there.
Desmond’s agent would still call from time to time, but he would always turn down the idea of a return. Between the distractions from the fans and playing nice with the media, it all seemed impossible, especially when you added in the idea that every full moon you turned into a werewolf and shifting could happen when under too much stress.
Dez could probably play on a team now, but who wanted a guy who quit the game almost five years ago? Hell, even now, going into town was too much. How the fuck could he handle playing in front of ten thousand people, if not five times that?
"I do. You were a hell of a hockey player before your little accident, and you'll fit right in with the Wild."
Dez scoffed. He was basically a textbook example of what a lone wolf looked like. He lived in the middle of nowhere. He had no desire to be part of a pack or a team. "I think you are missing a crucial fact."
The rest of the world didn't know that the myths about vampires, werewolves, and other things that go bump in the night were more or less true. Dez sure as hell thought it was all a load of crap until he was bitten and Courtney was killed.
"Yes. Even before your display, I knew that you're a werewolf. That doesn't change anything."
Bullshit it didn't. Even if Dez wanted to be around people, which he didn't, he’d still have to deal with the fact that he wasn't free to do what he wanted, like a regular guy. He had to deal with the stupid full moon. Sure, he could change at will, but that option was taken away during the full moon.
He drank his coffee, not saying a word. He was going to let the guy keep talking—no need to blink first.
Skip eyed up Desmond before saying, "It's almost five years since you survived the run-in with Carlos Sequoia. You were the lone survivor from his string of attacks in both Canada and the US. Patrick Dunn, a friend and Wild co-owner and scout, helped you adjust for that first year. That was until you nipped at him."
Dez hated hearing about that last part. Paddy had been a friend from their junior hockey days, and he was a godsend in those early days—letting Dez know about the secret world he never knew existed. Paddy was pretty high up in the American pack, from what Dez knew, but he wasn't really sure what position he had.
Once Dez knew enough, he pushed Paddy away. Paddy was a good guy. He still checked in on Dez and was always willing to help.
Biting humans was a huge taboo. It was punishable by death, since biting humans usually led to blood-lust, and that could reveal too much about the world they were trying to keep secret. Although, Paddy wasn't human, and he’d always played it off like it was nothing.
"That was an accident."
"No, it wasn't," Skip said calmly, and it only proved how much the vampire actually knew. "It was a move by a defiant pup ready to be left alone. It was your first major show of dominance."
Fuck. At least Dez didn't seem to be in trouble. It was clear that Paddy had told Skip everything.
Why the hell did he come here to ask me about playing hockey again? I closed the door on hockey.
The only person Desmond stayed in regular contact with was his brother, Colby, who played for the Cleveland Sound. The closest thing Dez had to a friend was Paddy, and he did a damn good job at pushing him away.
Dez was blunt. "So, why are you here?"
"Frankly, the team could use your talent. You know how to handle yourself by now, and I'm sure you have that niggling in the back of your brain asking what it would be like to play again. Especially now that your brother won the Cup. A cup against your old team."
Yeah, Dez had that thought, but it was a passing fantasy. There was no way it could happen now. Even if he was in shape, it was impossible. Having to be a wolf at least three days a month during game time kinda fucks with the schedule. "Still not seeing how that will happen."
The vamp wasn't put off or even annoyed by Desmond’s tone. The man must have had the patience of a saint. "You're not the only one affected by the moon on the team. We only play matinee games on the full moon if we have to play at all. Can't have eighty percent of the team out on a regular basis without people catching on."
"Wait. Did you say eighty percent? How?" That caught his attention. At first, it seemed unreal. Then it all made sense: why the Wild was always the meanest, toughest team in the league. "Is that why they always had a chip on their shoulders?"
Then the bastard smiled. He’d piqued Desmond’s interest and he knew it. "As I said, it's a special team. But yes, half of our forwards and all our defensemen are shifters of some sort. Mostly wolves like yourself, but got some other stuff that's less common like bears and a sea otter. As for the last question, probably, but it's never been confirmed."
Never been confirmed, my ass.
It made so much sense. If there were that many shifters on the team and they were half as sensitive as Dez, the noises and aromas pissed them off. It also made it seem like there could be a way that he could play again if he could stay in control.
Skip seemed amused by Dez’s expression. He folded himself over the table and traced the surface with his fingers as he talked. "So, we fly you out for a personal tryout with the team, see if you can handle things, play in a game. If all goes well, I'll sign you to a five-million-dollar deal for the year. Then we can figure things out from there, but I don't see why you can't be there long-term if you don’t completely suck."
Then Dez realized why he made that move. Skip was pretending to give him dominance, wanting to make it seem like he was in control. Probably trying to appeal to his inner wolf, but Dez wasn’t someone who cared about dominance. Dez stared at Skip. "Let me think about it."
Skip nodded and pulled out a sheath of legal documents that were folded in his suit pocket. "Look these over." He left the papers on the table and walked out the door. "Since I'm pulling you from isolation, you'll have a choice to live in a house in the suburbs where you can have room to run, or close to the rink." Dez looked at Skip like he was crazy. He had to be if he thought Dez wanted to live in downtown Minneapolis. "Alright. Home in the suburbs, it is. I'll check in with you in a few days to see what you think."
With that, he sped off. Then again, it was close to noon, and walking outside at this time was never healthy for a vampire, even if they could withstand the sunlight. Regardless, it was still weird to see the guy sitting in the kitchen one minute and gone the next.
Dez was left alone to deal with a tempting offer. He looked over the paperwork. All seemed to be legit.
Skip was insane to be offering up a five-million-dollar contract to a guy like Desmond. He hadn’t played for so long.
Dez needed to get some perspective, so that meant calling one of two people: Paddy or his brother. Given that Paddy apparently worked for Skip, and Dez wanted relatively unbiased advice, that meant his NHL playing brother.
Colby picked up almost instantly and said, "Yo! You called early this month. Everything okay? Tired of being a hermit?"
"Things are fine. You'll be happy to hear, I might not be a hermit for too much longer. I got an interesting offer that is trying to lure me out of the Yukon."
"Damn, that has to be some offer if you are even considering getting out of your little sanctuary. What is it?"
"Five mil for a year of hockey."
"Shit. That's good money." Colby wasn't kidding. The kid was a phenomenal goalie, and he didn't make that much a year despite being the Sound's starting goalie. "NHL or one of the other leagues?"
"Minneapolis Wild." There was a pause. Desmond just wasn't sure what to say, so he waited for Colby to fill the silence since his brother was so much better at it. “What are you thinking?”
Thankfully, he picked up on it. "Well, they fit your personality."
Dez grunted. He knew he wasn't Mr. Charming anymore, but that didn't really give any indication whether he should take the deal or not. One thing that could influence his decision was the likelihood of actually lifting a Stanley Cup like Colby. Dez asked, "I've been out of the game for so long. Are they any good?"
"They are improving. They need a good center, though. Don't know many of the guys personally, but they’re anti-social like you. Take the deal. It’s a year if you hate it, go back to the wilderness. Besides, it would be fun to play against each other again. Sign it for me. Please."
It was amazing that Colby hadn’t tried to guilt him into taking a deal before now. For a while, Colby tried desperately to get Desmond back to old routines and into the world. Thankfully, Colby accepted Desmond’s new normal and hadn’t push too much.
“I’m thinking about it. Once I decide, I’ll let you know,” Dez said.
“Don’t forget to run the deal through our agent. He’ll spot anything hinky.” It was a great tip from Colby. “I'm happy for you, Dez.”
Scarlet
Scarlet got called into her boss' office. They needed to go over the players who would generate the most buzz and figure out which marquee players needed some content creation.
She opened up a folder to see who she’d be interviewing first.
The first photo was a shock. The long hair, the nose, and the strong jawline brought her back to her high school days. She didn't even need to look at the back to know it was Desmond Smith. He was cute back then, but he was hot as fuck now. Although his eyes stood out. She swore they were brown in high school, but now she saw steel-gray staring out. They were beautiful eyes. His facial expression also seemed more aloof. She remembered a guy who used to love to mug for the camera, but she was drawn to the guy in front of her more so than any of the smiling shots she’d had from him.
"Any issues with Dez?" Scarlet asked as she continued to read over the file.
"Besides trying to prove to critics why he's worth five million dollars, he's prickly," her boss said.
"Aren’t they all?"
It seemed like, compared to most teams, the Wild had nothing but prickly guys. Nobody wanted to make their lives easier by getting into the spotlight: taking interviews, volunteering for projects, or wanting to be famous in their place. These guys just wanted to play hockey and get on with their lives as quickly as possible without dealing with the media. Thankfully, the players didn't hate each other. They were close, and they all hated dealing with the press.
She read over the brief on the back of Dez's photo. "Is that right, he’s been off the radar completely since he quit hockey?"
"Believe it or not. That's right. So, you’ll need to create a little bit of extra buzz around him to take away from the fact he hasn’t played in years."
