Page 15 of Lucky Shot (Moonshot Hockey #1)

RUBY

“How did this happen?” Olivia asks, voice filled with indignation on my behalf. We’re on a video call and it’s so good to see her face. “I thought Molly set everything up with the hot hockey player.”

I’m checked into my hotel room, which is as bad as Nick warned me. There are fourteen rooms, hence the name and not the number of murders (at least I don’t think that part is true). However, it looks like the kind of place that it might be true.

“She did. It wasn’t her fault. Somehow the communication got crossed and Nick’s dad agreed for him without running it by his son. Molly had no idea either,” I say, readjusting in a feeble attempt to get comfortable.

There’s no chair in the room and the multi-colored comforter on the bed is polyester and looks like it came from the nineteen seventies. Not to mention it smells awful, like cigarette smoke and a hundred years of dust.

I pulled back the top covers, hoping the sheets would be less horrifying, but it only got worse. I’m not sure if it’s blood or marker or some other red-tinged stain, but there’s no way I’m sitting on the bed, let alone sleeping in it.

I’ve made myself at home on top of a small table. It’s maybe three feet long and two feet wide, but if I curl up tight then I think I can sleep on it. It’s only one night. Tomorrow I’m getting the hell out of here.

“Wow,” Olivia says.

“I know. I can’t believe Nick’s dad thought he would be okay with me showing up randomly on his doorstep.” I’ve known the guy for a day and could predict how well that’d go over.

There must be some reason Nick’s dad rented out the cabin and signed him up to be interviewed, but I can’t guess why. Does it have something to do with him not talking to the media?

“Is Molly going to find someone else?” she asks. “Or did you get what you needed already from the hot hockey player?”

“Will you stop calling him that,” I say with a small chuckle.

“He’s hot. I looked him up.”

I make a noise of disagreement. “He answered some of my questions, but I was hoping to have more time while I was editing for anything that came up during the process.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I will figure it out. And in the meantime, I’ll be back in Lake City. Dinner tomorrow night?”

I can’t stay in this place another night, so despite my reservations about heading home, it’s a far better option than this.

In the corner of the room, movement catches my eye. A very large bug skitters across the floor and disappears behind the bed. Oh god. My skin itches and my stomach churns. Maybe sleeping in my car is a better option.

“Ruby?” My sister calls my name.

“Sorry. I…thought I heard room service outside.” I don’t think my amazing, sweet sister can handle the horrors of this place. I’m very carefully angling the phone away from anything that would set her alarm bells off.

“I said the Mustangs are playing at home again tomorrow night. Flynn isn’t pitching, but it’s hat night.

Free pink hats to the first thousand people in the park and all you can drink lemonade.

You should come with us. Gigi is going. She misses you.

So does Greer. So do I.” She steps out onto the back patio of her house.

The sun has set but the last bit of light still streaks through the dark sky.

“I’ve been gone for forty-eight hours.”

“Still true.”

“I miss you too.” And I do, but I’m also disappointed. I wanted this summer to be a clean start for me. And instead, it feels like a continuation of my year from hell.

“Did the Mustangs win tonight? The game was on at the restaurant earlier.”

“They did.” Her voice is filled with pride. “And now he’s out here building a playset for Greer.”

She talks louder now as she slides the door closed behind her. “Ugh. It’s still so hot outside. Enjoy Montana while you’re there. I’d kill for a few days anywhere that I wouldn’t sweat through my clothes. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Her husband comes into view.

“I’m talking to my sister,” she says.

“Ruby!” Flynn lifts a hand. He’s sweaty and shirtless and pulls his headphones down to rest around his neck. “How’s Montana life?”

“Don’t ask,” Olivia tells him.

“Uh-oh. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I’m heading back in the morning,” I say.

He winces. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Bummer.” He kisses my sister on the cheek and then dips his head lower. She smiles and the phone tilts so I can see him rubbing her pregnant belly. He murmurs lovingly and my heart swells.

Olivia giggles and then swats playfully at him. “Don’t get the baby all excited. I don’t want her to kick me all night again.”

Flynn chuckles softly as he stands tall.

He’s a foot taller than my sister, but they’re so cute together.

If I hadn’t witnessed their love story, I might be inclined to believe that happily ever afters only happen in books.

Seeing them interact, hearing them talk about the other, watching how they can’t stop kissing and touching, it’s hard to deny that big love exists.

Maybe not everyone is fortunate to find it, but it’s out there.

“I’m going to finish up here and head in and shower,” Flynn says to her, pulling his headphones back on.

“Okay.” Olivia leans forward this time, and I can hear them kiss but can’t see it. Several seconds pass with no indication that they’re going to come up for air anytime soon.

“Don’t mind me over here listening to you two make out,” I say with a laugh.

“Oops. Sorry,” Olivia says with a flush to her face. Her blond hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. She has that glow that pregnant women sometimes get. She’s due in two months. I can’t wait to have another niece.

Flynn comes back into the frame. “Later, Rubes. Travel safe.”

“Bye,” I call as he walks off.

Olivia focuses back on me, but the happy and in love expression doesn’t leave her face. “So…what’s the plan? You’re welcome to stay with us.”

“And listen to you and Flynn make out all the time?”

“Not all the time.”

“Thanks, but I can crash with Mom and Dad until I find a new place. And once I’m settled, I’ll look for another hockey expert.” Then I remember something about my wonderful brother-in-law: He has sporty brothers. Four of them. “Do any of Flynn’s brothers play hockey?”

The Holland brothers are all professional athletes—motocross, football, baseball…I don’t remember any of them playing hockey and I’m certain Flynn would have mentioned it before I headed all the way to Montana, but it never hurts to ask. Maybe they played hockey as kids or something.

“No, sorry. But you know his agent, Everly?”

I nod, noncommittally. Flynn talks about his agent sometimes, but I’ve never met her.

“Her husband plays hockey. Do you want me to ask Flynn to put you in contact?”

Before I can answer, there’s a loud bang next door.

“What was that?” Liv asks with a look of concern aimed at me.

My voice wavers slightly. “I think it was a car door.”

“Are you on the first floor?” Her brows pinch together as she studies the area around me more carefully.

“Yes.” There is only one floor. It’s one of those roadside motels where the doors are accessed directly from the parking lot instead of through a lobby.

“I better go,” I say.

“What about your hockey expert?”

“I’ll find someone,” I say with as much determination as I can muster. “But thank you. If it comes to that, I’ll see if my awesome brother-in-law can pull in a favor.”

“Of course.” She smiles at me in a way that reminds me she’d do anything for me. And by extension, so would Flynn.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.

“Okay. Text me when you get back.”

“I will.”

As soon as I hang up the phone, I ease off the table.

My stare is locked on the floor, searching for any more giant bugs, while I walk over to my suitcase.

I pull out a pair of pajamas as well as a few more articles of clothing.

But instead of changing, I lay them down on top of the table to make a sort of pallet, then roll up the pajama bottoms to use as a pillow.

At least it isn’t cold in here, though it is somehow muggy.

My neighbors next door are moving around. There’s a lot of thumping and other weird sounds I can’t make out, but no talking. There isn’t even a TV in the room to drown out the noise. I guess I could put in my air pods but then how would I hear the murderer when they arrive?

One night. I’ll be out of here as soon as the sun comes up.

By some miracle, I manage to fall asleep. Or at least doze off. I wake up to more banging around next door. I shift, then wince as the hard table digs into my hip bone. I have no idea what time it is, but I feel like…well, I feel like I slept in the fetal position on top of a piece of wood.

The banging comes again, this time louder and…I freeze, panic washing over me. The noise is at my door. I know because the cheap metal rattles on the hinges.

I stand and step in front of the door and grab the first thing within reach—a lamp. It’s gold-plated with a dingy, what was once maybe white, shade. I’m clutching it in one hand as I stand poised a foot away from the door.

Do I open it? Am I more or less likely to get killed if I ignore whoever it is on the other side?

I’m still thinking when the person on the other side yells, “Red, open up.”

Slowly the voice and the nickname needle their way through the adrenaline and fear haze. I fling open the door and there he is. Nick Galaxy is standing outside my cheap motel room looking like he spent the night sleeping on a tiny wooden table too.

His hair is disheveled, and his beard is longer. He’s in gray athletic pants and a black T-shirt—both slightly rumpled.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

He takes me in, stare dropping to the lamp I’m holding like a weapon, then walks past me into the room, glancing around and shaking his head.

“Hello? I didn’t invite you in.” I set the lamp back on the table.

Turning to face me again, Nick places both hands on his hips. My face heats, though I’m not sure why I’m embarrassed.

“How did you find me?” Surely, he didn’t knock on every single door until “Red” answered. Actually, that sounds exactly like something he would do.

“I asked the guy at the front desk which room you were in.”

“So much for privacy,” I mutter.

Nick grabs my suitcase and rolls it toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“What?” I shake my head. “Go where?”

He gives me a droll look. “Chalet Galaxy.”

I keep staring at him. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on today, but I can’t seem to make sense of his words.

“You can’t stay here. This place is…”

Awful. Disgusting. Straight out of a horror movie.

It finally hits me that he’s attempting to swoop in and rescue me. No, no. He doesn’t get to be the good guy now. Not when he’s the reason I’m here in the first place.

“No, thank you. I’d rather stay here.”

“Really?” He huffs, the sound a gruff low timbre that sends goosebumps up my arms.

“Yes, really. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because…” I throw my hands up in the air. There are so many reasons.

He waits, like he’s expecting a detailed and thought-out list to accompany my outburst.

“You don’t want me around. You made that very clear. And in a few hours, I’ll head out and find somewhere else.”

“A few hours?”

“Yeah, it has to be what two or three in the morning?”

“It’s ten thirty.”

Well, crap.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m good here.”

No sooner than the words leave my mouth, a high-pitched scream pierces through the night.

All pretenses of bravery leave my body as I leap into Nick’s arms. He catches me with one arm as I hide my face in his hard chest. He smells like fabric softener and that same woodsy scent I noticed earlier at the rink.

Some sort of cologne maybe. My brain processes all this at the same time I realize I’ve just thrown myself at him.

“Sorry.” I slide down him until my feet hit the ground and very ungracefully compose myself. I clear my throat.

“Ready to go now?” he asks, a smug, satisfied smile curls his lips.

He pulls his truck into the driveway out front of his house and then walks over to the cabin as I’m getting my suitcase out.

“It’s unlocked and I left the key on the kitchen counter,” he says like my coming back here was a foregone conclusion.

Damn him. And damn the tourists who planned ahead and left no vacancy in town.

“Thank you,” I say, but it doesn’t come out sounding very grateful, so I try again. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll be out first thing in the morning.”

His jaw works back and forth. “You can stay at the cabin this summer as planned.”

Well, that’s surprising.

“I’m coaching at the camp all week, so I don’t have a lot of time, but if you have any more questions, I’ll try to answer them.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the grumpy man I met yesterday who couldn’t wait to get rid of me?”

“Look, it wasn’t personal.”

“It felt personal.”

“I’m sorry for that. I was frustrated with my dad and I took it out on you.”

This has officially been the strangest day of my life.

“Anyway, I can’t have you writing a hockey book where you call the puck a disc.”

My mouth curves up. “Hey, I came a long way in a single day I think.”

He huffs a quiet laugh.

“You’re really okay with this?” The “this” being me staying in a cabin on his property and asking him more questions. Before he apologized, I was prepared to stay here regardless of how he felt about it, but now he’s being nice and my need for retribution is fading.

“Yeah.” He dips his chin in a nod.

“Okay.” A wave of relief floods through me. “That would be great. I will work around your schedule.”

“The easiest thing would probably be to stop by the rink. I have about thirty minutes first thing before the campers arrive and I can get away during breaks or lunch.”

“What time?”

“Eight.”

I know that eight o’clock isn’t that early but one of the perks of working for myself is setting my own schedule. And that schedule usually doesn’t start until after nine. But I will take what I can get.

“Perfect,” I say as I mentally calculate how many hours of sleep I’m going to get tonight.

“You can ride with us if you want.”

“Us?”

“My son, Aidan, and me. He’s part of the camp.”

“Oh.” My mouth drops open with the reply and I tilt my head to the side. Having a kid is a perfectly normal thing for someone his age, but I was not prepared.

The hot hockey player has a son.