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‘I’m sure we can manage between us. After all, that’s what I’m here for. Not to make your life more difficult or to cause trouble. Those days are long gone. What do you say we start over with a clean slate and work together to get this team back on its feet?’ He held out his hand in truce, asking that she forgive whatever sins he might’ve committed in her eyes.
Perhaps she was overstepping the mark here when she wasn’t in any position of authority but she’d thought someone should have the Demons’ best interests at heart when Gray’s judgement seemed clouded by sentiment, or sympathy, or something that had no business in his team decisions. Still, the deed was done now and as a professional she knew better than to let her personal feelings get in the way of doing her job.
‘Fine.’ She hesitantly reached out towards him and shook on the new partnership. Her hand tingled where Hunter’s gripped it so confidently and it wasn’t simply because of the sheer size and power of him, making her fingers seem doll-like compared to his. There was also the moment of fantasy and reality colliding in that touch. Hunter Torrance was actually in her life now.
She inhaled the fresh, citrus scent of his aftershave so deeply she made herself dizzy. An entirely primal reaction that probably would’ve happened whether she’d known who he was or not.
For most single women he’d be the perfect package. If tall, dark, handsome and Canadian did it for you. Which it did. Why else would she be sniffing him as if he were made of chocolate and she wanted a taste? He was wrong for her on so many levels so she’d simply have to resist licking his face.
She’d done her best to fit in here as one of the crew, and making doe eyes at the new recruit wasn’t very professional, it was asking for trouble. And it had definitely found her in the shape of a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound ex-hockey-player.
Okay, so she still had stats memorised, it didn’t mean anything other than she’d once been a girl with way too much time on her hands. An unhappy girl from a suddenly broken home who’d sat in her room like some fairy-tale princess in a tower, waiting for her knight in shining armour to come and rescue her. Except her hockey-playing knight had turned out to be an immature mess who had stolen the chance of that championship title from her beloved Demons and fuelled the theory all men had the ability to inflict mortal wounds to the heart. Not so much galloping off into the sunset as a life sentence distrusting anyone who dared come too close.
She knew her hostility towards him would seem uncalled for, petty even. That didn’t stop her from hoping his past might catch up with him and send him back to the land of snow and ice. He’d shown he wasn’t a man to be relied on when his team needed him. Surely she wouldn’t be the only one to hold a grudge?
In his short time here he’d insulted and fought with many, had damaged the reputation of the club and generally been a pain in the backside to all those around him. Not everyone would be glad to see him return and she was kind of hoping those with a legitimate reason to give him a hard time would, to save her blushes and her position on staff.
Gray, the coward, had apparently left it to her to break the news to the others. It had taken all of her inner strength not to protest, You were on that team he decimated, you should know better than anyone why I think he’s a liability.
She hadn’t because she did her best to keep her passion for the game and her job separate. There was no fair reason he shouldn’t be here if he had all the relevant experience needed for this job.
‘Guys? Can we have a quick word?’
The team trooped off the ice and lined up, waiting for the news. Charlotte swallowed hard. There was definitely no going back now.
‘We just wanted to tell you there’s a new addition to the medical staff. Hunter Torrance will be your new physiotherapist for the rest of the season.’ She didn’t sugar-coat it. They could come to their own conclusions about what this meant. Her only job had been to relay the message and she’d done that as quickly and as bluntly as she could so this was over soon and she could go home to lick her wounds.
‘What?’
‘The Hunter Torrance?’
‘You’re kidding!’
There was a stand-off moment as they stood looking blankly at each other, no one knowing what to do with that information, including Hunter. He was frozen beside her, probably trying to decide on the fight-or-flight method of defence. She knew which one she’d prefer and would happily book him a one-way ticket back to Canada.
The first stick hit the ground with a heavy thud, then another, and another, until he’d received a round of applause hockey-style.
Floret, the captain, stepped forward and shook Hunter’s hand first. ‘Good to have you on board.’
Charlotte figured the move was because he was a fellow countryman but he was soon followed by the rest of the multinational squad.
‘You’re a legend, man.’
‘Dude, I’m sure you have stories to tell.’
Charlotte rolled her eyes as they surrounded their new physio as if he was some sort of rock star. The last thing she needed was the players taking their cue from him that bad behaviour would ultimately be rewarded.
At least Hunter had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed by the positive attention. In her opinion he didn’t deserve it and by the way his cheeks had reddened and he was trying to back away from the crowd she guessed he didn’t think so either. Too bad. They were both stuck in this hell now.
‘They’re all yours,’ she muttered as she walked away unnoticed and left him at the mercy of his adoring fan club. After all, he’d insisted he could handle them and she was done for the afternoon. With the play-off matches looming, which could see them knocked out of the Final Four Weekend in Nottingham, they’d soon find out if the ex-rebel had turned over that new leaf and could justify his new place with the team.
The fan in her wanted him to work some magic and help get them match fit to fight their rivals for that place in the finals but she was a cynic at heart. She’d rather not take the chance of getting her hopes up, only to be disappointed at the last moment.
* * *
Hunter hadn’t come to ruffle any more feathers. He had enough old enemies without making new ones and he certainly hadn’t intended on upsetting the resident doctor. Gray had called in too many favours for him, none of which he deserved, to screw this up now. His old teammate was the one person who knew what he’d been through and had been willing to give him a chance. One he was grabbing with both hands.
Those selfish, heady days were far behind him now. There was only one reason he was back in this County Antrim town and that was for his son.
Hunter Torrance, the responsible father. It was the punchline to a very sick joke. A disgraced hockey player who’d barely been able to take care of himself now found he was the sole parent to an eight-year-old boy who’d just lost his mother in a car crash. He’d only had a few months to get used to the idea of being a father and to grieve for the relationship he could have had with Sara, the ex-girlfriend who’d hid the huge secret from him. Perhaps if he’d been in the right head space back then, able to love her, they could’ve been the family he’d always dreamed of having. Instead, he’d walked away from her, consumed by his own self-pity, and returned to Edmonton.
For as unreliable as the old Hunter had been, the new one was as determined for his son to have the stable upbringing he’d never had. So he’d given up everything he’d worked hard to rebuild back home to do it. Now all he had to do was convince Sara’s parents, Alfie’s grandparents, and everyone else here he was up to the job.
He’d expected an initial backlash over his appointment here from the players and fans but not from the rest of the medical staff. This doctor probably knew nothing of him beyond his reputation yet it seemed enough to warrant her displeasure at the prospect of having to work alongside him. Not that he could blame her. The back-slapping
welcome he’d received had come as a surprise to him too. Tales of his hockey days were probably a novelty to young, up-and-coming players still caught up in the thrill of the game.
For those who’d been personally affected by his behaviour, himself included, he’d prefer to confine his exploits to the past, and he’d told them so. After he’d confirmed or denied several of the urban legends attributed to his name and number.
‘Is it true you spent longer in the penalty box than on the rink for the last month of your career?’
‘Yes.’ He wasn’t proud of it. He hadn’t been trying to play the villain or even defend his own players. The issues from his childhood that he’d tried to suppress had finally come to the surface in an explosion of misdirected rage. Years of therapy had taught him that but it wasn’t information he was willing to share, or a time of his life he was keen to revisit. He was a different man now. Hopefully one more at peace with his past and himself.
‘Did you really punch a linesman and knock out his teeth?’
Hunter sighed. He’d long since apologised to the unfortunate man whose offside decision he’d so violently opposed. ‘One tooth, but I’m afraid to say I did.’
He didn’t want any impressionable young talent to think his past behaviour was an advertisement for anything other than career suicide. ‘It cost me my place on the team, my life here, everything.’
By that stage he’d been completely out of control, drinking too much, lashing out and acting out the role of a child in pain seeking the attention of a family that didn’t want him. Ironically it was that behaviour that had made Sara turn her back on him and deny him a chance of a family of his own.
‘I imagine tales of my debauchery have been greatly exaggerated in my absence. It’s probably best you don’t believe everything you’ve heard about me and form your own opinion. Which mightn’t be any more favourable when you see the new programme I’ve devised for you...’
Whilst a new, intensive regime wouldn’t endear him to his new buddies, it was his way of proving he was serious about his job here. He hadn’t moved halfway across the world to be one of the guys; he was here to make a difference to the team and secure a future for him and Alfie. Gray had clued him in on the challenges he was up against and it was possibly the reason he’d secured the job against the odds—no one else was willing to take on the responsibility of a struggling team at such short notice. Hunter had done his homework and he knew exactly what he was up against but he’d been training for this ever since he’d hit rock bottom and had decided he wanted his life back in whatever capacity was available to him. After years of therapy and retraining he certainly wasn’t going to be put off by the thought of some hard graft.
If only Charlotte had stuck around she would’ve seen the adoration had been short-lived. He’d come prepared with notes and ideas on strengthening and stability exercises for the guys. As a player he knew how much stress the joints and muscles went through. The mechanics of the game and the repetitive actions left the body vulnerable to injury and even a slight strain could easily become a nagging injury, refusing to heal. It was his job to prevent more serious problems further down the line as well as treat them. Regardless of her departure, he’d forged ahead in implementing his new exercise regime, strapped up those who’d needed a bit of extra muscle support and massaged any problem areas in preparation for these next important games.
He’d gone on to treat Colton’s groin strain with a myofascial release of the muscles involved, manipulating the connective tissue with a sustained, gentle pressure to help regain function again.
Murray’s torn meniscus, caused by the trauma of the knee joint being forcefully twisted, thankfully wasn’t severe enough to warrant surgery. Hunter worked to strengthen the muscle surrounding the knee and add to the stability of the joint. The excess swelling and pain were treated with anti-inflammatory medication.
He was sorry Charlotte hadn’t been here to witness his switch back into business mode. His commitment should make her job a little easier too. After all, the medical team was supposed to work together to get the most from the players. It wasn’t an in-house competition to decide who deserved their place here over the other.
* * *
The noise of the crowd and the smell of the crisp, clean ice took Hunter back to his own game nights, and gave him the same adrenaline rush it always had. His first match tonight wasn’t so much about that final score for him but about his personal performance. He wanted to make a good impression and shoot down all the naysayers who still believed he was a liability in any capacity here.
He filed down the players’ tunnel with the rest of the game crew. It was odd being part of the team without being part of the team. He was almost anonymous, standing here in the shadows. The way he preferred it. It was circumstance that had dragged him back into the outer edges of the spotlight.
He ventured out far enough to glance around the arena, trying to pick out those present who’d brought this sudden and dramatic change to his way of life.
‘Are you looking for someone?’ Charlotte appeared beside him.
‘Er...no one in particular.’ The seats he’d arranged for Alfie and his grandparents were still empty but he wasn’t going to share that information with anyone. He’d learned the hard way to keep details of his personal life out of the public domain and he wasn’t about to jeopardise his chances of getting custody of his son for anybody. Even if it might take that look of disgust off her face.
The intense reaction he was able to draw from her with minimal goading fascinated him and he didn’t know why, beyond wondering what he’d done to deserve it. She wasn’t his usual type, at least not the old Hunter who’d enjoyed the company of more...appearance-obsessed ladies who’d revelled in their sexuality. Sara hadn’t been bold or brash but she’d certainly given her feminine attributes a boost with beauty treatments and figure-hugging outfits.
Charlotte was a natural beauty, shining brightly through her attempts to disguise it. Even wearing her game crew red fleece and with her chestnut-brown hair swept to one side in a messy braid, she was as pretty as a picture. He wouldn’t deny it but neither would he act on it even if she didn’t treat him as if he was the devil incarnate. They were co-workers and all women were off limits for the foreseeable future. For once he had to think about someone other than himself and Alfie’s well-being came before hockey or his love life.
‘Well, if you can drag yourself away from whatever has caught your interest, the game is being played in that direction.’ She nodded towards the ice, obviously mistaking his keenness to see his son for something more lascivious.
Given his reputation, it wasn’t a huge stretch of the imagination that she should jump to that conclusion but he did wonder if she would ever give him the benefit of the doubt when it came to questioning his commitment to the job. Especially since he had no intention of correcting her or making her aware of Alfie’s existence. They weren’t close enough for him to share such personal information and as first impressions went he didn’t think they were going to be best buds any time soon.
Still, he did take a certain pleasure in her tut and the roll of her eyes before she stomped away in temper. It was good that she took her work seriously but she really needed to loosen up. He wasn’t the enemy, even if it was fun playing the part now and again.
Hunter’s smile died on his lips as he wrenched his gaze away from his colleague’s denim-clad derriere and back to the crowd. Sara’s parents were in their seats, watching him with disapproval etched across their faces. Whilst he’d been busy with Charlotte he’d missed their arrival and had fallen at the first hurdle by ignoring his son in favour of a woman. It had taken a while simply to get them to tell Alfie he was his father and this was the first time he’d been allowed to see him outside their home.
They didn’t want Alfie’s parentage to be public knowledge any more than he did
until things were settled a bit more. Their caution was understandable when he’d already left their daughter in the lurch and probably ruined her life. Unfortunately he couldn’t do anything to make amends for their loss but he could try to be the parent Alfie needed him to be.
He gave a wave, his eyes now only for his son, and the swell of love that rose in his chest for the excited little boy waving back put everything into perspective once more. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of him as long as his son loved him, trusted him enough to be with him.
The O’Reillys weren’t against the idea of him having custody as long as it was in the best interests of their grandson. All he had to do was make sure he was match fit for the parenting game and leave the old Hunter back on the ice. Along with any wayward thoughts towards his fiery new colleague.
CHAPTER TWO
THE ATMOSPHERE AROUND the arena was electric, everyone buoyed up for the game against the Coleraine Cobras and the chance of getting one step closer to the play-off finals. The Demons were the underdogs at present and to secure their place they needed to come out on top after playing one home and one away match to the Cobras, who were sitting at the top of the league table. It was a tall order but Charlotte kept faith along with all the other fans.
She could hardly believe she was now part of the action instead of a mere spectator sitting in the stands with everyone else. It was a privilege to be on the ground floor of the establishment but she’d also worked damned hard to get here. There was no way she would let everything she’d achieved slip through her fingers for the sake of one man’s ego. Whatever, or whoever, had brought him back to town needed to take a back seat for the team’s sake.
She’d had to swallow her pride and come out to stand alongside Hunter in the tunnel because that’s where she needed to be—on site and focused on the players. It didn’t stop her unobtrusively watching him as the lights dimmed and the crowd was whipped into a frenzy with roving spotlights and blaring sirens hailing the arrival of the home team.