10
TAYLOR
“So how’s married life,Savage? You got any pearls of wisdom for us bachelors?” Trick asked as we warmed up on the ice.
He passed me the puck, a smirk curling up his lips.
“Better than spending my nights trolling bars. I don’t miss that. I go home to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Can’t complain, now, can I?”
I took my shot, sneaking the puck past him and straight to Byrne.
“And the boss really doesn’t have any issues with you fucking his sister-in-law?”
Trick twisted away from where Byrne had him blocked and snagged the puck as the big Brit cursed under his breath.
“That’s not really his business, is it? I can spend my time with whoever I want. Maverick Wilde doesn’t scare me. He barely knows anything about hockey and spends most of his time with his hands—”
The ice was deathly quiet as my words died on my tongue because standing there, watching me with an amused smirk on his lips, was the man himself. He wore a dark cowboy hat, a pair of jeans, and I’m sure if I could see past the boards, a pair of boots. He didn’t look one bit like a team owner should. This guy didn’t fit in, and the way he ran our team only drove that idea home.
“Go on, Savage. Keep goin’. Don’t hold back. Where do I keep my hands?”
Byrne snorted, and I shot him a look that said he’d be paying for that later.
“Very wisely on your money, Mr. Wilde.”
He jutted his chin toward the team. “Good answer. Keep practicing. I’m not here, got it?”
Trick took that as his opportunity to get one over, and he shot the puck past me. It made it into the goal before Petrov could even blink.
“Gotta think fast, Savage.”
If I didn’t like Trick so much, I’d shove him into the boards for that. Actually, maybe I would do it anyway. But as I geared up to go after him, Maverick spoke again.
“We’re gonna need a sit down after practice is over. I’ll be waiting for you in my office.”
I couldn’t deny the way those words made my gut churn. I wasn’t interested in dealing with a pushy team owner or a protective older brother type, but I had a feeling I’d be getting both.
“Savage is in trouble,”Trick taunted.
“And Trick is about to have his ass handed to him,” I muttered.
I pummeled him when all was said and done. My team won the scrimmage, and he had to lick his wounds in front of everyone. It was bloody fantastic. But now I had to face the music. Maverick was waiting on me, and I knew fuck all of what he was going to say.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I tucked my phone into my pocket and headed to the owner’s office. The previous Mr. Wilde hadn’t been involved at all. He’d been a silent partner, leaving the management of the team to the manager. I think I liked that better.
With a sharp knock on the door, I cleared my throat and waited to hear him invite me inside. It took all of two seconds for him to call out, “Come on in, Taylor.”
Much to my surprise, I didn’t find the stern, protective man I was expecting. Maverick Wilde sat behind his desk, boots resting on the polished wood with a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.
“Have a seat. I poured you one already.”
“What’s this all about?”
Why did I feel like I was in danger of being capped by the cowboy Mafia? Was there a cowboy Mafia? Probably. If there was, he was in it.
“I just want to talk.”
Yep, cowboy Mafia. Fuck.