She peered up. The three men were still staring at her. “Um, hi?”
“You made him soft,” the biggest one said.
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head. “He never used to smile on the ice, he was always mean, and now he’s smiling.”
“I’m sure he’s only smiling because he enjoys the game.”
“Or enjoying the action later, huh?”
She blinked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but her tongue had knots in it and she didn’t know what to say, so she looked at her phone as the screen blurred.
“Whoa, what did we miss?” Poppy said, with a scowl at the men that suggested she’d missed nothing.
“Were those jokers harassing you?” Molly asked. “I can ask security to kick them out,” she said, in a louder voice that drew the men’s scowls but made them shut up and look away.
She exhaled, accepting the cup of popcorn that Poppy handed to her, despite not requesting anything. Surely doing something would be better than thinking over what those men had just said.
“Are you okay?” Poppy asked quietly.
“Yep. I just don’t want Luc copping any criticism because they think I’m to blame.”
“Well, you can’t help what other people say. That’s on them. But it’s on you to not let it sink into your heart, so don’t let it, okay?”
She nodded. Easier said than done.
Molly pointed to the big screen that Bailey had learned was called a jumbotron. “Hey, it looks like they’re gonna be miking Luc up for this next period.”
“Really?”
Molly slurped her Coke. “It’s always kind of fun to hear how they talk to each other on the ice, and Luc’s a safe one, as he doesn’t say those words that scare little kids or grandmothers.”
Or girlfriends.
“And you’ll probably see that the opposition won’t be mouthing off as much now either.”
Poppy nodded. “Yeah. They don’t want to have their words recorded.”
Bailey hoped so, for Luc’s sake. Was it silly for her to be worried about him? But the men’s comments before had prickled awareness that while Luc might’ve got the biggest cheer when he was introduced on the ice tonight, others had a different opinion.
She watched more intently this time, noting when Luc won his face-offs, he yelled, “Hey, hey!” for the puck to be sent his way. His “Good try” when Travis missed, his encouragement to his teammates, all wrapped around her heart.
A good man. One whose actions she hoped would prove to her father he was worthy of her. That there was nothing to worry about. That her father had no need to fear a repeat of Jed and Chrissy’s situation, that his tattoos didn’t automatically equate with a temper or a violent streak. And she prayed he wouldn’t get into a fight.
As they moved back through the tunnel to the ice for the third period, Luc did his best to stay focused on what they had to do. They were tied 2-2, so now it was all about getting pucks on the net, which was exactly what he would aim to do. Focus on that. Lead his men. Not think about the pretty woman he loved who was wearing the jersey he’d got her with his number on it. He would do anything he could to try and make her proud, but he needed to stay in the game and help his team win.
He skated to the center dot and bent, ready for the puck drop, anticipation making him twitchy. He won it from Johansen, sending the puck to Travis. It might only be the first game in the preseason, but already there was chemistry between them. These first few games were about getting regular-season ready after a long summer off, and already he could feel his legs tiring. Coach Frantzen was tweaking the lines and mixing combinations, seeking those which would prove more offensive and score the goals that would help Winnipeg get off to a good start in the regular season. Score enough goals early on in the regular season, and later, when everyone’s batteries were running low, there wouldn’t be such a need to grind out enough wins to get to the playoffs. That was the coaching staff’s strategy, and it made sense to Luc, so he’d do all he could to support Coach Frantzen’s vision.
Johansen clipped Luc with his shoulder as he skated past, but the refs didn’t notice, so he skated on.
He’d expected the jibes to resume after he was de-microphoned for this period, when people couldn’t hear what was being said. Johansen was dirty, and it seemed grossly unfair to much of the hockey world that a known agitator who loved to pick a fight had a Cup ring while Luc and others didn’t. Still, he’d be doing all he could to rectify that this year.
Knowing that Vancouver had a need to prove their win last year wasn’t a fluke, it wasn’t surprising that they were coming hard out of the gate. Zac Parotti skated close, and Luc weaved away, puck on his stick as he shot at Vancouver’s goalie. The puck bounced off the pipes with a loud ping.
“Too bad,” Chris smirked.
Luc pointed at him. “So sad.” Then he skated off with a smile. He probably should rein those in. People weren’t used to seeing him smile on the ice. He’d always been a little more intense than some, and he didn’t want to give the opposition any more excuse to call him weak.
Judging from the words being tossed around tonight, plenty of them had opinions about his dancing, most of them bad, although a few, like Zac Parotti, understood he’d done it for his mom.
He skated back to the dot and took the face-off, this time losing as Johansen passed to Parotti and down to the blue line. Luc skated fast and stole the puck and changed direction, when Johansen appeared on his left. Luc swerved, and slammed him into the side with a nice hip-check, which sent Johansen to the ice and drew thunderous cheers from the crowd. Yeah, that was more like it. Tough Luc was back. There’d be no more questions over his masculinity after—
Johansen’s stick slapped his midsection, and Luc automatically grabbed it as Logan started talking, spewing words about Luc, about Bailey, about Luc’s mom.
He ignored it, ignored it, but the guy kept jawing, about Bailey, about her dance costumes, his every word and smirk like a flame to an oilcan. Luc’s temper rose, but he wouldn’t bite. He wouldn’t bite.
Johansen’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I’d tap that too.”
Luc wheeled to face him, dropped his stick, and threw off the gloves, and swung a fist. His knuckles collected the dude on his jaw and he fell down. Luc fell on top of him, pounding him, pounding him, as Johansen tried to hit back. Then the zebras skated in and tried to separate them, all while Johansen kept spewing his garbage.
A few moments later Luc skated to the penalty box, sat, and removed his helmet, and sucked down a drink. A five-minute minor on his first game as captain. Awesome. Would everyone know he was easy to target, that they only need to mention Bailey and he’d explode? And here she was watching, at her first-ever game. He leaned forward, scrubbing his face. What would she think of him?
Another thought hit him, harder than Logan’s punch. What would her father think of him now?
CHAPTER 24
