Her husband grunted. “He kept saying the Blue Shirts sucked.” He sounded more insulted by JB dissing his team than hitting on his woman.
“Don’t you love crosstown rivalry?” Jake ignored the woman and focused on her husband, keeping his tone casual. “It’s what makes hockey a great sport—loyal supporters like...” He waited for the guy to give his name.
“Frank.”
“Bet Frank’s been a fan since way back when, huh?”
“Damn straight, Bad Boy. Haven’t missed a game in twenty years. I was at the Garden when we raised the Cup in ’94.” The barrel chest puffed up with pride, like he’d been on the ice himself.
“See, Jean-Baptiste, this is the type of loyal fan hockey needs to nurture.” Mad Dog’s hand clamped over JB’s mouth. “I’m sure, as lovers of the great game, we can make this go away. Right, Frank?”
The guy was caught. If he disagreed, he’d look stupid. “Out of respect for you, Bad Boy, I’ll make a deal. But you gotta teach the kid manners.”
“Don’t worry, we will.” Jake heard JB struggling. “We feel bad about your good lady, so we’ll treat you both to dinner.” He pulled out a card. “What’s your favorite restaurant, ma’am?” At her response, he scribbled on the back, then handed her the card. “You give this to the owner and tell him the tab’s on me.”
The blonde was instantly soothed. “Now, hon, isn’t that nice?”
“Frank, how about on-the-glass seats for the next Rangers game here?”
The man agreed readily.
Now the hard part. Even though it would cost him personally, Jake had to keep Larocque’s name out of this. The kid should suffer the consequences of his mistake, but Jake had to consider the good of the team. Adam’s face flashed through his mind, strengthening his resolve.
“I need a favor, Frank.” Jake smiled. “If anyone asks about tonight, the only name you mention is mine.”
“But...”
“We’re both older guys, Frank. We know about youthful mistakes.” He sent him a knowing look. “We don’t want JB to swing for a stupid, drunken move, do we?”
Reluctantly, Frank agreed, in return for pictures taken with Jake. He also promised not to post anything to the internet until after the game tomorrow night.
“What about my damages?” the manager whined.
Tru stepped in, wallet ready.
By the time Mad Dog and Blake had bundled JB into the back of a cab, it was almost 1:00 a.m. They threatened Larocque with duct tape if he spoke before they got back to the hotel.
Once there, they hurried up to Jake’s room.
Sobered up with strong coffee, JB apologized. “I’ve been a total jerk. I’d have been sent back to the minors forever if I’d ended up in jail.”
“Worse, you’d have been branded trouble.” Jake didn’t pull his punches. The kid had to learn his lesson fast. “One more misstep and you’d have been cut loose. We’re not saying you can’t have fun, but this kind of crap ends careers.”
“And mine has barely started.” Jean-Baptiste hung his head. “I know I’ve made things bad for Mad Dog and Blake when all you guys were doing was trying to keep me out of trouble. I’ll shoulder the blame with Max for you missing curfew.”
Looked like there was a good streak beneath the arrogance.
“We won’t say a word, for their sakes,” Tru said solemnly. “For the team’s sake. It’s just between us, on one condition.”
Relief filled JB’s dark eyes. “Name it.”
Jake inhaled deeply. This was a big commitment. The best plan, but a huge responsibility. Did he have what it took?
If he could prevent Jean-Baptiste from making the same mistakes as he had, the angst would be worth it. His resolve hardened. “For the rest of the season, you’re living with me.”
* * *
CHILDREN PLAYED HOCKEY like seagulls diving for food.
Maggie bit back a smile as the knot of masked and padded skaters swarmed around the puck. She shifted her bum on the cold bench and let her mind wander to tomorrow night.
The twenty-first.
As Tracy was on a date, Maggie had arranged for Emily to stay the night at Amy’s, so there’d be no need to rush her time with Jake.
Somehow she didn’t think he’d want to rush. Her smile broke free.
The coach blew his whistle for the end of the session, interrupting her heated thoughts.
She rose and headed to the gate to wait for Emily to come off the ice.
“Bad Boy is up to his old tricks.”
Maggie started at the comment from the clique of too-rich, too-skinny women who sat near the glass. Her stomach roiled.