Blades of Glory (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation Book 4) Read online

  Blades of Glory

  The Nashville Assassins Alumni Game

  Toni Aleo

  Copyright © 2020 by Toni Aleo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For Amber:

  This was your idea, babe. Enjoy it! Thank you.

  For Erin:

  Thank you for the Bells and the Flamingo. It really pushed me to write.

  Love you both.

  Also THANK YOU Tessa and Lea! I loved being on ReadMeRomance!!!!!

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  ALLY IS HERE!!!!

  Also by Toni Aleo

  Acknowledgments

  About Toni Aleo

  Introduction

  Before you get started!

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  Chapter One

  Pregame

  Elli

  My life has revolved around the team that makes its home at Luther Arena for as long as I can remember.

  The Nashville Assassins.

  This arena has also become my home away from home. I have gone from being a fan to being an owner. As a fan, my favorite player turned into my boyfriend, then my husband, and finally, the father of our children. As I watch Shea Adler laugh while he stretches, I can’t help but feel those butterflies he’s been giving me since the day I set eyes on him. It was here, in this arena, where I first looked into those blue eyes and knew I was in for one hell of a ride. Shea hasn’t disappointed. Our love story will always be my favorite.

  But somehow, I’ve also been blessed to watch my daughters’ love stories unfold. Just like mine, their love stories played out here, in this arena. Not only did Shea and I fall in love here, but it’s the same arena where all of Shea’s and my children have skated. Where we held birthday parties and other celebrations. We love it here. The running joke is I have bedrooms for my whole family throughout the arena. I don’t, but it has crossed my mind a bit here and there. It would make it easier, for sure.

  My eyes fall on where Shelli is moving her hips as she twirls the mic in her hand. When she got her first lead role on Broadway, I streamed opening night on the jumbotron for everyone. Her face is bright as she laughs with the guys who are all drinking Gatorade out of the Stanley Cup.

  I know the Cup keeper is probably annoyed since Gatorade is spilling everywhere, but I’m sure he’s seen worse. Let’s be honest—there is still time for worse items to be put in that thing. I know for a fact that Aiden Brooks is waiting for his turn during his wedding. I have a feeling the Cup keeper isn’t even ready for that hot mess express.

  When Aiden skates by Shelli, smacking both her butt cheeks and laughing loudly, my heart soars. Those two have been destined since she was eleven. Aiden had no clue back when he was training, making sure his grades were sound and working toward the NHL, but Shelli did, and my strong girl goes for what she wants. I am so proud of her. Shelli is training to take my job one day—not yet; I still have a lot of owning to do—but she impresses me daily. She has some big plans, but Aiden has and always will be number one in that plan.

  Shelli yells something to her sister, and my heart almost can’t take it. My baby stands, holding her little growing belly as she laughs. My baby girl is pregnant and married. It’s almost unbelievable since she said for so long that she never thought of herself as the married with family type, but all it takes is a special man to come along and change that. Boon Hoenes is that man. I’ve always adored Boon. He’s quiet and serious, but Posey brings out the best in him, as he does in her. He leans on the boards, sipping out of the Cup with a huge straw as Posey shakes her head.

  “Did you imagine this when you were a kid? Drinking from the Cup just like that?” she calls to him. She isn’t quiet, which is good since she is coaching for the Assassins now. When she signed her new contract the other day, my proud meter burst. She has always been so play- and goal-driven. I wanted her to be a badass hockey player, but now, watching her coach, I realize that was her true calling.

  Plus, it brought her Boon. With a goofy grin and excitement shining in his eyes, he replies, “Yup. Never thought my pregnant wife would be standing above me, judging me for it, though.”

  She beams, her eyes a bit half lidded as she calls back to him, “I’m not judging. Just jealous I don’t get to do it.”

  She doesn’t need to say more. With cheers from his team, he carries the Cup to her, and she leans over the rail to take a big swig. One would think she was chugging beer the way the guys are cheering her on. The laughter is contagious, and my heart is full. The new Stanley Cup Champions are a group of guys who didn’t have a chance at the beginning of the year. Hell, even at the beginning of the series, everyone wrote them off. They came back from a three-game deficit and showed why the Nashville Assassins are the best damn team in the NHL.

  They showed why I handpicked them and believe in them. These boys are my second group of kids, and they drive me just as wild as my own do.

  “Mom, it’s crap that I don’t get to play!”

  Owen strikes his hips as Evan leans on the rail. “It is.”

  I give them both a flat look. But before I can tell them the truth that will sting and piss them off, my baby boy says, “For one, y’all aren’t even Assassins.” They glare over him. “And for two, you play for the enemy—the same enemy we demolished. So, sorry, you’re lucky you’re even invited to watch.”

  “Shut it, Quinn!”

  “Why are you even here? You don’t like hockey!”

  Quinn grins as he crosses his arms. “I’m here for the girls.” Jesus, these boys are girl-crazy. “Word is, Penelope Odder is here.”

  “And she isn’t looking anywhere near you,” Owen teases. “Hell, wasn’t she obsessed with Evan?”

  I want no part in this conversation. I go to my youngest, who, somehow, has sprouted taller than me, so it’s hard to ruffle his hair, but I manage as I roll my eyes. As I walk away, I grin back at my twins. They may be twins, but they are as different as night and day. Owen could survive, no matter what, but Evan… He’s my sensitive, sweet one. He tries so hard to be like his brother, but Owen is a different breed of man, just like his daddy. And because of that, I worry.

  I don’t know if going to Carolina is a good idea for Evan. I know he is going because he and Owen don’t do anything unless they are together. Honestly, I don’t even know if this is the career he should have pursued. While Posey got my shitty thyroid, Evan got my anxiety and bouts of depression. It hurts my heart to think about, but Shea is convinced he’ll be fine. I pray so hard he’s right. He sometimes is—but mostly, I’m the correct one.

  As I start down the stairs toward the ice where Shelli is waiting for me, I look around the arena that holds not only my blood family today, but my Assassins family. Everyone is here. Shea made a team of alumni to play against Aiden’s team of current players as one of Shelli and Aiden’s prewedding festivities. It’s basically the Cup-winning team, except for a few who have gone home for the summer.

  My money is on the alumni. They’ve all known about this since earlier in the year, so they’ve been d
usting off their skills and getting ready for war. I’m a little overly excited to watch Aiden play against his father, Lucas, and for Lucas to lay his son out. Word on the ice is that Boon thinks he can take out Shea. I’m here for it. I am ready.

  This is going to be a blast.

  When I find Posey with Mary Ann Welch, I squeal with happiness. When Shea said he was able to get Alex to come in for the game, I didn’t believe him. It’s been over a year since I saw them in Canada at the graduation ceremony of their youngest daughter, Lily. They now have an empty nest, which is probably why they’re here. They’re bored out of their minds. Can’t just go from wrangling five girls through sports, school, and life to nothing since both of them are now retired. Thankfully, Shea and I have the Assassins. I hug Mary Ann tightly as she squeezes me back. “It’s so good to see you!”

  “You too,” I gush as we part, and I hold her by her elbows as I laugh. “I was surprised we got you guys here.”

  She scoffs. “Alex can play, and y’all are giving us your house in Clarksville to stay in? Add in the fact that we have nothing to do, and we’re here.”

  I grin. “Glad we can fill y’all’s time. How are the girls? I cannot believe you are a grandma, times four!”

  Her face fills with such happiness. “They are wonderful. Jessie and Leighann are stay-at-home moms, Willa is working at the Canadian embassy in California, dating a Navy special agent, which is really cool. Angel and Lily are in college, both with no clue what to do with their lives. Unlike your Quinn, who has been planning his life since he was a baby, trying to do surgeries on the girls.”

  “Right?” I laugh. “Don’t worry, they’ll figure it out.” We chuckle together as I lean over, wrapping my arm around Posey. She rests her face on mine as I press my hand to her belly. “I’ll need some grandma tips.”

  Mary Ann’s face lights up. “I can’t believe it. I still see her as a baby! Now she’s married and having a baby. All so crazy.”

  “I know. Shelli is next, but if I don’t figure out how to zip-tie Owen’s zipper shut, he might make me a grandma again.”

  It’s a joke but a very real, very scary joke.

  Posey snorts. “I think we’ll need to set him up for Subscribe & Save on Amazon for condoms.”

  I nod, but then I hear my name being called.

  “Mom!”

  I look down at where Shelli is standing, looking at me with wide eyes. “It’s time to start.”

  I glance out at the ice, where all the guys are waiting for me. “Oh! Excuse me. I’ll be back.”

  Mary Ann and Posey laugh as I make my way down the aisle. In high heels and a tight skirt, it’s a challenge, but I’m Elli Adler—I can do this in my sleep. When I reach the bottom step, my husband is there.

  “Mrs. Adler.”

  He takes me by the hips, lifting me and helping me down. I kiss his chin. “Mr. Adler.”

  A kiss on the chin isn’t enough for him, I guess, because he captures my mouth like it’s his first chance to kiss me. He dips me back, and I remember how much I’ve missed kissing him when he is in his gear. I don’t know why; it doesn’t even make sense since his protective gear isn’t very comfortable, but it reminds me of earlier times. When there was nothing to worry about but our love. I hear catcalls, even cheers, but all I feel is him. All of Shea Adler. I pull away, cupping his jaw. “Show-off.”

  He grins. “I have the hottest wife here. Of course I’m showing off.”

  I smack his chest as he rights me before I shake my head, walking onto the carpet leading to where Shelli is standing. I can’t believe that in a month, she’ll be married. It’s crazy how fast time flies by. I grab the mic from her as she leans into my side. Her work with the Assassins foundation has been incredible, but when she offered fans a chance to attend in exchange for a donation, I was in awe of how much money she raised for the cause. The first tier of the arena is dedicated to the family and friends of the players, but the second is for the fans, and it’s packed to the brim.

  Everyone wants to see the show.

  “Is this thing on?” I ask, and I hear myself echo through the arena. “It is! Hello, and welcome to the unofficial Nashville Assassins alumni game. Why is it unofficial, you may ask? Well, unlike official alumni games, our alumni won’t be playing against one another but against our reigning Stanley Cup Champions!”

  The crowd rumbles with excitement as the boys all wave from the bench, smiling for the crowd and their families. “Some of you know this and some of you may not, but my eldest daughter, Shelli, is marrying Aiden Brooks,” I say. And as always, cheers follow Aiden’s name. “They wanted to do something fun to celebrate their upcoming nuptials. I’m not sure who suggested it first, but after a night of intense wedding planning—and most of a case of beer on Shea’s and Aiden’s parts—they thought, what better way to celebrate than a game between the old and the new.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Old is uncalled-for!” Shea yells at me.

  “Yeah. Seasoned is better,” Lucas Brooks offers, and I snort.

  “We aren’t chicken,” Tate Odder reminds them. “Why can’t it just be called ‘legends against current champs’?”

  Aiden laughs. “Hold on there, Uncle Tate. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Legends?”

  Tate blinks. “Yes, legends. A word you’ll hopefully be able to achieve—if I don’t kill you first.”

  Oh, the trash talk.

  “Let’s see if you can catch, eh, Uncle?”

  I look between nephew and uncle before bringing the mic back to my lips. “I want to say they’ll all skate off the ice in one piece, but… Our seasoned legends are ready to show the current champs what they are made of, and I know I am ready for it. Are you?”

  More cheers and yelling.

  “That’s right! So, let’s go! Shelli will drop the same commemorative puck that is for sale up at the foundation booth between Sections 201 and 202. They are all randomly signed by these great players on the ice, and we have a ton. Each player signed one hundred of them each. Thank you, boys! And thank you so much for coming! Let’s go Assassins!”

  The chant starts as everyone lines up for the ceremonial puck drop. Shelli kisses her daddy on the cheek and then her fiancé on the lips before she gets in place for the picture. The current Assassins are wearing their black home jerseys with the amazing purple and silver trim. Our alumni are wearing the jerseys from the year Shea and I met. It’s purple with black trim, and the Assassin on the front has the Nashville skyline rising out of his shoulders. In my opinion, it was the best jersey ever. Which is why I’m wearing my Shea Adler one.

  Shelli drops the puck for the photo op, and Aiden seems to have it, but then Shea lifts his stick, stealing it away. He reaches for it, tossing it up so Shelli can catch it. “When we win, you will mow my yard for a year.”

  Aiden snorts. “You mean, when we win, you’ll let us use the plane for the honeymoon. You’re so kind. Best father-in-law in the world.”

  Shea glares. “You’re going down, Brooks.”

  “Bring it, Adler.”

  Shelli looks between her future husband and her father with such worry in her blue eyes.

  Me? I’m grinning from ear-to-ear.

  This is going to be so much fun.

  I’m just hoping my husband and future son-in-law are able to walk down the aisle in a month.

  Chapter Two

  First Period

  Shea

  I lean on the boards where my forever brothers sit before me. Lucas is leaning against the boards beside me, and Alex is on the other side of him. Damn if it isn’t awesome to have him here. Tate sits in all his gear, and fuck, it’s such a welcome sight. Jensen Monroe is in the goal, stretching as we talk. Even now, he still has to get his mental game going. Benji Paxton is standing beside me where Jakob Titov usually would stand, but with his injuries, he’s unable to play. Instead, he’s coaching us. Our bench is full of the greats—Erik Titov, Phillip Anderson, Karson King, Vaughn Johansson, and to my surpris
e, Jordie Thomas. We weren’t sure if he’d be able to come since his wife Kacey is days from delivering their second baby boy.

  These men are my brothers. Our lives are so intertwined and full of such great blessings. Not only did we play together and win Cups together, we’ve been raising our kids together. I may have grown up with only my twin sister, Grace, but I have over twenty men I now consider my brothers. Don’t get me wrong. I love my sister. Love her. She’s my twin, and when she is happy, I’m happy. When she’s sad, I am too, but there is something about a brotherhood that I don’t think I could live without. Especially these guys.

  “Here is the deal, boys. We have to beat that kid’s ass.”

  Lucas, that kid’s dad, nods eagerly. “He’s cocky as fuck.”

  “He is. All bets are off. I’m not taking it easy once I hit that ice,” Tate promises, and I smack my glove to his pad.

  “That’s right!” I look at everyone, nodding my head. “We are fighting for our pride. These whippersnappers think—”

  “Saying whippersnappers really doesn’t support our argument that we aren’t old,” Benji says, and my eyes meet his.

  “You’re not wrong. So, those assholes—”

  Jordie claps obnoxiously. “Perfect, Cap.”

  I grin as I nod. “Those assholes think this is an easy win, that we’re old and unable to skate. What they don’t know is we’re ready to kick some ass.”

  “Totally getting some Braveheart vibes right now,” Vaughn jokes, and Benji’s dorky ears perk.