Dangle the ring, p.1
Dangle the Ring, page 1
Dangle the Ring
Copyright © 2022 by Elizabeth Lynx
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
Dangle the Ring
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1. Jackson
2. Harper
3. Jackson
4. Harper
5. Jackson
6. Harper
7. Jackson
8. Harper
9. Jackson
10. Harper
11. Jackson
12. Harper
13. Jackson
14. Harper
15. Jackson
16. Harper
17. Jackson
18. Harper
19. Jackson
20. Harper
21. Jackson
22. Harper
23. Jackson
24. Harper
25. Jackson
Blue Ridge Mountain Hockey Series Order
Also By Elizabeth Lynx
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Dangle the Ring
A hot, new romance by USA Today bestselling author Elizabeth Lynx about a fake engagement that turned into something not so fake. What happens when a hockey player and a wedding planner kiss pretending to be in love and that kiss turns into something neither expected?
I thought it was a good idea to pretend to be engaged to my sister’s best friend.
Before you judge, hear me out. I needed the money. Okay, that sounded really bad, but Harper needed something too, a job.
We were both benefiting from the fake engagement. The only problem was as we tried to keep it a secret from our friends and family, the more word got out.
That’s the problem with being a famous hockey player and living in a small town. Word spreads fast. I guess I didn’t think that one through.
I didn’t think a lot of things through. But I was desperate for the money I could get by pretending to be Harper’s fiancé. My ex-wife took everything I had and trying to raise my son in a tiny one-bedroom apartment wasn’t easy.
I may not be proud of the lie I told, but I’d do anything for my little boy. Even pretend to not be in love with my fake-fiancé.
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Chapter one
Jackson
My heart pounded in my chest. I blinked at the text on my phone. "Fuck, this isn't good."
There's a slap on my back, and I glance up to discover Aspen with his big, toothy grin standing over me. "Nice practice today."
I nodded and turned my attention back to my phone. I had already changed out of my hockey gear, back into jeans and a T-shirt, but I couldn't move.
Rubbing my face, I wished this day would end. That I'd wake up in my small bed with my young boy sleeping on his little toddler bed next to mine, and this nightmare would be over.
Did I hate that my kid and I shared a tiny one-bedroom apartment? Of course I did. On a professional hockey player's salary, I should have made enough for at least a two-bedroom apartment. And here in the mountain town of Castle Ridge, housing was cheap. I should have been able to raise Lucas in a big house with a large yard to play in.
Thanks to my ex-wife—who could win an Oscar based on the performance she gave the judge during our divorce proceedings—I could barely pay rent on the place I had now.
The bench creaked, and I glanced over. Aspen had sat down next to me. His locker was around the corner, so the only reason he was here was because he wanted to talk.
We shot the shit sometimes, which I did with most of the guys on the Blue Ridge Mountain Devils—everyone except for Cillian.
Because Cillian was an asshole.
"What's up, Aspen?" I slid my phone into my back pocket and stood.
"I just wanted to thank you for taking us all out on Friday. It was a blast."
Ugh, I had forgotten about the strip club. In my desperate attempt to win the guys over for a chance at team captain, I stupidly said I'd pay for drinks at the club.
Most of that night was a blur. I remember walking into the club, having two drinks, and then nothing after that. There was one hazy memory later in the evening, but it only involved me grabbing at a coatrack. I didn't even realize the Mountain Men's Club had a coatrack.
"Great. Glad you liked it." I reached into my locker to grab my coat, ready to leave.
Maybe if I moved quick enough, I could catch the landlord before he left his office over on Fitzlee Street. A desperate attempt to beg him to lower the rent. I knew no landlord in all of history had ever done that, but maybe he could be the first? I frowned at my sad situation.
I felt another slap on my back. Turning, I glanced up to find Teddy smiling. "Jackson, Friday night was off the charts. And you were hilarious."
"I was?"
A few of the guys laughed once they heard Teddy mention the club.
"We all were drinking, but I didn’t know you had that sort of tolerance. I suspected you'd be fun to be around while throwing them back, but not meme-level fun."
Meme-level? What was that?
Aspen leaned in. "I suspected Cillian would be an angry drunk—not that I ever witnessed it because it was before my time. But with you, Jackson, I knew you'd be hi-lar-i-ous."
My eyes shifted to Cillian, who was changing at his locker directly opposite mine. He didn't drink anymore, and I knew why. It wasn't because he became an angry drunk or even a silly drunk; no, that guy turned into a player. The kind who hit on any woman with two feet and a pair of boobs.
One time, that woman was my sister.
"Glad I could be amusing. I have to go. There's an issue with my rent—" My words died on my lips as someone shoved a phone in front of my face. On it was a meme of me with a coatrack.
Was that the memory I had? Someone had to have taken a picture of me with it, and I only remember the photo.
The way the picture was taken, it appeared I was embracing the coatrack. And whoever wrote the meme agreed.
Find me someone who looks at me the way Jackson Haynes looks at this coatrack.
I grabbed the phone and held it up. "Ha ha, you guys. Who made this?"
A lot of guys shrugged and mumbled that they didn't know.
"No, seriously, you guys, somebody took this picture. Who was it?"
Nobody was answering. A few of them turned and went back to what they were doing.
"You're telling me some random person made this meme?" I asked Aspen.
He snatched the phone from my grip. "Dude, it's so much more than that. There was a video of you trying to make out with the coatrack." He tapped his screen and then held it up. "Here, look."
It's me in the video, trying my best to maintain my balance. I almost fell but reached out and grabbed the coatrack. Clearly, I was wasted.
In the video, I suddenly noticed what I was holding on to, and that was when the flirtation began. I guess drunken me thought the rack was a woman because I was going for it.
I placed my hand over my mouth in horror as I watched drunk me tongue the brass coatrack. Just the thought of how many people had touched it caused my stomach to churn.
"The ladies must love you," Teddy said, and I glared at him. "I mean, actual women... not coatracks."
"Who would film this?" I reached out to tap at the video, despite a few protests.
"What are you doing?" Aspen asked.
"Trying to find out who filmed it. Who uploaded the video?"
Aspen scrolled down, and that was when my eyes widened. "The video has seventy thousand views? Oh my God."
My make-out session with a coatrack had gone viral.
"It's not just the memes," I mumbled to myself.
"You know what they say...? Any press is good press."
"This isn't press, Aspen. This is somebody showing the world my stupid drunken behavior to embarrass me."
I smiled stiffly as my heart beat wildly in my chest. The guys loved it. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe I could capitalize on going viral. Sell T-shirts or something.
I chuckled to myself, hating the desperation I had sunk to in order to make some extra cash. Anything to fight my ex-wife.
That was when I noticed the guys had quieted down. I looked up and saw Cillian standing next to me with his usual scowl on his face.
"Cillian. What's up?"
His mouth curled, and it was almost worse than when he frowned. "What's up? I'll tell you what's up. I heard about the strip club."
I swallowed. Shit. Was there more than the video? Don't tell me someone filmed me talking shit about Cillian. I may have hated the guy, but I'd never make up shit about him. We were a team.
"What did you hear?" I glanced around at the players, wondering if any of them had done this.
"I heard you invited the team out to the strip club. That's funny," he chuckled, "because last I checked, I was part of the team too. I don't remember being invited out."
He knew my feelings about him. "Why would I invite you?"
The asshole shoved his finger into my chest, and I slapped it away. I knew I shouldn't say anything, but Cillian was getting on my last nerve.
I puffed out my chest, stepping toward him. "From what I heard, you were busy Friday night."
He tried to make up a pathetic excuse as to why he took my sister out on a dinner date. I couldn't take it. I swore I would say nothing for the good of the team, but this guy had taken advantage of my sister every chance he got and lied to me about it.
"Really, Cillian? Was that all that happened? How about two years ago at a little party? Were you just thanking my sister then too when you groped her?" I narrowed my eyes, daring him to deny it.
"I've never groped your sister."
What a liar. More players came closer to listen to the team asshole lie to my face.
"Groped, kissed, same difference. That's my sister. You stay away from her."
"No."
My blood ran cold.
"No?" I took another step until my chest bumped his. "That's my sister you're talking about."
"She's an adult, Jackson. If she doesn't want to be around me, then she doesn't have to be around me. But if she does..."
My nostrils flared. "So you won’t stay away from my sister? Then I guess I'm going to have to make you stay away from her."
At that moment, all the hurt and pain of the last few years merged, and I lost it. I pulled my arm back, making a fist, and seconds later, I had punched Cillian in the jaw.
An electric bolt of pain exploded in my hand, and it hurt like hell. I wanted to wince and turn away, to see if I broke any bones, but Cillian wouldn't let me.
He pushed and slammed my head against the wall. I had so much adrenaline running through me that I barely felt it. I tried to retaliate, but my teammate Teddy pulled Cillian off me.
Attempting to lunge forward, I found myself pinned back by my other teammates, Emmanuel and Aspen. Coach appeared and did his best to calm us down. But I couldn't let Cillian go empty-handed. I had one more taunt up my sleeve.
"No one likes you, Cillian. Face it. It will be a breeze winning the captain title."
That pissed him off. He twisted and turned in Teddy and Coach's arms.
There was no way he'd get away from Teddy. The guy was a giant and stronger than all of us combined.
Just when I thought it was over, and Coach was going to tell us to calm down, Cillian landed a blow I never saw coming.
"Hey, Jackson," he said with an evil grin. “I met your ex the other day. She told me how she wasted her time with you and wanted all this.” He tried to move his hands but couldn’t in Teddy’s hold, so he just shook his hips like a moron.
It didn't matter how stupid he looked; he hit his target with perfect accuracy. My heart.
He couldn't have known my ex just texted me she was engaged. Which stung because, deep down, as much of a bitch as she was to me, I always hoped we'd get back together, at least for our son, Lucas.
But the worst part of the text was she was going to sue for legal custody of Lucas—the one person in my life I would do anything for. The one person who gave me a reason to rise in the morning and work until I ached on the ice each day.
She had taken everything away from me—my house, my cars. She even took my father's wedding band, which he wore on a chain around his neck once my mom left him right after my sister, Daisy, was born.
The only thing she didn't get was my mom's engagement ring. And that was only because I hid it from her.
Dad always hoped Mom would come back, as did I, but she didn't even show at his funeral when he died twelve years ago.
Now my ex-wife wanted to take away my son—the last piece of my heart—and deep down, I knew she'd win. She always had, and since she had all the money, I knew she always would.
If there was one thing I learned from my life, it was to never get married. I made that mistake once, but I’d never make it again.
"You fucking asshole," I screamed, and with all my strength, I tried to get out of my teammate's grasp.
Coach yelled for Teddy to take Cillian away, but the damage had been done. The only reason I considered trying for team captain was because I needed the money. But if I didn't get it, I could find money another way.
Cillian changed all that. Now the only reason I wanted to be captain was to piss off the biggest asshole to step on the ice, Cillian Walsh.
Chapter two
Harper
"What's got you in a good mood?" Lydia's golden eyes sparkled, practically begging for gossip.
Which, to be fair, I usually had. I was a wedding planner, after all. I knew the ins and outs of the couples of Castle Ridge.
Not that the small mountain town in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia was teaming with celebrity couples. But ever since The Blue Spot resort opened a few years ago, there had been some famous people causing problems, which garnered some attention.
"Just some information about a very wealthy heiress who's thinking about having her wedding here."
Lydia stopped walking and grabbed my arm. The coffee sloshed in my grip, causing some to spill over onto my fingers.
"What? Who? I feel that, as your roommate, you must tell me all about it."
I rolled my eyes. "I love you, Lydia, but you know this could help my career. If I land her account and become her wedding planner, then I could make partner by next year. My lips must remain tight, at least for now."
I nibbled on my lower lip at the thought, then frowned. I rubbed my teeth with my finger, hoping I hadn't smeared my red lipstick all over them.
Lydia held up her hands. "You look gorgeous, as always. But the thing is, I need this. I need something, anything, to distract me from my life, please?"
Lydia needed some fun right now since her grandma went into the hospital. I had felt bad for her ever since her best friend, Daisy, was now working long hours on a farm and busy getting it on with her hot hockey-playing boyfriend. Daisy didn't have a lot of time for her bestie, so I had taken Lydia out any chance I could, but sometimes I was busy with work too.
Nothing took priority over my job. I was twenty-six, the prime time for a woman to get ahead in her career. My dream of one day becoming the premier wedding planner of the region had to start somewhere. There would be time later for friends, relationships with men, and, maybe one day, a baby.
We continued walking.
"I promise to tell you once I mention it to my boss. If she finds out I let it slip to anyone about who was thinking of marrying in Castle Ridge, she'll fire me."
"I get it. I guess being my own boss with the landscaping business, I forget what it's like having to answer to higher-ups."
My lips thinned. I knew she didn't mean to gush about how she had her own business, but I was a little jealous that Lydia was her own boss. It wasn't much, and she poured just about every penny she made right back into her business—either paying people for their work or buying supplies.
But just the idea that she decided and answered to no one... Ugh, I longed for that.
"Here I am. Thanks for walking me to work, Lydia." I stopped outside the glass door that led to Castle Ridge Weddings and Events.
"It's such a nice May day, I thought, why not? Besides, I want to go to the hospital to check in on Grandma." The Castle Ridge hospital was a few blocks away.
"Let me know how she's doing." I reached out, pulling her into a hug.
After a moment, she stepped back with tears in her eyes. I hated that my friend's beloved grandmother was hurting. I made a note to take her out to dinner soon, hoping to give her a minor distraction from what was going on.
"I'll see you tonight." I waved as she walked off.
I thought about running after her. I thought about saying, screw work, it can wait. But then I remembered the last time I did something like that.
Watching the tears on my mother's face as the landlord kicked us out of our tiny one-bedroom apartment was enough to sear into my brain that a paycheck meant security. I learned never to walk away from a paycheck.
Sighing, I turned and headed into the two-story, red-bricked office building on Fitzlee Street. The main level was where we met with clients, while the upper floor held our desks and my boss's office.
I waved at Holly, our receptionist, as I headed toward the back stairs. The main floor was typical of any wedding planning location—white walls with pretty pink and gold décor.
The upstairs was dramatically different, though. The ceiling was exposed wood with steel beams. The floor was concrete, and the desks were made of light wood and black metal.
