Playing It Cool: The York Bombers, #8

By Lisa B. Kamps

Sometimes figuring out what you want in life is only half the battle...

Bryan Torresi has a reputation for playing it cool, for being hard-nosed and unforgiving. As head coach of the York Bombers, he has to be. The men look to him for advice and guidance and when it comes to playing hockey, he's one of the best. Off the ice is another story. Life has slipped him by and he wonders what he's missed by being so focused on the sport he loves—and then he meets Pamela Howard.

A successful small business owner, Pamela is focused on one thing: security. But achieving the security she's always craved has come at the cost of a personal life. She's not afraid of being alone but she's tired of being lonely—and only now realizes that there's a difference between the two. Meeting the outwardly cool hockey coach makes her wonder if there's still a chance for her to succeed in love.

Can two independent people who are used to living life on their own terms learn to compromise for the sake of love? It's a game of give-and-take with stakes higher than either one imagined—but only if they're willing to play instead of walking away.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BimHaven Press
• Release date: May 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393110811

Lisa B. Kamps

Lisa B. Kamps had a zest for life at an early age. As a young child she wanted to do many things, from being an astronaut to becoming a marine biologist. A strong calling came from somewhere in between, and instead she chose to become a firefighter. She successfully served in a job dominated by men, becoming highly respected in her field. After a rewarding career with the Baltimore County Fire Department, she retired and found new happiness in retail management. Throughout her entire life, Lisa has had the ability to express herself through writing. She has never looked back, and has never regretted any of the detours that life may have thrown at her, because she knows that she is able to become anything she wants through the power of her writing. Lisa lives in Maryland, where her two energetic sons constantly keep her on her toes.

Book preview

PLAYING IT COOL

A York Bombers Hockey Romance

Book 7

––––––––

Lisa B. Kamps

PLAYING IT COOL

Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

The York Bombers™ is a fictional semi-professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.

Photographer: CJC Photography

http://www.cjc-photography.com

Cover Model: Tom Ernsting

Artwork and Cover Design by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art

http://www.simplydefinedart.com/

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Other titles by this author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

RULE BREAKER preview

About the Author

Other titles by this author

Other titles by this author:

COVER SIX SECURITY

Covered By A Kiss, A CSS Novella, Book 0

The Protector: MAC, Book 1

The Guardian: DARYL, Book 2

The Defender: RYDER, Book 3

The Warrior: DERRICK, Book 4

The Rescuer: WOLF, Book 5

The Savior: COLTER, Book 6

The Hero: ROMAN, Book 7

THE NEW ORLEANS BOURDONS

Rule Breaker, Book 1

Troublemaker, Book 2

Heartbreaker, Book 3

Risk Taker, Book 4

THE YORK BOMBERS

Playing The Game, Book 1

Playing To Win, Book 2

Playing For Keeps, Book 3

Playing It Up, Book 4

Playing It Safe, Book 5

The York Bombers Boxed Set 1

Books 1-3

Playing For Love, Book 6

Playing His Part, Book 7

Playing It Cool, Book 8

THE BALTIMORE BANNERS

Crossing the Line, Book 1

Game Over, Book 2

Blue Ribbon Summer, Book 3

Body Check, Book 4

First Shot At Love, A Baltimore Banners Short Story

Break Away, Book 5

Playmaker, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

Delay of Game, Book 6

Shoot Out, Book 7

The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy

Books 1-3 Boxed set

The Baltimore Banners: 2nd Period Trilogy

Books 4-6 Boxed set

On Thin Ice, Book 8

Coach's Challenge, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

One-Timer, Book 9

Face Off, Book 10

Game Misconduct, Book 11

Christmas Interference, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

Fighting To Score, Book 12

Matching Penalties, Book 13

THE CHESAPEAKE BLADES

Winning Hard, Book 1

Loving Hard, Book 2

Playing Hard, Book 3

FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN

Once Burned, Book 1

Playing With Fire, Book 2

Breaking Protocol, Book 3

Into the Flames, Book 4

Second Alarm, Book 5

Feel The Burn, Book 6

Coming Soon

STAND-ALONE TITLES

Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories (anthology)

Finding Dr. Right

Time To Heal

Dangerous Passion

Dangerous Heat

Illicit Affair

Coming Soon

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Chapter One

The man staring back at him was a stranger.

Dark hair, shot through with silver.

Trimmed beard, showing more salt than pepper.

The eyes were the same, though, a piercing green that flashed with irritation. Too damn bad the effect was muted by the glasses he now wore.

Bryan Torresi raised one hand and thoughtfully stroked the beard, struggling for the cool detachment that was his trademark as he watched the reflection mimic the action.

When the hell did I get so damn old?

The reflection stared back at him, stubbornly refusing to answer the question. Probably a good thing, since that would mean he wasn't only old, but crazy as well. And it wasn't like forty-eight was old. He kept himself in good shape, ate a healthy diet, stayed active. Statistically, he had half his life left to live, maybe more—

Unless the stress of his job finally got to him. If someone had told him twenty years ago that coaching hockey was more stressful than playing it, he would have laughed in their faces then cross-checked the lunatic. But that was then, when his promising career had stretched before him without limitations and he'd been convinced he was invincible.

Life had a damn funny way of letting reality sneak up and bite you on the ass. Not that he had much of a life—it was all about hockey, twenty-four/seven. And that was the problem.

It was a sad commentary on his life that his guys—kids that were damn near young enough to be his actual kids—were settling down and getting married and starting families while he stood off to the side and watched. Not that he had any desire to settle down and get married—he'd resigned himself to bachelorhood a decade ago and was realistic enough not to regret his choices. There was a difference between bachelorhood and lifeless, though, and it was time to face the fact that somewhere along the line, he'd lost sight of that difference.

Which was why he was standing here in the master bathroom of a house that was too big for one person, getting ready more than two hours early for a date with a woman he had never met.

He reached for the box sitting on the counter, his hand hovering over it. The product guaranteed to eliminate the gray for a thicker, fuller beard. Unstated was the promise to remove the signs of aging and restore youthful vitality to the user. Yeah. Sure. Because covering up the gray in his beard would suddenly make him ten years younger.

He didn't believe it, not for a second, but that hadn't stopped him from tossing the box in his cart the other day when he'd gone shopping. And it didn't make him move his hand from where it hovered over that same box, either.

What the hell was wrong with him? Was he actually considering dyeing his beard? And for what? To make an impression on some woman he'd never met in the hopes she'd be interested in a man he was pretending to be?

Bullshit.

The irritation he'd been suppressing shot to the surface and he grabbed the box, tossed it into the small wastebasket with a low curse. He shot a frown at his reflection then stormed out of the bathroom, his fingers already busy with the buttons of his dress shirt.

There would be no dyeing of anything. No tailored suit usually reserved for game day. No pretending to be someone he wasn't in the hopes of impressing someone he didn't know. The unknown woman would either like him for who he was or she wouldn't, it was as simple as that.

Although, if he was smart, he'd cancel the date. He didn't have the time or the inclination for these games, not when past experience told him it was futile. How many dates had he had already been on these past few months? Three? Five? Seven. He'd had seven dates—and each one of them had been an exercise in frustration. He'd had nothing in common with any of the women, had struggled to carry on a conversation with all of them.

The time for these silly ass games was over. He didn't need them, didn't want them. His entire life already revolved around a different game that was a hundred times more important.

Bryan grabbed the phone from his dresser, stabbed at the screen with his thumb to launch the damn dating app he'd foolishly installed. Several taps, that's all he needed to do to cancel the date.

Yet he hesitated and he didn't understand why.

Maybe because it was too close to their scheduled meeting time.

Maybe because he was afraid of disappointing the unknown woman.

Maybe because the part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge told him he should take another chance. Warned him that shutting himself in his house like the recluse he was quickly becoming would get him nowhere.

Not that he had any clue whatsoever on where he wanted to go.

Fool that he was, he finally gave in to that damned annoying voice and tossed the phone on the bed. It was just one date. He'd go, meet the woman, play it by ear. He wouldn't stay long—he couldn't, tomorrow would be a long day with early practice and the unusual Saturday afternoon home game—but he'd go.

One date. Maybe he'd even enjoy himself.

How damned hard could that be? 

Apparently, pretty damn hard.

Two hours later, he sat across from his date—her name was Stacey—and told himself he absolutely would not look at his watch. Not because he didn't want to be damned rude, but because he was genuinely worried he'd see that only five minutes had passed since the last time he'd casually checked.

There was nothing wrong with Stacey. She was pretty. Animated. Oozing sensuality that she was as comfortable with as she was with conversation, even if he wasn't contributing much to it.

And she was at least twenty years younger than he was.

If Stacey cared about the age difference at all, she didn't show it. She'd started flirting with him as soon as they had placed their order with the waiter. Part of him knew