Best laid plans colorado.., p.1
Best Laid Plans (Colorado Black Diamonds Book 2), page 1
Copyright © 2024 by Emily Silver
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
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BEST LAID PLANS
A Colorado Black Diamonds Novel
EMILY SILVER
To all the Pipers of the world…stay soft, your Cash will come along <3
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Best of the Best
Author’s Note
Also by Emily Silver
About the Author
Prologue
PIPER
“That sounds like a great plan, sweetheart.”
“Are you sure? It’s not too lame?” I ask my mom on the phone.
“I know the team has been away, so I think Duncan would love spending some quality time with you.”
“I’ve missed him.”
The life of being a pro hockey player’s girlfriend. My boyfriend and the Black Diamonds have been gone on a thirteen-day, six-game stretch. The team was dominant. You couldn’t have asked for a better start to their season.
“I know when your dad played, I hated the away games. And that was only a few days.”
“I just hope he likes this surprise.”
“Trust me, he will.” I can almost hear my mom’s smile through the phone. “Tell Duncan we said hi.”
“I will. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too.”
I end the call and shoulder open the door of my small car. Grabbing the bag of groceries on the front seat, I head into the lobby of Duncan’s building.
It’s one of the more modern buildings in downtown Denver. The lobby is all glass and marble. Sunlight beams through the lobby in the early afternoon. It’s way too fancy for my taste, with an ornate gold fountain in the middle of the outer courtyard, but Duncan likes it. Mainly because of the doorman. Because what professional athlete doesn’t need security, he told me.
“Hi, Miss Fields.”
“Hi, Ray.” I wave to the older security guard who mans the front desk. “How was your family reunion?”
He gives me a big toothy smile. “It was wonderful. Happy to see all the grandkids come in from Texas.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Thanks for asking. I’ll buzz you up.”
“Thank you.” I give him a smile before hoisting my purse higher up on my shoulder as I wait for the doors to open.
The elevator to the penthouse condo opens and I step in. The ride to the top of the building is swift. With each floor I pass, my nerves grow.
It’s always like this after a stretch of away games. All I really get during these times is a few texts here and there. Duncan says he likes to stay in game mode and not break his concentration with phone and video calls.
I don’t get it, but I don’t want to mess with the mojo.
The elevator opens and I head to the one door on the top floor of the building. Windows look out over the bustling city. It’s the perfect fall day in Denver.
Grabbing my key, I open the door to Duncan’s place. It might not be one of the most exciting ways to welcome him home, but I love cooking. And it’s one of the ways I love showering Duncan with attention.
Dating a hockey player is something I never thought would happen. But when I started working for the Black Diamonds, I couldn’t resist Duncan.
Those green eyes and that blond hair drew me in. I was a goner by the end of the first date.
Unlocking the door, I nearly trip over something in the entryway. Kicking it out of the way, my eyes are drawn to it.
A red lacy bra.
“What in the world?”
It’s then a sound hits my ears. The deep moans of my boyfriend. And a second voice shouting his name.
Dropping the bag on the floor, I follow the noise.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.
But what in the world is going on?
I take a deep, centering breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. Opening the door to his room, I’m greeted by his bare ass sticking up in the air. With a woman lying below him. Completely naked.
“What the fuck, Duncan?!” I shout.
“Shit.” He flies up off the bed, dick sticking out between his legs. “What are you doing here, Piper?”
“Oh my God!” I recognize the female voice.
It takes me a second to place until she pops up to pull the sheet over her breasts.
“Ava?” My roommate. And supposed friend. “What in the hell are you two doing?”
“Better question is what are you doing here?”
“Me? You gave me a key!” My voice is bordering on shrieking.
“Not to use whenever you wanted.” Duncan shifts a pillow over his steadily deflating cock.
“I thought you were going to be at the arena for a few more hours, and I wanted to surprise you.”
“Piper…”
“Look, Piper—”
Ava and Duncan both talk over one another.
I hold up both my hands, not wanting to have this conversation with two naked people in a room that smells like sex and cheap cologne.
“Duncan, can I talk to you? In the living room?”
I leave the room. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wipe that image out of my head. Of Duncan’s bare ass sticking up in the air as he was fucking her.
My boyfriend and my roommate. How could I have been so stupid?
Stalking out, I’m a raging mess. When I talked to Duncan last night, he said he had practice today. Practice. How many times has he used that excuse and was instead fucking Ava? How many times had she blown off girls’ nights to be with him?
Duncan struts into the living room in a pair of boxers. Ones that I gave him for his birthday. What an asshole.
For someone who just got caught cheating, he doesn’t have an ounce of remorse on him. Not a single bit of regret. There’s scratches down his chest and marks on his pecs.
“What in the world is going on, Duncan?”
“Babe, look…” He moves closer to me, but that’s the last thing I want.
I wave my hands in front of him. “I mean, I know what was going on, but why?”
“Piper, babe.”
“Stop calling me babe!” I scream. Duncan and his stupid nicknames. “You were fucking Ava! My friend!”
Duncan leans against the table, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His overly waxed chest. God, what did I ever see in this guy?
“I told you things weren’t serious between us.”
“You gave me a key,” I tell him like it’s the most obvious statement in the world. “Why else would you give me a key?”
“Piper, I can’t be tied down.”
“Can’t be tied down? What does that even mean?”
Duncan scoffs. “Exactly what it sounds like. I’m not meant to be with one person.”
“So instead of telling me like a grown-up, you decide to let me see you fucking my friend?”
Duncan at least looks a little remorseful at those words.
“Piper. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Duncan. I’m so glad that you decided your dick couldn’t stay in your pants and you had to go get action elsewhere.”
“It was fun while it lasted, Piper, but I just don’t see things working out between us.”
“You know, I guess I should be thanking you. At least you saved me from wasting more time on this relationship.”
Ava chooses this moment to walk out of his room. Her dark hair is still disheveled and she looks even less remorseful than Duncan. “Everything okay out here?”
&
How was I ever attracted to someone like him?
“You need to find somewhere else to live, Ava.”
Bright side is it’s only my name on the lease. She moved in with me when her place fell through at the last minute. Now I have an idea of what might have happened.
“I can stay with Duncan.” She drags a black-tipped fingernail down his chest.
“Sure thing, babe.” He drops a kiss on her lips.
“God, you two were made for each other. No class at all.”
“Piper. Have some respect.”
I roll my eyes, ready to slap the man standing in front of me. “Like the respect you’re clearly giving me?”
“I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Don’t worry. The last thing I want is to be here a minute longer.” I shake my head, walking to the door and grabbing my purse.
“Piper?” Duncan asks from behind me. I don’t turn around, resting my hand on the door.
“What?” I’m seething.
“Things don’t have to be awkward if we don’t let them be.”
“So what, now you want me to respect your decision and make it easy for you?”
“Easy for us both.”
This time, I turn around, giving him the best fake smile I can muster. Digging his key out of my purse, I shove it at his chest. “Sure, Duncan. Easy for both of us. I’ll make sure things are just peachy.”
“Thanks.”
He turns his attention back to Ava, missing the sarcasm dripping from my voice. I storm out of his place and head for the elevator.
This was not how I expected my night to go.
Dinner and maybe fooling around with Duncan, sure.
Walking in on him and my friend?
So much for surprising my boyfriend. I guess I was the one in for a surprise.
Chapter One
CASH - ONE MONTH LATER
“How do you feel about today’s loss, Cash? Does it sting?”
I blink. Blink again.
Who the fuck does this reporter think he is?
Of course losing to Dallas fucking stings. They’re the worst team in the league, and we let what should have been an easy win slip through our fingers.
We lost. How does this guy think I’m supposed to be feeling? Ecstatic?
Fucking reporters. I hate these questions.
“Cash?”
“Well, it doesn’t feel good.”
“Do you think you getting into fights on the ice and giving Dallas two power play goals contributed to the loss?”
“Well,” I start, “if the refs would have called the penalties against them since they were at fault, then maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference.”
It’s not my fault the refs have their heads up their ass and can’t see a penalty when it hits them in the face. The Dallas guy hit me with a high stick first. I had to return it, didn’t I?
“And how will you bounce back against Tampa?”
“Play better,” I deadpan.
Seriously. What does he think I’m going to say? We’re just going to lie down and take the loss and keep losing?
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
This guy is a good head shorter than I am. He has an air about him that he is a know-it-all of everything hockey. It makes me dislike him even more.
He probably did a quick Google search on what hockey is and then called it a day before getting this job. It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but I can’t help it.
Idiotic questions bring out the best in me like that.
He shoves the mic farther into my face.
Don’t punch this guy, Cash. Stay calm.
“We’re going to roll over and just give away the rest of the season.”
“What?” He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. I’ve thrown him off his game of asking each question he usually asks after the game. Not the PC answer he was expecting.
“What do you think we’re going to do? It’s one loss. It’s not the end of the fucking world.”
“I think that’s all we have time for today.” Cassie, our PR woman, appears at my side. “Thanks, Franklin.”
He takes his dismissal better than I would have. The Denver Tribune reporter caught me in the tunnel before I made it to the locker room. Which makes me like him even less.
“Cassie—”
“Not now, Cash.” Her heels click on the tunnel floor as I follow her back to the locker room. “Clean up and meet me outside when you’re done.”
Fuck me.
Just what I want after a hard game. A conversation with our PR manager. No doubt I’m going to get my ass handed to me for my responses in that interview.
From day one, we’re given a strict lesson on how to deal with the press so we don’t paint ourselves or the team in a bad light. Sometimes, it’s just hard to handle after a tough loss.
As if it’s not bad enough that we got beat on home ice tonight, but also answering inane questions from reporters? It’s the last thing I want to deal with.
“Oh, sorry! Didn’t see you there.” A small body bumps into me. I look down at Noah Fields’s little sister. A bright smile is pasted on her face and blonde hairs stick to her cheeks. “Sorry about the loss, Cash. You’ll get ’em next time.”
“You know we lost, right?”
“I know.” She looks too chipper for the team losing. “You still have a winning record. One of the best in the league. I think you’ll bounce back.”
“You’re about the only one.”
“Cash! Don’t keep me waiting!” Cassie barks at me before heading down the hall that leads to the corporate offices.
“Sorry. Guess you need to go.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t let them get you down.” Piper gives my forearm a squeeze.
I don’t respond, but watch as she heads toward the training room. There’s a pep in her step that’s hard to ignore. I shouldn’t be ogling her. She’s my teammate’s little sister. But damn, does she have an ass on her.
When the door clicks shut, I shake off the ass-induced fog and head into the locker room. Instead of the jubilant, postgame celebration of a win, heads are hanging.
Some losses are harder than others. Losing to an opponent—one that we assumed would be an easy win—is always hard.
Walking around the Black Diamonds logo that covers the carpeted floor made to look like the ice rink in the arena, I head to my locker. From the day I walked into the arena, I was told it was bad luck to walk on the Black Diamonds logo. Maybe someone walked on it and that’s the reason we lost.
I drop onto the padded leather bench seat in front of my locker.
Wooden lockers, lit up from above, line the room. The light has a blue tint to it for our team colors. Except tonight, it highlights the way everyone is feeling.
It smells like sweat and regret in here.
“Not the result any of us wanted tonight, men.” Coach Barney isn’t overly emotional. Only a big win or loss will get a reaction from him. Clearly that reporter needed to come talk to Coach B. If he’s not worked up about one loss, why should the rest of us be?
“We’ll take a look at the film tomorrow and see what mistakes we can clean up. Don’t let this loss settle in. Brush it off. Tomorrow is a new day.”
Maybe if I had said that to the reporter, I wouldn’t have to go talk to Cassie. It’s all adding to my mood taking a nosedive. I grab my towel and hit the showers.
Steam fills the shower room from guys already in here. I ignore all of them and find the last stall at the end. Where I always go after a game—win or lose.
I hate losses like this. Any loss sucks. You never want to be on the wrong end of a game when the final horn blows.
Especially when that voice comes back into my head. The one that tells me I didn’t play well and let my team down. How I’m a waste of space.
Fuck. This is why losses get to me even more some days.
Hot water sluices down my body, but it does little to help my shoulder muscles, tightly bunched around my ears.
I crack my neck and rinse off. No sense in standing here if it’s not going to help my sour mood.
I sling a towel low around my hips and head back to the locker room. A few guys are already heading out, likely to meet their loved ones in the family suite.
