The Machine Read online

  THE MACHINE

  STEPHANIE JULIAN

  He’s cool as ice and hot AF

  Jake Mozik has fought his way back from a possible career-ending injury and has returned to the Redtails focused and ready to reclaim his former glory as half of the best defensive duo in the league. But his attraction to the fierce Faith is unexpected and distracting.

  Faith doesn’t usually fall for overly confident, uber sexy jocks. But when she does, apparently she falls pretty damn hard. Jake is so not her type. Or so she thinks. Until he shows up to volunteer at the alternative school where she works and she sees a different side of the normally cocky athlete. He’s kind and patient and— Damn it, she is not falling for this guy. She’s rebuilding her life after a near-fatal accident and there’s no room for a man.

  Jake is determined to make room in Faith’s life. And once he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t let go until he gets what he wants. And he wants it all…

  Find out more! Join Stephanie in her private Reader Salon on Facebook.

  And don’t miss these other stories in the Redtails Hockey series:

  The Brick Wall

  The Grinder

  The Enforcer

  The Instigator

  The Playboy

  The D-Man

  The Machine

  Chapter One

  “No, I am not pushing too hard. I will be fine.”

  “Jake, I know the doctor gave you the all-clear but—”

  “Yes. He did. And I am fine. I do not need you to tell me what I can do. I know my body.”

  From the other side of the room, Faith Donovan could clearly hear the conversation playing out. It was almost word-for-word what she’d heard several other times.

  Her physical therapy buddy, who barely acknowledged her presence during these tri-weekly sessions, was in rare form today. After the past few months of therapy, she’d learned to recognize that tone in his voice.

  Jake Mozik was pissed.

  Not that she blamed him. She totally understood.

  She’d been where he was today. She’d had someone telling her not to push, not to go too fast, not to run before she could walk…again.

  She hadn’t listened either.

  If she had, she wouldn’t be where she was now, strengthening the legs she’d been told she’d never be able to use to walk again.

  So yeah, she understood his frustration. And his determination.

  “I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” Jake’s therapist sounded resigned. “I just don’t want you to undo everything you’ve accomplished this past month and jeopardize your progress.”

  As a hockey player for the Reading Redtails, Jake had been injured late in the previous season. She’d been at the game that night, had seen the vicious hit he’d taken from another player. Had thought he’d never be able to play again.

  The player who’d hit him had been suspended five games. Jake had lost the rest of that season and all of this season so far.

  She knew he’d stayed in the states over the summer instead of returning home to the Czech Republic so he could have surgery to repair the torn hamstring in his leg. She knew he’d had complications after the surgery that’d set back his recovery by months.

  Been there, done that.

  He’d been off the ice for nine months, and that was a hell of a long time for a professional athlete not to play.

  She knew he wanted to be on the ice after the new year. She’d heard him say it out loud, as if just by saying it, he could make it come true.

  If there was anything she’d learned about Jake during these ninety-minute sessions over the past three months, she knew he usually got what he wanted.

  Today, though, he was frustrated and ready to blow.

  She’d only seen that happen twice since he’d started therapy with Ivan. The first time had been at his first session, when he hadn’t been able to do more than a couple reps of leg lifts.

  He’d almost put his fist through the wall in the locker room. She only knew that because she’d been passing by at the exact moment and heard him do it. Otherwise, she didn’t think anyone would’ve known.

  Which was probably how Jake would’ve wanted it.

  The therapists here called Jake “The Machine” for good reason. The man earned every letter of that nickname for being a stone-cold robot when it came to his recovery.

  Except on those very few days when he couldn’t hold in the anger and frustration anymore. Then he waited until he was alone and beat up on the first concrete wall he could find.

  The second time…

  She swallowed hard against the memory because, honestly, she had to admit, if only to herself, it’d made her want to wrap her arms around him and force him to accept her comfort.

  Something she knew he’d never do.

  First of all, they didn’t really know each other. Sure, they knew each other and not just through therapy. Her friend, Bliss, dated the team’s former goalie, Shane. Before Shane had moved up to the Redtails’ NHL affiliate, the Philadelphia Colonials, Faith had spent time with the team and had a passing acquaintance with Jake.

  The first time she’d met him, he’d seemed arrogant, aloof, kind of a prick. He hadn’t been the friendliest person. At least, not to her. Or, apparently, to any of the other women who clustered around the team, looking to score a professional athlete boyfriend.

  His rep among the puck bunnies was that he was a dick. Which didn’t stop them from trying to bag him.

  Faith didn’t think Jake was a dick.

  “I will not get better if I do not push.”

  “True. But I just want—”

  “—me to take it slow. I understand this. But I told you. I am not slow.”

  Looking up, Faith exchanged a furtive grin and a raised eyebrow with her therapist as Marisol worked to strengthen Faith’s legs. It’d been more than two years since the accident that had almost, almost, stolen her ability to walk. But, like Jake, she’d been unwilling to believe she wouldn’t walk again.

  Not that Jake couldn’t walk. He could. But he wanted to skate and he wanted to play. And Jake played hockey hard. That meant he needed every part of his body to work at peak condition.

  Faith could hear Ivan sigh from across the room.

  “I know,” Ivan said. “I also know that if you push too hard, too fast, you’ll hurt yourself and end up back here and that’s not what you want.”

  The silence from across the room was deafening as Faith tried to turn her full attention back to her own exercises.

  She and Marisol had been working together for a year now, and Marisol’s quiet encouragement worked well for Faith. The experienced therapist had gotten her farther along in her recovery than she could’ve hoped when she’d started.

  A year ago, she’d been ready to give up. Her previous therapist had told her she’d probably never walk again without the use of some aid, whether it was a cane or a walker.

  She’d almost believed him. At that point, it had been easier to believe him than to keep feeling like she was banging her head against the wall trying to progress.

  Then Shane had suggested she check out this physical therapy group that specialized in sports medicine. She’d almost ignored his advice.

  She was so glad she hadn’t. Marisol had been a godsend.

  “I will do reps again.”

  Now, Marisol rolled her eyes and shook her head. But she didn’t say anything out loud.

  Didn’t matter. Faith knew exactly what she was thinking because she thought the same thing.

  Damn stubborn man.

  She wanted to march over there and smack him on the back of his head then try to shake some sense into him. Wanted to scream at him to be more careful because you never knew when you cou
ld relapse. She’d also been there and done that. Hadn’t been pretty.

  Instead, she kept her mouth shut and focused on her own exercises for the rest of the session.

  Well, mostly. She certainly couldn’t be blamed if she peeked at Jake a few times. The man had a body that drew attention like sugar drew bees.

  He was built. Beautifully.

  Tall, broad, strong. Everywhere. Chest. Arms. Legs. Ass. The man had a damn fine ass.

  And that face… His jaw looked like it’d been chiseled from stone and so did his cheekbones. And those pale blue eyes were killers.

  Down, girl.

  Yeah, no sense getting herself hyped up over something she’d never have. She and Jake had been in therapy together for months, but other than polite conversation between two people who had a passing acquaintance with each other from another part of their life, they didn’t really talk.

  Not that he was ever rude or dismissive. They just didn’t talk.

  “Hey, great job today, Faith,” Marisol said with a smile. “We won’t have sessions for a week because of the holidays so you have a merry Christmas and don’t party too much on New Year’s Eve.”

  Smiling, Faith looked up and—

  Her left leg chose that moment to go weak for no reason other than sometimes that happened. Sometimes, it just didn’t work the way it was supposed to, didn’t get the right signal from her brain or whatever.

  She’d been standing up after being seated on the leg bench and she went down to the mat with an “oof” quickly followed by a “fuck” that sounded pretty damn loud.

  Marisol was on her knees beside her in a split second, hand on Faith’s shoulder.

  “Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?”

  Shit. Just…shit.

  Yes, she was fine. Mostly.

  Her left thigh ached and her back hurt and she knew she’d been pushing herself hard the past week. Maybe just as hard as Jake had been.

  And maybe she’d been pushing herself because she’d been watching him.

  “Of course, she is not okay. She is on ground.” A hand appeared in front of her face. “Get up, Faith.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted at the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him say her name before. Hell, she hadn’t been sure he even knew her name.

  And then there was that accent that sent a lick of heat through her body.

  He was Czech, which she knew because she’d looked him up. Sue her. She’d been curious.

  She’d thought he might be Russian. From her limited knowledge, he fit the mold. The blond hair. Those blue eyes. Those cheekbones.

  She’d never thought much about a guy’s cheekbones before but, damn, Jake’s made her want to lick them.

  Blinking that thought out of her head, she shifted her gaze to his hand, still holding steady in front of her face.

  Big. Broad. Scarred.

  “Faith. Take my hand.”

  Okay, now that sounded like a demand. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. Her lips pursed as she bit back her refusal.

  She didn’t need his damn help and she was about to tell him exactly that when his eyebrows rose in challenge.

  Damn him.

  He couldn’t miss her glare even if he didn’t acknowledge it.

  She swore the man had ice water running through his veins.

  Maybe she’d just ignore him and get herself off the floor. She’d been taking care of herself on her own for months. She’d fallen more times than she could remember in the past year since she’d regained the use of her legs, and she’d always picked herself back up.

  But right now, sitting on her ass in front of this hot guy, suddenly wanting to cry for no reason, she wanted help. She wanted someone to pick her up off the floor and tell her everything would be okay. Wanted someone to wrap their arms around her and hold her.

  She thought she’d found that man years ago. Then he’d left her at the church in a beautiful white wedding gown with pews full of people. At least he didn’t bolt at the altar. Jimmy had had the good sense not to show up at all. Of course, he’d been the one—

  Nope. Not happening. Not going there.

  Blinking back the wetness in her eyes, she took a breath and released it on a sigh. Then she took his damn hand.

  She almost expected him to yank her to her feet so she was a little surprised when he simply held her hand. His was warm and big and practically engulfed hers, the palm rough with calluses.

  Their gazes met and held and, for several long seconds, she stared into his eyes. They were such a beautiful blue, she couldn’t look away. And she didn’t move.

  Until that little voice in the back of her brain reminded her that she didn’t really like this guy.

  Yeah, right.

  She tore her gaze away but found herself staring at his chest as she maneuvered around until she was in a position to stand.

  Why did he have to be so damn nice to look at?

  His t-shirt clung to his broad chest and the muscles bulged beneath the thin cotton. She could just imagine the six-pack below. Could imagine running her hands over them.

  Jake Mozik was in amazing shape, especially his upper body. She didn’t think the guy had ever been in bad shape. Whereas she carried a few extra pounds than she used to because she couldn’t do all the things she liked to do. Like run. Or play soccer.

  But that was going to change, damn it.

  As soon as she got her ass off the damn floor.

  Tightening her grip on his hand, she used the leverage to pull herself up to standing, grimacing a little at the pain in her knee. It wasn’t bad but, damn it, she didn’t want there to be any pain at all.

  Be glad you can use it at all.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She refused to acknowledge the little shiver of excitement at the sound of his voice. But she still had to swallow before she could answer.

  “No. I’m okay.”

  But she wouldn’t be if he continued to hold her hand because, for some reason, her body reacted to his touch like he was doing something other than holding her hand.

  She loosened her grip.

  He didn’t.

  Her eyes shot back up to his and now she saw something pass through that cool blue gaze. Something that made her eyes widen. It was there and gone in a flash and she knew later she’d wonder if she’d even seen it at all.

  But right here and now, she was pretty damn sure she saw…heat. If not full-blown heat, then at least warmth.

  For her.

  Huh.

  It stunned her, enough so that she tilted her head back even more to look at him. She’d never considered herself short before but standing next to him, she did.

  If she wanted to kiss him, she’d need his help. He’d have to bend.

  Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen. Besides, you don’t even like him.

  A split second later, he released her hand and she took a step away, breaking whatever voodoo spell he’d had on her.

  “Thanks.”

  Her voice sounded rough, a little husky, and she cleared her throat.

  Jake took a step away. And then another.

  “Is no problem. Be more careful. Would be bad to see you hurt after all this.”

  Then he turned and retreated to his side of the room.

  And she said goodbye to Marisol as she headed for the locker room.

  And told herself to forget whatever the hell had just happened.

  Chapter Two

  A month later

  “Damn, man, you were on a mission tonight. It’s so fucking good to have you back.”

  Derek dropped into the seat next to Jake at the bar owned by his girlfriend’s father and wrapped his arm around Jake’s shoulder in a bone-crunching hug.

  Though he normally shrugged off his teammates’ shows of affection off the ice, he didn’t now.

  Tonight, he appreciated the fact that he’d been on the ice with these guys and he’d played a
hell of a good game.

  But that didn’t mean he had to shock the hell out of everyone and suddenly become a marshmallow.

  Jake shook his head but couldn’t stop his own grin. Yes, it was damn good to be back.

  “Dude.” Robbie grinned at him from across the table. “You r-rock. That goal was pure m-magic.”

  As the team talked over and under and around each other, laughing and enjoying the win over the top team in the league, Jake finally released the breath he felt like he’d been holding for nine months. Since the night he’d gone down on the ice and hadn’t been able to get up on his own.

  He’d never felt as frightened as he had that night: the pain had been excruciating and his brain had told him he was finished.

  Now…the only thing that would make this night better was if Lad were here. But his former teammate had been called up to the Colonials. And while he was ecstatic about Lad’s opportunity, he couldn’t help a little silent pity party that his best friend wasn’t here to celebrate his return.

  “Good pass makes it easy.” Jake shrugged. “Will and I work well together.”

  “True that.” From across the table, Will held out his fist, and though Jake bumped his own fist against Will’s, he made it clear he was only doing it because he was in a good mood.

  Which was completely true.

  “Here’s to more wins,” Will raised his beer glass, “and another run at the Calder Cup.”

  Jake and the rest of the team raised their own glasses to the toast as well.

  “Jake, I’m so glad you’re back on the ice.” From above, the feminine voice broke through the rumble of the males.

  Looking up and over his shoulder, Jake nodded and smiled at Vivi Martin, Justin’s girlfriend, who also happened to work here.

  But she wasn’t working tonight. She must have been at the game because she wore a Redtails sweater with Justin’s number on the sleeve.

  “Thank you. Is good to be back where I belong.”

  “You had a great game tonight. I’m happy for you.”

  Whipping his head around to the other side, he came face-to-face with the woman who’d spoken. And now he knew he would have trouble keeping his thoughts off his face.