Reforming The Playboy. Karin Baine
rather not take the chance of getting her hopes up, only to be disappointed at the last moment.
* * *
Hunter hadn’t come to ruffle any more feathers. He had enough old enemies without making new ones and he certainly hadn’t intended on upsetting the resident doctor. Gray had called in too many favours for him, none of which he deserved, to screw this up now. His old teammate was the one person who knew what he’d been through and had been willing to give him a chance. One he was grabbing with both hands.
Those selfish, heady days were far behind him now. There was only one reason he was back in this County Antrim town and that was for his son.
Hunter Torrance, the responsible father. It was the punchline to a very sick joke. A disgraced hockey player who’d barely been able to take care of himself now found he was the sole parent to an eight-year-old boy who’d just lost his mother in a car crash. He’d only had a few months to get used to the idea of being a father and to grieve for the relationship he could have had with Sara, the ex-girlfriend who’d hid the huge secret from him. Perhaps if he’d been in the right head space back then, able to love her, they could’ve been the family he’d always dreamed of having. Instead, he’d walked away from her, consumed by his own self-pity, and returned to Edmonton.
For as unreliable as the old Hunter had been, the new one was as determined for his son to have the stable upbringing he’d never had. So he’d given up everything he’d worked hard to rebuild back home to do it. Now all he had to do was convince Sara’s parents, Alfie’s grandparents, and everyone else here he was up to the job.
He’d expected an initial backlash over his appointment here from the players and fans but not from the rest of the medical staff. This doctor probably knew nothing of him beyond his reputation yet it seemed enough to warrant her displeasure at the prospect of having to work alongside him. Not that he could blame her. The back-slapping welcome he’d received had come as a surprise to him too. Tales of his hockey days were probably a novelty to young, up-and-coming players still caught up in the thrill of the game.
For those who’d been personally affected by his behaviour, himself included, he’d prefer to confine his exploits to the past, and he’d told them so. After he’d confirmed or denied several of the urban legends attributed to his name and number.
‘Is it true you spent longer in the penalty box than on the rink for the last month of your career?’
‘Yes.’ He wasn’t proud of it. He hadn’t been trying to play the villain or even defend his own players. The issues from his childhood that he’d tried to suppress had finally come to the surface in an explosion of misdirected rage. Years of therapy had taught him that but it wasn’t information he was willing to share, or a time of his life he was keen to revisit. He was a different man now. Hopefully one more at peace with his past and himself.
‘Did you really punch a linesman and knock out his teeth?’
Hunter sighed. He’d long since apologised to the unfortunate man whose offside decision he’d so violently opposed. ‘One tooth, but I’m afraid to say I did.’
He didn’t want any impressionable young talent to think his past behaviour was an advertisement for anything other than career suicide. ‘It cost me my place on the team, my life here, everything.’
By that stage he’d been completely out of control, drinking too much, lashing out and acting out the role of a child in pain seeking the attention of a family that didn’t want him. Ironically it was that behaviour that had made Sara turn her back on him and deny him a chance of a family of his own.
‘I imagine tales of my debauchery have been greatly exaggerated in my absence. It’s probably best you don’t believe everything you’ve heard about me and form your own opinion. Which mightn’t be any more favourable when you see the new programme I’ve devised for you...’
Whilst a new, intensive regime wouldn’t endear him to his new buddies, it was his way of proving he was serious about his job here. He hadn’t moved halfway across the world to be one of the guys; he was here to make a difference to the team and secure a future for him and Alfie. Gray had clued him in on the challenges he was up against and it was possibly the reason he’d secured the job against the odds—no one else was willing to take on the responsibility of a struggling team at such short notice. Hunter had done his homework and he knew exactly what he was up against but he’d been training for this ever since he’d hit rock bottom and had decided he wanted his life back in whatever capacity was available to him. After years of therapy and retraining he certainly wasn’t going to be put off by the thought of some hard graft.
If only Charlotte had stuck around she would’ve seen the adoration had been short-lived. He’d come prepared with notes and ideas on strengthening and stability exercises for the guys. As a player he knew how much stress the joints and muscles went through. The mechanics of the game and the repetitive actions left the body vulnerable to injury and even a slight strain could easily become a nagging injury, refusing to heal. It was his job to prevent more serious problems further down the line as well as treat them. Regardless of her departure, he’d forged ahead in implementing his new exercise regime, strapped up those who’d needed a bit of extra muscle support and massaged any problem areas in preparation for these next important games.
He’d gone on to treat Colton’s groin strain with a myofascial release of the muscles involved, manipulating the connective tissue with a sustained, gentle pressure to help regain function again.
Murray’s torn meniscus, caused by the trauma of the knee joint being forcefully twisted, thankfully wasn’t severe enough to warrant surgery. Hunter worked to strengthen the muscle surrounding the knee and add to the stability of the joint. The excess swelling and pain were treated with anti-inflammatory medication.
He was sorry Charlotte hadn’t been here to witness his switch back into business mode. His commitment should make her job a little easier too. After all, the medical team was supposed to work together to get the most from the players. It wasn’t an in-house competition to decide who deserved their place here over the other.
* * *
The noise of the crowd and the smell of the crisp, clean ice took Hunter back to his own game nights, and gave him the same adrenaline rush it always had. His first match tonight wasn’t so much about that final score for him but about his personal performance. He wanted to make a good impression and shoot down all the naysayers who still believed he was a liability in any capacity here.
He filed down the players’ tunnel with the rest of the game crew. It was odd being part of the team without being part of the team. He was almost anonymous, standing here in the shadows. The way he preferred it. It was circumstance that had dragged him back into the outer edges of the spotlight.
He ventured out far enough to glance around the arena, trying to pick out those present who’d brought this sudden and dramatic change to his way of life.
‘Are you looking for someone?’ Charlotte appeared beside him.
‘Er...no one in particular.’ The seats he’d arranged for Alfie and his grandparents were still empty but he wasn’t going to share that information with anyone. He’d learned the hard way to keep details of his personal life out of the public domain and he wasn’t about to jeopardise his chances of getting custody of his son for anybody. Even if it might take that look of disgust off her face.
The intense reaction he was able to draw from her with minimal goading fascinated him and he didn’t know why, beyond wondering what he’d done to deserve it. She wasn’t his usual type, at least not the old Hunter who’d enjoyed the company of more...appearance-obsessed ladies who’d revelled in their sexuality. Sara hadn’t been bold or brash but she’d certainly given her feminine attributes a boost with beauty treatments and figure-hugging outfits.
Charlotte was a natural beauty, shining brightly through her attempts to disguise it. Even wearing her game crew red fleece and with her chestnut-brown hair swept to one side in a messy braid, she was as pretty as a picture. He wouldn’t deny it but neither would he