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She couldn't help herself, but Hailey did something really stupid. Any other woman would have had less resistance, especially around Micah. He was tall, rich, the most valuable player of his team, and to top it all, utterly gorgeous. What didn't help was the fact that Hailey worked where Micah and his team practised every day. And she watched him from afar. Over the past year she'd fallen hopelessly in love with him, which might have been absolutely fine had her father not minded ... but he did.
Other books on in this series: Wild Obsession -- Wild Heart -- Micah Rush -- Hartley's Crush
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There was an odd hush all around him and Micah could hear his father's voice in the distance, but he wasn't sure if it was a dream. Where the hell was he? Then he smelled the familiar aroma of the ice, then felt it against his face--freezing the skin. Soon he heard whispers of concern, what seemed like thousands of them. He started to lift his head.
-Dammit Rush don't move!
That was his coach. His distinguishable bear-like voice was as clear as day. Thing was, he didn't think he could move if he wanted to. He felt numb from the neck down and there was this odd ringing in his ears. The ice was freezing his cheek and part of his mouth and nose.
Then he heard the thunderous roar of a crowd. Oh hell, now he remembered where he was. He was in the arena. It was quarterfinal playoffs for the cup, but he couldn't remember where.
Dutch Rush erupted on to the ice. All six foot six of hard muscle and he was in his fifties. He'd seen his son go down from a check to the head from an opposing player and he hadn't gotten up.
Normally he'd be hollering for him to do just that. Get up. However, he was no stranger to hockey and he'd felt a hit more than once like that himself. It wasn't one you got up from right away.
Micah was the oldest of his five sons, his first born. He'd trained him himself until he got drafted by the NHL at the tender age of twenty. He'd been pro for six years now and traded three times, but it wasn't due to lack of skills, just the opposite. He was one of the most sought after players in the league along with his buddy and best friend Tyler Hartley.
Because of his less than desirable childhood, Dutch never
knew what love was until his first set his eyes on him. Micah changed him, for the better. Well, his mother certainly had a lot to do with that too, but Micah, he was something else.
He was four when he first met him. His mother and he had slept together once, and Micah was the product. She left town for five years after a fight they had. Actually Dutch practically chased her away and it took some time, but he realized that he was one hundred percent at fault for that. Liz tried to give him everything and he turned her away. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever done.
At the time he didn't want a relationship or kids. How wrong he was. He never realized how empty his life was without both of them. When he first found out he had a son, it felt as if he was given a miracle. He wasn't just a great kid, he was the best kid he'd ever met.
Every time Micah fell and skinned his knee when he was younger, Dutch felt blessed that he was there to pick him up. This one hit he'd just witnessed, he practically felt himself. It was something as a parent that he had to get used to and let Micah out on his own. Letting go of your child, your first born, wasn't easy. He was hard on him growing up, but fair. Liz was there to keep him in line too thankfully.
Like the rest of the crowd, that hit brought him to his feet. He saw him go down, and after a few seconds, still hadn't gotten up. He left his seat in the VIP box and pushed his way through the crowd to the ice below. When he reached the side gate a security guard put his hand on his chest to stop him from going onto the ice, -Think about that. Dutch said abruptly to the shorter man whose head just reached his chest. The man craned his neck up to Dutch and immediately pulled his hand off him. People nearby would say that it was either his height, size, or those icy blue eyes that he was known for in staring down opponents when he played hockey that made the man back off.
-Let him through. Said Terrence McGillivray, the assistant coach who immediately recognized him.
By the time he made it next to Micah, a good two minutes had passed and he still hadn't moved, -Is he conscious? There were half a dozen people around him. Three of them were medics, and then there was his coach, and the players of his own team that were on the ice during his fall concerned and silent. He'd slid to a stop in front of his own player's bench and the rest of the team was leaning over the boards looking down at him in silence. Every now and then they'd mumble something encouraging.
-He was a moment ago. Coach Dan Fox said looking up at him, -he's breathing fine Dutch.
It was hard to hear now because the crowd was booing the opposite team now over the rough play. This was Micah's team's home ice and the crowd was making sure their disapproval was heard. The player that knocked out Micah was sitting in the penalty box while the rest of his team kept their distance. When a player went down like that there was a lot of blame even if it was an innocent check to the boards. However, there was nothing innocent about this.
It wasn't uncommon to target the best players of the other team, and although Micah knew he was on the hit list, he let his guard down. He really didn't see him coming and he was as sharp as a tack on the ice but mistakes happen. Sometimes you get caught up in watching the puck too much, called puck chasing, or anticipating your next move. Though you also had to know where the opposing players were. The thing was, Micah never chased the puck, ever. He knew how to play like he was born on the ice.
Dutch kneeled down next to the paramedic who was putting a brace around his neck. Micah was face up now. The medics had rolled him over carefully when he was making his way to him.