Animal Attraction (San Francisco Dragons Book 2) Read online

  Animal Attraction

  Kate Willoughby

  Kiwi Press

  Contents

  Summary

  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

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Clean Sweep

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Kate Willoughby

  Summary

  What do you do when an NHL player has your dog and won’t give it back?

  First grade teacher Maggie Hudson has been grieving since her dog disappeared three months ago. Imagine her shock when she sees an NHL player being interviewed with her dog sitting next to him.

  NHL player Spencer Corbett is blindsided when a sexy, curvaceous woman shows up on his doorstep demanding to get her beloved pet back. He can’t bear to relinquish the dog he found on the side of the road. After all, the pug gave his aging Labrador a new lease on life. Luckily, just as Maggie begins to leave with her pet, she realizes how important he is to Spencer's dog.

  Their shared custody of the dog leads to passion and possibilities that neither saw coming. Love for the dogs brings them together, but when a past girlfriend shows up with a boy who looks remarkably like Spencer, suddenly their fragile relationship is skating on thin ice. Will the truth shatter everything or will they find the courage to build a future together?

  Animal Attraction can be read and enjoyed as a standalone sports romance.

  1

  “Maggie, get on your computer right now and go to the Dragons’ team website. There’s a video you have to see.” Jade’s voice vibrated with excitement.

  “Why? What’s up?” Cradling her phone between her ear and shoulder, Maggie took a bite of her microwaved meatloaf dinner as she opened up her laptop. “Did they post a new slow-mo of Gideon Aguilar?”

  As hockey fans living in San Francisco, Maggie and Jade adored the NHL Dragons. Even though the team was stinking up the ice this season, she and Jade never missed a game on TV and Gideon Aguilar was a new and welcome addition to the roster. He was arguably one of the sexiest NHL players in the league and the slow-motion video the organization posted last week showed Aguilar exiting the team’s chartered plane. He had a garment bag over his shoulder and was wearing black slacks, a black sweater and sport coat—nothing special, but he had something, a savoir-faire that drew attention. Maybe it was the slight breeze ruffling his hair or that loose-limbed self-assured walk.

  “No, it’s not Aguilar,” Jade said. “It’s your favorite. Corbett. The latest At Home with a Dragon. I’ll hang on while you pull it up.”

  “Oh, that’s different.”

  Maggie took another bite of meatloaf as she watched the opening graphics for the popular series of videos from the Dragon hockey club. Running about five minutes long, the clips documented bits of the personal lives of the players. Maggie always enjoyed these behind-the-scenes looks. The last one went viral because they shared a photo on camera that wasn’t supposed to be shared. And if this segment was about Spencer Corbett, all the better. Even though, at thirty, she was old enough to have baby-sat him when he was a kid, he was her favorite player.

  A beautiful young woman with bright white teeth and blond hair set with perfect waves filled the screen. “Welcome to another edition of At Home with a Dragon. I’m Danica Jackson and today we’re visiting Dragon defenseman Spencer Corbett. Hi, Spencer. Thanks for letting us spend some time with you at home.”

  “No problem.”

  “And who’s this?”

  A dog had bounded into the frame and jumped on Danica’s legs excitedly and Maggie gasped. It was a black and gray pug she’d recognize anywhere. She put her fork down slowly and leaned closer to the computer monitor.

  “Oh my God.”

  “It’s Kirby, isn’t it?” Jade asked on the phone.

  Most pugs were tan with black muzzles. Some were all black, but Kirby was a unique ombre blend of gray and black. His fur looked as if someone had run out of black ink and tried to spread it as far down his gray body as they could.

  Maggie took a deep breath. “You know it is. Oh my God. I can’t believe this.”

  One day she’d come home from work to find Kirby was gone. One of the neighbor kids had kicked a ball into her backyard, went in to get it as she’d told them they could, and hadn’t made sure the gate was latched when they left. As a result, Kirby had gotten out. Sick with worry, she’d searched the area and talked with all the neighbors. She’d posted “lost” signs everywhere, checked the shelters, and offered a reward, all to no avail. It had been three months and, heartsick, she’d given up hope.

  Until now.

  “That is my dog,” she exclaimed. “Spencer Corbett has my dog.”

  “I knew it! That’s why I called you,” Jade said.

  Maggie focused on the video again. Corbett claimed to have found “Blackie” wandering the streets in the middle of the night a little over two months ago. He’d named him Blackie? How original.

  Corbett was talking. “With his coloring, he’s lucky he wasn’t run over. He was in pretty bad shape when I picked him up, but he’s fine now. He and Lulu are best friends. Lulu’s my other dog.”

  On screen, the perky Miss Jackson cooed. “So you rescued him from the streets? Spencer, you’re a hero.”

  No you’re not, Maggie thought. You’re a dog thief! Kirby had a collar on. He always had a collar on.

  Maggie pressed pause on the video. “This is unbelievable. Spencer Corbett has my dog. I need to get in touch with him ASAP, but I don’t think I can just call up the Dragons’ front office and get his phone number.”

  “Why not?” Jade asked. “It’s not like you’re just a fan wanting his autograph. He has your dog.”

  “That’s true. These are unusual circumstances, but they might not believe me.”

  “Well, you could always call the media. They love these kinds of stories. ‘Famous hockey player reunites a lost dog and his owner,’ right? They’ll jump at the chance for a cute feel-good story like this.”

  At work the next day, Maggie had little time to think about Kirby, because it was the 100th day of school and, as a first grade teacher, she had a ton of activities planned. The most complicated one was the quilt of 100 squares. They’d been cutting out the fabric squares all week and today they were going to take turns sewing the quilt with the help of two parents. The quilt would then be auctioned off at an upcoming fundraiser. After school, the first grade teachers had a team meeting, which ran a little long and she had some errands to run that couldn’t be put off any long
er. (The universe was constantly trying to teach her not to procrastinate, but the lessons weren’t taking.) As a result, she didn’t get a chance to call the Dragons until she got home just before five that evening. Kirby belonged to her and damned if she was going to let anyone take him away from her.

  Luckily, someone answered the phone. “Thank you for calling the San Francisco Dragons, how may I direct your call?”

  “My name is Maggie Hudson and I need to talk to Spencer Corbett.”

  “What is this regarding?”

  “He has my dog. I saw on the video he found a dog and it’s mine. The dog he found belongs to me.”

  “Yeah, you and about a hundred other women.”

  Click and dial tone.

  Maggie stared at the phone angrily. Was that true? Were there women out there bogusly claiming that Kirby was their dog, just so they could meet Spencer Corbett? That seemed so desperate. Not to mention stupid. Once those liars got in the same room with Kirby, it would be clear he didn’t know them.

  After revising her strategy, she decided to try again.

  “Thank you for calling the San Francisco Dragons, how may I direct your call?”

  “Yes, I’d like to speak to someone in the PR department, please.”

  There was a pause as she was connected.

  “Dragon PR, Jason Chang speaking”

  “Hi, my name is Maggie Hudson and I wanted to tell you what a great job you’re doing with the Dragon Channel. We fans can’t get enough.”

  “Thank you very much. The crew works hard.”

  “The reason I’m calling is that today I saw Spencer Corbett in his At Home with a Dragon segment and I’m afraid he has my dog. He said he rescued him from the streets, and I don’t doubt that, but it’s my dog and I need to find out how I can get him back. I can prove he’s mine. Kirby has unusual coloring for his breed and I have about a thousand pictures of him on my phone.”

  “Ms. Hudson, I understand your position and I empathize. Of course you want your dog back, but we’re unable to share Mr. Corbett’s phone number with the general public. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course.”

  “But I can certainly give him the message.”

  Maggie left her contact information and crossed her fingers. Kirby was alive and she knew who had him. Spencer Corbett, her favorite hockey player. She’d always gotten the impression that he was a nice guy, a guy with morals. She’d seen him on TV cheering up sick kids at the San Francisco Children’s Hospital. He was always humble and reserved on camera. At fan events, he was friendly and seemed to really focus on the people he was meeting.

  But seeing Corbett with Kirby had knocked her for a loop. Kirby had a microchip. Everyone knew about this technology, didn’t they? Why hadn’t he taken the dog to his vet and had him scanned? And what about his collar? Kirby had a collar with her phone number on it. What had happened to that? These were questions she intended to get answered even though it almost didn’t matter anymore. On the bright side, she knew where Kirby was and it was only a matter of time before he was back home.

  2

  The front offices of the Dragons hockey club were located in a building adjacent to the facility where the team practiced, the Dragon Ice Sports Center, also known as the DISC. People greeted Spencer Corbett as he walked down the hall toward the marketing department. On the walls hung action portraits of some of the most famous Dragons players. He gave a nod to the photo of Jonathan Forsgren, a man Spencer had looked up to as a kid and whose number 11 hung in the rafters of the Dragon Arena.

  When he got to Justin Chang’s office, he rapped his knuckles on the doorjamb. “Hey, I got your message. What’s up?”

  Justin, Senior Director of Marketing and Digital Media, raised a finger and continued talking on the phone. His desk looked as if a file cabinet had exploded on it. The wall calendar behind him was covered with writing, highlighted circles and Post-its. He looked harried as he hung up the phone.

  “Sorry,” Justin said. “I’m swamped. I lost a key guy to the Sharks, damn it, and the Benedict Arnold gave me zero notice. Just handed me his resignation letter and left. I fucking taught him everything he knows and this is how he…” Justin shook his head. “Sorry. You aren’t here to hear me rant and I can’t really spare the time anyway. So here’s the deal. Ever since that At Home with a Dragon video aired, we’ve been fielding a lot of calls from women claiming that you have their dog.”

  Spencer leaned against the doorjamb. “Huh. Go figure.”

  “Most of them we’re writing off. But one of them, this one, might be legit.” He plucked a sticky note off his computer screen and handed it to Spencer. “Her name is Maggie Hudson. She says she has pictures to prove it.”

  “Did you see the pictures?”

  “Nope. Not my circus. Not my monkeys,” Justin said, picking up the phone again and punching in a number. “I’m just passing along the message.”

  When Spencer got home, he was greeted at the door by Lulu and Blackie. Blackie was energetic. His little curly tail was wagging like crazy. Lulu, despite her age, got up to greet him more sedately, like a grand old duchess determined to keep up appearances.

  As he gave them both a dog biscuit, he berated himself for mentioning on the air that he’d found Blackie on the side of the road because now he had a decision to make.

  To call or not to call this Maggie woman.

  His conscience told him the correct course of action would be to find out if Blackie was really hers and if he was, to return him. If their positions were reversed, he’d certainly want his dog back.

  But it wasn’t that simple.

  His family had rescued Lulu and her brother Frank, both labs, thirteen years ago. He had a lot of fond memories of those dogs accompanying them on summer camping trips and then later, when he’d moved away, welcoming him home when he went to visit his parents. After his mom and dad passed away two and three years ago, he took the dogs and they’d lived with him ever since. They’d been his little canine family.

  But then Frank had developed an untreatable cancer. The loss had hit Spencer hard and Lulu harder. She had fallen into a depression Spencer couldn’t lift her out of. She didn’t seem to want to live anymore. It was a struggle to get her to eat or do anything but look at the door as if hoping Frank was going to trot into the house. He’d told her Frank got sick and wasn’t coming back, but she was a dog. She didn’t understand.

  And then, as if by heavenly intervention, he’d found Blackie.

  When he’d brought Blackie home, Lulu had perked up and over the next few days, she’d started eating again, wagging her tail. She’d even taken on a motherly role with Blackie, cleaning his smashed-in black face whenever she got the chance, and Spencer felt a spark of hope when he saw that.

  But now, Lulu’s renewed lease on life was in jeopardy. Even though he knew Maggie Hudson deserved her dog back, Maggie wasn’t going to die if Blackie never found his way back to her. Whereas, he was pretty sure Lulu wouldn’t survive another companion suddenly disappearing on her.

  To call or not to call.

  As he headed toward his bedroom for his game day nap, he decided to put off the decision. He’d only just gotten the message this afternoon and figured he could take a day to figure out what he was going to do. The message said Maggie had been looking for her dog for months, so a couple more days wasn’t going to make much of a difference.

  3

  What kind of jerk didn’t give back a person’s dog?

  The PR man said he had personally given Corbett the message only a couple of hours after she’d called. As the days continued to pass with no word, Maggie grew increasingly frustrated and even angry.

  Finally, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Kirby belonged with her and damned if she was going to let some immoral, spoiled, self-centered jerk who only pretended to be a nice guy for the public, get away with keeping her dog, even if he was an NHL player.

  After making the decision to
hunt down the dog-napper herself, she had watched the video segment again, this time watching for clues as to where he lived. They mentioned Hillsborough. Of course. Very high-class neighborhood. That narrowed it down quite a bit. He dropped the name of an Italian restaurant he frequented that was “within easy walking distance” of his house. That narrowed it even further. She printed a map of the area and marked a three-block radius out from that restaurant. They showed a few seconds of him walking away from his house with the dogs on a leash and she froze the video and took a picture of the view.

  Then because he mentioned a team party he was hosting to watch the All-Star game, she decided to go to his house and accuse him of dognapping in front of all his friends. With any luck, peer pressure would make him give up Kirby. Was it going to be horrid, shaming a Dragons player when for more than ten years she’d rooted for the team with all her heart as a hockey fan? Yes. Could she have gone to the media and exposed him the way Jade had suggested? Yes.

  But what it all came down to was she thought he was morally despicable and she wanted to tell him so to his face. She wanted the satisfaction of taking her dog away from him personally.