“I’ve been missing out.”
Alex shrugged and changed the subject, asking the question on the tip of his tongue from the moment his buddy had walked onto the patio. “What you doing here? Surely this place is not your idea of vacation.”
“Not yours either. I understand you were exiled here by management.”
“You could say that, but why are you here?”
“’Cuz I’m a good buddy, and I came to rescue you from boredom.”
“I am not sure that is good idea. We get each other in trouble, and I am not bored.” As soon as he said the words, he realized there was truth to them.
“Yeah and trouble is so much fun. How are the island girls here?” The bastard must’ve read something on Alex’s face as his eyebrows disappeared under that shaggy mop of hair all the chicks dug.
“They are sparse, dude.”
“You’re lying. I know you. You found one you’re keeping to yourself. We’ve always shared.”
“Not exactly.” Alex and Cave had often hooked up with different girls over a weekend and then swapped with each other the next night. Most were looking to sleep through the entire NHL, so they were more than happy to move on to the next guy.
“Why did you mark this book up?” Cave thumbed through the pages. “And it’s not even on the good stuff.”
“The local bookstore owner knows the author and asked me to point out hockey inaccuracies so her friend could fix them.”
“Local bookstore owner? Is she single? I could go for a hot-librarian type.”
So could Alex. The few times he’d seen Rosalind in those dark glasses had set his imagination on fire. Cave might be a Neanderthal deserving of his nickname when it came to manners and tact, but he was astute and clever. Something in Alex’s manner must have clued him in.
“There’s something you aren’t telling me about this librarian. Have you done her yet?”
“She is not interested.”
“Since when has that stopped you?”
Alex sighed. He was seriously obsessed with a woman who couldn’t be more incompatible. “She does not fall for my lines.”
Cave scrutinized him until Alex had to get away from those knowing eyes.
“I will get snacks.” Like a coward, he disappeared into the house and took his time loading a tray with chips, cheese, dip, and all the sordid junk food he could find. In one way, he should be happy to have a kindred spirit on the island, yet he almost wished his buddy wasn’t here. The temptation to drink and party had been minimal until now.
He carried the tray to the deck and set it on a patio table. Cave grabbed a paper plate and stacked it high, shoving food in his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Alex watched him with detachment, not interested in sitting on his ass and consuming great amounts of alcohol. Finally, he rose to his feet. “The tide is out. How about walk along the beach trail before it is too dark to see?”
Cave gaped at him as if he’d just been eaten by a wild animal and spit back out into a human form he didn’t recognize. “A walk? Like a nature walk? You’re shitting me, right?”
“Actually, I am not. You can come with, or I go alone.”
Without waiting for Cave to follow, Alex strolled across the lawn. He glanced over his shoulder. Cave was still sitting on the patio, his mouth agape and looking stupefied. Chuckling, Alex picked his way down the bank to the partially hidden path to the water’s edge.
Chapter 9—The Book Club
Alex walked to the bookstore the next afternoon, tailed by Cave. His buddy had consumed every beer in the house and passed out watching a chase scene on some old cop movie. He hadn’t woken up until noon. Alex had been up since seven a.m., which before coming to this island would’ve been the time he’d be crawling into bed.
Alex was concerned for his teammate. The guy drank like a fish and didn’t seem to have a shutoff. Only a few short weeks ago, Alex would’ve been doing the same. He didn’t miss the constant partying like he thought he would. Instead, he was enjoying the little things, such as a sunny day or the water lapping against the shore. He wasn’t sure that he’d changed as much as allowed the real him to surface, and he doubted this respite from his previous lifestyle was permanent.
Alex finished marking up RoAnn’s book and planned to discuss his suggestions with Rosalind that afternoon. Not wanting Cave to come on to Rosalind, he was heading out the door when his buddy staggered out of the bathroom and insisted tagging along. They walked down the main street, and Cave glanced around with bleary eyes.
“What do you do here for fun? This place looks boring as hell.”
Alex would’ve agreed not too long ago, but the island magic had caught him in its spell, and he appreciated the laid-back lifestyle, especially since he wouldn’t be stuck here forever. Once he proved he was leadership material, Ethan would get off his back, and he could go back to his wicked ways but more underground than before and toned down somewhat.
“Is not bad. I play poker for nickels at the veterans club on Wednesdays. I explore island, hike, run, work out.” He stopped and looked his buddy up and down. “You have put on pounds. Might want to cut back junk food and step up workouts.”
“I haven’t been working out since we won the Cup.” Cave had the decency to look sheepish. “I’ll get to it soon.”
“Do not wait too long.”
“This place is nowhere. I really don’t know how you can take it?”
“I did not have choice at first.”
“Yeah, so I heard. That sucks. I think they were going to talk to me next, so I got out of town. They can’t talk to me if they can’t find me.”
“We have played it fast and loose. Maybe is time to slow down.”
“Who the fuck are you, and what did you do with Rush, my party buddy? Don’t tell me you’re going to become dull and boring like Brick?” Brick, the team’s starting goalie, had settled down with a wife and daughter and kissed his wild and crazy days goodbye.
Alex shrugged. “I do not want to be traded. Sockeyes are premier organization.”
Cave shook his head and rolled his eyes. “It’s a damn shame. You were a legend.”
Alex didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He’d just had the breath stolen from his lungs.
Rosalind stood on the sidewalk talking to another local. The sun glinted off her golden hair. She tilted her pretty face slightly and smiled her sweet smile. He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Regaining his footing, he ignored Cave’s curious glance and his laughter.
His attention was drawn back to Rosalind, like he was metal and she was the magnet.
Damn, but she was gorgeous in a girl-next-door way. He licked his lips, imagining her naked in the moonlight on all fours in his big king bed. He’d gather that mass of hair in his fist and pull her head back to expose her neck, then he’d—
“Alex!” Cave snapped his fingers in front of Alex’s face. “What is—” Cave followed Alex’s gaze and a predatory smile crossed his face. Fisting his hands, Alex curbed the urge to draw back his fist and slam it into his buddy’s smug face. He hated the hungry way the other man ogled Rosalind. Narrowing his eyes, he shot Cave a warning glare, but his friend paid no attention.
Cave strode up to her and held out a hand. “Well, hello, pretty lady. I’m Jasper, Rush’s teammate.”
Rosalind directed her puzzled expression to Alex. “Rush?”
“Rush is my nickname.”
“Because your Russian?”
“Uh, yeah, that.” Let her believe they called him Rush because he was Russian.
Cave cleared his throat. Alex ignored him, but Rosalind had better manners.
“I’m so sorry, Jasper. I’m Rosalind. I own this bookstore.” She made a sweeping gesture to indicate the building behind him.
“My pleasure.” Cave grabbed her hand a little too hard, and she winced. He let go quickly. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget my own strength.
“Cave, go down street and get lunch. I will talk to
Rosalind about book I read for her.”
“Oh, no, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily. I’m sticking with you and the prettiest lady on the island.”
Rosalind giggled, actually giggled, and Cave smirked, enjoying himself too much. “Come on in. Could I help you find something to read?”
“I’d love that, Roz. I’m a big reader, but I finished my last book.”
The lying bastard. Could he even read? And Roz? He called her Roz? What the fuck? Alex wondered if strangulation or a baseball bat would be the best way to get rid of his buddy. The guy was moving in on the one woman on this island Alex wanted. Cave would just use her and throw her away.
Just like you would, his conscience chided him. That wasn’t true. He’d make sure she had a good time. He always took care of his ladies first. Cave didn’t give a shit about the women he slept with or their pleasure, only his own. He’d earned the nickname Caveman in more ways than one.
Rosalind led Cave to the nonfiction books and returned to Alex. “He’s very nice.”
Alex snorted. “There’s a reason his team nickname is Caveman. Keep that in mind.”
She blinked a few times as if trying to process that information. “You have some suggestions for RoAnn?”
“Yes, I do.” He met her gaze, and once again there was so much there between them, he wanted to either grab her and kiss the hell out of her or turn and run as fast as he could. He did neither and looked away first. He sat down on the couch, and she sat next to him, leaning close so she could see the passages he’d marked and his comments. He turned the book to his first bookmark and began to go through the hockey issues. Every time their legs touched, she jerked hers away as if burned. He was burning himself, and way too hot. The temperature in this place had risen at least twenty degrees since he’d sat down.
Across the room, Cave had slumped down in a chair and laid his head on the small table in front of him. He’d be snoring any minute. Alex grinned with satisfaction.
Rosalind didn’t notice. Her attention was glued to the book in front of them. Once in a while her hand shook, or her voice wavered. She was feeling this heat between them too. Their chemistry was more combustible than putting two reactive chemicals together in a vial.
Shit. He was dying here. He’d gone too long without female companionship and was way overheated.
When they finally finished, he drew a relieved breath, and she quickly scrambled to the other end of the couch, putting distance between them.
He wanted to sleep with her and damned if he could remember why that might be a bad idea. Right now getting her naked seemed like the best idea he’d had in ages. He’d be doing her a favor showing her how good it could be with him. He suspected she’d only been with David, so no comparison to a guy who knew how to please a woman. David could be hot in bed, but Alex preferred to maintain his version of the dickhead’s sexual prowess.
Rosalind was different than any other woman he’d been around, even the rare few he’d had to pursue. His tactics would require slow and careful romancing. She was an old-fashioned, practical type and would appreciate time put into wooing her. He could do that. Though his wooing skills might be a little rusty, he could dust them off and woo her panties right off her hot body. Then he’d rock her world like it’d never been rocked.
Alex would start his campaign tomorrow after some careful planning this evening. Now if he could find a way to deal with Cave, or better yet, send him back to the mainland.
Cave? He’d forgotten about the bastard and glanced around. Cave had woken from his stupor and was talking it up with Clarissa, who must’ve come in while he was busy with Rosalind.
Clarissa’s eyes were bright, and she leaned her body toward him, gazing at Cave as if he were the only man on earth. Alex was momentarily insulted. She’d never looked at him like that. Cave always got his leftovers, not the other way around, yet Clarissa obviously was into his buddy.
Go figure.
Alex shrugged the entire thing off. If Cave wanted to hang with Clarissa, all the better.
~ ~ ~ ~
Rosalind was mortally embarrassed. She’d never write another hockey book again. She’d stick with what she knew. Small towns. Sweet romances. No sex. No strong-willed alpha jocks. She’d been remiss in her research, and her editor wasn’t a hockey fan, either, so was zero help in that department.
“Other than hockey issues, tell your friend I loved the book. I couldn’t put down.”
“You did?” The gray cloud started to lift slightly. He loved the book? He. Loved. The. Book.
“Yeah, I did. The characters sucked me in. By the end of book, they were old friends. The plot kept me turning pages. I never knew what would happen next.”
“She’ll be so happy to hear that.” He’d told her the two things an author lived to hear from her readers, and her heart soared from the depths of despair into the heights of joy.
“And sex scenes were scorching,” Alex said, winking at her.
“Oh, okay.” She ducked her head, hiding her face momentarily.
“Are more books in this series? I would read them, but I did not see any on shelves.”
“Uh, yes, there are six more, but I haven’t put them out in the store yet. Shelf space is valuable.” On the one hand, she was mad at herself for admitting there were more books to Alex; on the other, she had been mortified at her hockey faux pas, and if he’d help her—
“I will buy all six.”
“No, they’re on the house if you’ll check the hockey facts.”
“Deal.” His devastating grin had probably dropped many panties, and hers were itching to be the next ones on his list.
“Clarissa and Jasper are hitting it off.” She changed the subject to something safer in hopes she could distract her brain from panty-dropping sex with the hottest and most inappropriate man she’d ever met.
Alex shrugged. “He is looking for sex. I hope she is fine with that.”
“She’s coming off a bad marriage. I doubt she wants commitment.”
“They are adults, just as we are.” His sexy smile was so dazzling her corneas should have burned to a crisp.
“I’ll get those books for you.” She stood quickly before she crawled off the couch and fell at his feet to worship his muscles.
She hurried away and left him sitting alone but the heat of his stare scorched her back and singed her soul. Alex, a guy who could have any woman, wanted her.
And despite her best efforts to convince herself differently, she wanted him.
~ ~ ~ ~
Alex buried himself in the hockey romances for a day and a half, not emerging until Wednesday evening. Cave had disappeared with Clarissa, and Alex hadn’t paid any attention to his absence. He’d been too engrossed in the books and the things the current hero did to win his woman. Alex had never worked that hard to win over a woman, but Rosalind was special and deserved an extra effort on his part. This was good stuff, and he was taking notes.
For starters, he was going to show up tonight at the book club meeting and wow her with his knowledge of books and the classics. The online schedule showed To Kill a Mockingbird as the discussion book, and he was prepared.
He picked up a bouquet of flowers at the local florist for a table centerpiece. Rosalind would be impressed for sure. He’d have rather given them directly to her, but this way was better for now, more subtle and not so in your face.
Alex was late, as usual. Despite his best intentions to show up on time, his agent had called with a few advertising offers and took forever going through each one.
When Alex entered the room with the huge bouquet of flowers in hand, some guy was postulating his opinion of a book. He held the book up and kept jabbing at the cover with his index finger to prove his point. The book was not To Kill a Mockingbird. Alex wasn’t familiar with the title, Sadness as a Lifestyle, nor had he ever heard of the author.
The book clubbers were dressed in comfortable, not stylish, clothes, and leaned forward as a gro
up, hanging on this guy’s every word. The man took a breath long enough to notice Alex standing several feet away. The rest turned as one to stare at him.
“Roz,” said a nerdy guy with a bad haircut, “looks like you have a flower delivery.”
Rosalind glanced up and did a double take. She’d been caught snoozing. He’d seen the bored expression on her face and her drooping eyelids.
“Alex, what are—?”
Before she assumed the flowers were meant for her, he rushed forward. “As the newest member of the book club, I wanted to contribute something uplifting—looks like you will need it with that title. I thought these flowers would look nice on table.” He hurried forward to place the flowers and tripped over another guy’s outstretched legs. He managed to catch himself by grabbing the back of the couch, but the flowers didn’t fare as well. They flew in all directions, spattering water and petals on the attendees.
Roz’s mouth dropped open in horror. One woman shrieked. Another shot to her feet. Still more people dabbed at the water with whatever they could find.
“I am so sorry.” Alex wished for a hole to open in the floor and swallow him whole. His face was so hot, his ears had to be two flaming beacons on either side of his head. They could mount him on a lighthouse in the worst of storms, and his ears alone would guide ships to safety. He’d been hoping to make an impression on Rosalind, and he’d made one. A big, screwed-up one. He grabbed some of the paper towels one of the people had produced from God knew where and began wiping up some of the mess. “I am sorry. So sorry. So sorry,” he kept muttering, sounding like a pathetic loser. Right now he felt like one. His infamous ways with women deserted him when he was around Rosalind and reduced him to a stuttering schoolboy.
Roz rushed forward to gather up the flowers, while Alex continued to sop up the mess. Several minutes later, everything was cleaned up, though the flowers had suffered the brunt of the damage. They reminded him of the daisies he’d bought for his condo’s deck and forgotten to water.
Deflected: Game On in Seattle (Seattle Sockeyes Book 9) Page 9
