She looked up from the menu she held in her hands but hadn’t read one word of, as Ethan walked in. Lauren didn’t have to be good at deciphering body language to see how down Ethan was, almost defeated, which went against the grain for what she knew about this man. He slipped into the booth and clutched the menu, not making eye contact.
“You look like you could use a friend,” Lauren said.
He glanced over the top of his menu and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re right about that.” His wry smile said it all. Lauren wanted to wrap her arms around him and absorb his pain as hers.
“After this past month together, I could say we’re friends.”
He nodded, not disputing her statement, which gave her the courage to press on.
“How did the meeting with the big man go?” She spoke casually, as if his answer were of no consequence to her, yet in some ways it was everything.
“Not as planned, I’ll say that much.” Ethan slumped in the booth and signaled for the waitress to order a bottle of wine.
“Does this have anything to do with another group trying to buy the team?”
His head shot up. His eyes narrowed in typical Ethan fashion. “You know about that?”
“My dad’s involved.” There, she’d said it, as simple as that, and laid it out on the table, that thing which had been between them for a few weeks.
“I didn’t know whether or not he’d say anything to you since you’re working closely with the enemy.” Ethan eyed her closely, as if discerning where she stood. How the hell could he know, when she wasn’t even sure?
Lauren smiled. “You’re not the enemy. Both groups want this team. No enemies here.”
“No, just one winner and one loser.” With that statement, he’d hit that puck in the net.
“I know.” Lauren shrugged.
He leaned forward, his chin propped in his hands, his elbows on the table. “Tell me, you’ve been with the team for years. What’s your assessment of this market? Will it sustain this team on a long-term basis? I know the statistical answer to this question, but I want an honest, gut feeling of a fan and employee whose heart bleeds for this organization and believes in it one-hundred percent.”
Lauren hesitated, her first inclination to defend the city and the fans, but honesty and common sense won over loyalty. “I don’t think so, even with the Sleezers out of it.” She spoke quietly, almost a whisper.
“Your dad’s group. Will they be able to afford to keep this team in town on a permanent basis? Do they have that kind of big money backing them? The Giants have been partially financed by the league for quite a while.”
“The better question would be—can your group afford to keep the team here with possible years of financial loss and no plan for a new arena?” She shot the question back to him.
“Can any ownership group if they’re good businessmen?” His face revealed nothing.
“Probably not.” Her heart dived as she said the dreaded words, knowing any infusion of money into this team only put a Band-Aid on a gaping wound.
“So we’re looking at the possibility that ownership might need to move the team regardless of who it is?” His Caribbean blue eyes met and held hers, as if he needed her as a sounding board.
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Ethan?” She pried her gaze away from his and once again flipped through the menu.
“What’s your assessment of your dad’s ownership group?”
She hesitated, but her instincts aligned her with Ethan, as stupid and dangerous as that might be. “They’re great old-school hockey guys.”
“But? I hear a but…”
She didn’t answer.
“Lauren, I need to know what you think.” He snatched the menu from her and grabbed both of her hands, holding them tightly as he leaned forward, his gaze intent on her face. “Tell me, please.”
Lauren stared at her hands in his larger ones and cleared her throat. “This team isn’t going to win it all with old school hockey. We don’t have the traditional player types so we need to do it with more inventive means, more mixing up the lines, choosing and keeping players with valuable skills you can’t measure with normal statistics. Last year we let a young guy go because he didn’t have the big-time stats, but he did things to get the puck in the right place, stuff my statistical analysis measures, but their old school stuff does not. His absence hurt us this year, big time.”
“I bet you wanted them to keep him?”
Lauren nodded. “But they wouldn’t listen.”
“They don’t listen to you much, do they?”
Suddenly, Lauren choked up, and she hated it. She shook her head, unable to speak without blubbering. Silently she cursed this female weakness, which reared its ugly head at the most inopportune times.
“Lauren.” His voice turned gentle and her body turned to jelly. He slipped out of his side of the booth and slid in next to her, put his arm around her, and tucked her to his side. His comfort felt as natural as breathing. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder, even as her body was racked with sobs of frustration she’d held in for so long. He wrapped her in his strong, calm presence, almost making her believe he could keep the wolves at bay from sheer force of will. Max used to make her feel like that in the early days, like she was the most important thing on earth and together they could do anything. She’d fallen for his attentiveness and consideration of her, as if she mattered because she’d never mattered before, except maybe to Aunt Jo. But Max’s caring gestures had been an illusion carefully crafted to keep her clueless. And clueless she’d been until checks started bouncing, bills piled up, and her once-loving husband left her for a puck bunny barely eighteen years old.
And she trusted Ethan why? It wasn’t like she was a good judge of character or anything.
Ethan stroked her hair, and she wanted to fall back into denial. “It’s okay, honey. It is. I know it’s tough but don’t give up. Don’t let them win. I know what it’s like to be discounted and treated like you don’t know shit.”
Something he said struck a chord in her; hell, it played the entire piano. Wiping her eyes she looked up at him. “I did that to you, didn’t I? I kept telling you that you weren’t a hockey guy. I blew off your opinions just like they do to me.”
“It’s all right. I understand. Truly, I do.” He smiled and shrugged, not holding it against her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t realize I’d done to you what they do to me.”
“Even your dad?”
“Especially my dad. He barely knows I exist. I have two brothers in the NHL, one older, one younger.”
“I know.” His mouth twitched in a smile.
“I’m sorry. Of course, you know. He’ll call them and discuss a player even though they’re on competing teams before he’ll consider talking to me.”
Ethan frowned and for a moment his eyes got hard, but they softened just as quickly, and he sighed. “I’m sure my sister would say that our dad doesn’t consider her opinions as strongly as he does his sons’. He’s not a bad person, and he tries, but it’s hard when you’ve been raised in a culture that values men in business or in sports.”
Lauren rubbed her eyes, grateful she never wore enough makeup to smudge it. “I cut him some slack because he does try. Sometimes. He means well.”
“We’re all doing the best we can with the knowledge and limitations we have at the time, Lauren. Just remember that.”
She nodded and sniffed. He kept his arm around her, and she didn’t pull away. She liked it too much, liked the feel of his warm, hard body next to hers, liked the scent of that spicy aftershave, and wanted this man in ways she’d never imagined, doing things she’d never imagined with anyone else. Not even Max.
They ate dinner and made small talk, drinking a bottle of wine in the process.
“So Ethan, I’ve been honest with you. Now it’s your turn.” Lauren pushed her plate away, ready to ask the tough questions.
> He visibly stiffened, his smile brittle and his gaze wary. “Okay.”
“Do you have a future with this team or are you gone once your job here is done?”
He didn’t answer at first. Instead he swirled the wine around in his glass as if it were more fascinating than the third quarter in the Cup with a tied score. “Yeah, I have a place if I want it.”
“Do you? Want it that is?” She watched him closely, looking for something, though not sure what, but she’d know when she found it.
“Yeah, I think I do. I’ll be in a management role.” He turned to her, his eyes glinting with determination. “I want you there with me, Lauren.”
She pointed at herself, humbled, honored, and a little taken aback. “You do?”
“I do. I want you doing what you’re good at, evaluating each player’s strengths and weaknesses. Figuring out how to maximize their strengths. Running those incredible stats of yours and analyzing them to give our GM an advantage over other organizations.”
“Ike would never go for that stuff. He thinks it’s bullshit.”
When Ethan didn’t answer, the cold hand of dread wrapped its bony fingers around her heart and squeezed.
“Is Ike being fired, Ethan?”
“No one’s going to be fired. They’ll all get a fair shot. That I can promise you.”
“Even my dad who’s been lobbying for different ownership?” How ironic would that be to have a job over her father? The thought gave her no satisfaction.
He nodded. “Even your dad. He doesn’t know my potential ownership group so why should he feel loyal and why would I hold that against him?”
“You have a point. You’re a fair man, Ethan Williams.”
Instead of being flattered, he cringed. “I try to be when the situation allows it.”
Lauren tilted her head and eyed him, not sure what his statement meant exactly. “I think it’s time I should be going.”
“I didn’t see your car out there.”
“I walked to work this morning and then walked here from the arena.”
Ethan stood and held out a hand. “Let me give you a lift home. This isn’t the best of neighborhoods, and it’ll be dark in an hour or so.”
Lauren nodded, not even attempting to win that argument and secretly not wanting to win it. She was tired of fighting this attraction, tired of denying their attraction, just damn tired of not getting what she really wanted.
And she wanted Ethan in the worst possible way.
* * * *
Ethan put the key in the ignition and drove Lauren home to a modest apartment building. It appeared well-maintained with four units on each of two floors, in a decent neighborhood surrounded by tidy little single-family homes.
She turned in the seat to him, her beautiful eyes more brown than green, which seemed to happen when she was concerned. “Ethan, you never told me what happened with the commissioner that had you looking like your mama ran off with a twenty-something pool boy.”
Ethan chuckled. “Trust me, my mother would never do that.”
“All the more devastating if it happened since you seem to think it wouldn’t.”
“Lauren, I truly appreciate your concern, but I have to work this out myself.” He grabbed her hands and held them, something he’d done way too much tonight, but he couldn’t help it. He loved the feeling of her soft hands in his. Ethan leaned closer, and she did too, neither of them saying a word, because words might slap some sense into them.
God, he was going to regret this, and he’d chastise himself for once again being too weak to resist, but damn it all to hell, he was fucking tired of telling himself no, not when she looked at him with intense hazel eyes, now more green than brown, this incredible green which reminded him of the sun filtered through the trees in a forest.
“Lauren,” he rasped as he framed her expressive face in his hands and drowned in those incredible eyes of hers.
“Ethan,” she whispered in response.
Oh, shit, she wasn’t going to stop him. His erection pushed against his fly. It sure as hell wouldn’t be stopping him. And his head appeared to have ordered takeout, while it settled in for the show. No help there either.
He brushed her lips with his, taking a taste, and circling back around to taste more deeply with his lips and tongue. She melted against him, despite the fact that the console separated their lower bodies—good thing, really.
He explored, pillaged, plundered, and savored all at the same time, feasting like a starving man on all she offered. Her moans of pleasure against his mouth wiped out what little brain function remained, and his primal instincts kicked in. He buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer across the console.
She felt good, like all of life’s great memories rolled into one incredible kiss. She tasted even better, and he couldn’t get enough. Neither could she. Her tongue danced with his, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, panting, squirming, and begging for more.
Damn, but he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her everything.
Ethan slid his hand under her blouse, and she trembled as his warm palms contacted her bare skin. His hands shook slightly. He dragged his mouth from hers and kissed his way across her cheek.
“You are so incredible,” he whispered against her cheek. “So fucking incredible.”
“So are you.” Her breathless voice slipped past all his carefully constructed defenses, leaving him dazed by the sheer power of the emotions careening inside him.
“Sweetheart, you taste and feel like nothing I’ve ever imagined.”
She nipped at his earlobe and moaned as he rubbed his thumb across one nipple through the fabric of her bra. “You’re making it hard for me to behave.”
“Then don’t.” He pushed her shirt upward, needing to see more of her.
A motorcycle started up very close by and drowned out the sounds of their heavy panting and murmured words of encouragement.
“Fuck.” Ethan muttered as he glanced around for the location of the bike, a Harley by the sounds of it.
“Shit.” Lauren scrambled back to the passenger seat and smoothed back her hair, regarding Ethan with wary, ashamed eyes.
Ethan was the one who should be ashamed, especially considering the position of power he was in over her, or would be in the near future. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. He’d lied so many times to her. He couldn’t lie about this. He wasn’t sorry. Not one damn bit, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. The only thing he felt sorry about was her obvious regret.
“I need to go in. We fly out in the morning. It’s a big day for the team.” Lauren opened the door and bolted for her apartment. But Ethan leapt out and caught up with her in several long strides.
He grabbed her hand before she could escape. “Don’t regret what happened, Lauren. Please, don’t regret it.”
“It was a mistake.” She stared up at him through lowered lashes.
“A mistake between two people who have an undeniable attraction to each other? I don’t see that as a mistake.” Who was he kidding? Of course, it was a mistake, and she didn’t know the entire story. The truth of it hit him squarely between the eyes. He’d do it again given half the chance.
She stared him directly in the eyes. “I do.”
He framed her face in his hands. “Well, you shouldn’t. Nothing that feels this good could ever be a mistake.” Ethan dipped his head and took her mouth once again, her plump lips already swollen from his earlier kisses. She stiffened, and he half-expected her to jerk away, but she didn’t. Instead her arms twined around his neck, and she leaned into him, her body pressed against his length. He cupped her sweet ass in his hands and lifted her upward, dragging her crotch across his dick. He groaned at the torture of it all, hating the clothes that separated them, and knowing if those clothes didn’t exist, he’d lift her butt onto the porch railing and plunge deep into the greatest heaven known to man, especially this man with this woman.
Clothes be damned, he
sat her fine ass on the rail and humped her with all the finesse of an animal in heat. Her skirt hiked up her thighs, and she wrapped her mostly bare legs around his waist and ground her crotch into his. Her whimpers sent him over the edge and his kisses roughened again, demanding and promising at the same time. Her mouth spoke of undeniable lust, explosive chemistry, and ragged desire without uttering a word.
He slid his hands up her blouse and cupped her rounded breasts, not too large, not too small, just perfect. He felt her hardened nipples through a lacy bra. Dragging his mouth from her lips, he rained little kisses down her neck and nibbled on her collarbone.
“I want to get naked with you, Lauren.”
“Just get naked. That’s it?”
“Oh, no, that’s the appetizer. I want the whole five-course meal.”
She leaned away from him, blinking a few times then smiled. “I bet you say that to all the women.”
“I bet I don’t.”
Lauren wrapped her fingers around his collar and stared up at him. She chewed on her lower lip, looking as if she were considering his proposition. Finally she rested her forehead on his chest and heaved a deep sigh. Ethan heaved one of his own. He knew her answer as sure as he knew she regretted it as much as he did.
Stepping away, Lauren fumbled to turn her key in the lock. Once the door was open, she turned to him. “Good night, Ethan.”
“Good night, Lauren,” he said as the door shut in his face. He stared at it for a long time, willing her to come back outside and invite him in. She didn’t. Instead the outside light flicked off and cloaked him in darkness.
With a frustrated sigh, he trudged back to the car. Bad idea to try to sleep with her, to even tell her that he wanted it. He couldn’t, not once, not even so he could carry the memory of that moment around with him for the rest of his life.
He had a week at the least and a month and a half at the most before the news got out, assuming the deal didn’t fall through. This was about business, about the goal within his reach, not about fucking with a staff person and in turn fucking this up.
Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) Page 10
