Disappointment filled Emma’s chest, but she forced a smile. Great. Now she’d have to see the centerpiece at her sister’s house. Each one was designed by the local artist exclusively for the event, so any hope of getting one for herself was nonexistent. She was happy her sister finally won, but it would be easier if the beautiful, hauntingly symbolic statuette that had her emotions raging were in someone else’s home for the holidays.
They are just statues.
“Congrats, Jess.”
Her sister reached forward to collect her prize, carefully picking up the wooden statuette and accepting the congratulations of the other ladies around the table. Then, sitting back down, she placed it in the oversized gift bag the organizers had provided and handed it to her.
Emma’s mouth gaped.
“For coming with me today,” Jess said, touching her hand.
“Oh no…You won it…” Her protests were half-hearted.
“I want you to have it.” She collected her purse and coat and stood. “Now, let’s get out of here and go get that winter coat for me and that stunning dress for you…so you can wear it for a man I totally think it’s wasted on.”
* * *
Not being able to pick Emma up for their first real date wasn’t exactly getting the evening off to a fantastic start, but unfortunately Asher was in Denver already, getting briefed by the ceremony committee about tonight’s events. Sixteen players were being honored that evening, and Ben’s award was the last one.
So much for calling it an early evening to be alone with Emma. She would be driving into Denver later that day, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
Though he was admittedly nervous as shit.
Since suggesting that they try a real relationship, he had only seen her at his daily hour-long therapy sessions, not wanting them to end up in bed together. Now that they were going to try dating, he figured they should cool it in the sheets. Though how he was justifying that idea to himself he didn’t know.
He paced the back of the event hall, his speech in his hand. He’d written it in the car, on the way, while Jackson drove and his mother and Abby insisted on putting in their two cents on what he should say. No matter how many times he read it, it still sounded lame.
Not an easy task.
“Hey, Ash…you ready?” Juliette asked, coming up behind him. Wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard, she looked organized and in control, as always. “We’re going to quickly run through the order of things to make sure everything goes smoothly at the ceremony.”
“Yeah, I’m good to go.” The speech would have to do. There was no time to write anything new, and he’d captured what he’d wanted to say, anyway. Following Jackson’s advice, he was only thinking of Ben as a brother that evening. One he really was proud of.
He followed Juliette inside the hotel ballroom, and his heart rate increased at the sight of the setup. The three-thousand-square-foot space was decorated in black and silver with white rose centerpieces and thousands of white lights draped from the ceiling. A stage was set up in the front of the room, a big projection screen to play game highlights behind it. Several wine and dessert bars were ready to serve the VIP attendees, and soon Emma would be there. As his date. In a few hours he’d be standing up on the stage presenting his brother with an award, and that was the thing about the evening he was suddenly the least nervous about.
Chapter 11
Emma took a deep breath and stole a glance at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel foyer as she abandoned her winter coat—a borrowed formal coat of Jess’s—at the coat check.
Oh God, what had she been thinking with the elaborate gown? Sure, the event was formal, but her go-to sensible stylish black pant suit blinged up with a pair of heels and jewelry would have sufficed.
The glimmering emerald fabric clung to every curve of her body, except where it flared slightly at the bottom, making it possible to walk. She was relieved that Asher hadn’t picked her up, because if he’d laughed or made any sort of discouraging face when he’d seen her, she’d have changed into the practical, fade-into-the-background outfit she was famous for.
This night she didn’t want to fade. She wanted to shine. For one man only. She hoped the slight sparkle dancing throughout the shimmering fabric might be enough to open his eyes a little. The jealousy he’d displayed at her sister’s dinner party was definitely a start, and his wanting to take her on a real date had given her something to grasp onto.
As she approached the ballroom doors, her four-inch heels clicking against the tiles drowned out her thundering heartbeat. She opened her clutch and retrieved her driver’s license. Ash had added her name to the guest list, but she still felt uncertain about arriving without him. “Hi, I’m Emma Callaway, a guest of Asher Westmore’s,” she told the woman holding a clipboard and wearing a headset, standing between two event security guards. She offered them a weak smile, but neither cracked the slightest of grins as they continued to stare straight ahead, the big, bulky bodies making sure no one crashed the party inside the ballroom.
The woman continued to flip through her will-call stack and frowned. “I’m not seeing your name here…Another name, perhaps?”
She only had one. “No. It should be under Emma Callaway.” Her face turned a shade pinker as several other people lined up behind her. Great. She was going to be the crazy woman who thought she was Asher Westmore’s date for the evening. The security guards looked ready to bounce her. “I’ll have to text him,” she muttered. Which meant she’d have to walk back across the hotel lobby to the coat check. The clutch hadn’t been big enough to store her iPhone, and against her better judgment, she’d abandoned the strapless padded bra at the last minute and gone braless, so there had been nowhere else to put the phone.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I can’t let anyone in unless their name is on the list.”
“I understand. Excuse me,” Emma said, turning and moving past the next couple in line.
“Emma, wait,” she heard behind her and turned gratefully.
“She’s with me,” Asher said, appearing at the door. But when his gaze took her in, his jaw dropped. “I think,” he muttered, not taking his eyes from her as he handed the woman with the clipboard her ticket from inside his suit jacket.
Her cheeks flamed, and she couldn’t decide if his open-mouthed stare was a good thing or a bad thing. Heat crept across her bare chest and shoulders, and her mouth was dry as she stepped closer to the door, praying she didn’t wipe out on the heels.
His eyes still glued to hers, Ash moved toward her. Taking her arm, he led her inside.
Pulling her to a private corner of the ballroom, he held her at arms’ length and shook his head. “Wow. What…where…Wow.”
She smiled. “Thank you,” she said, feeling her confidence returning. “You look pretty wow yourself.”
Dressed in a dark charcoal suit that stretched across his chest and shoulders, a dark green dress shirt, and black tie, it looked like they’d coordinated their outfits. His hair was combed to one side and gelled back away from his face, and he’d shaved. She couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have at least a little scruff, and while she loved his facial hair, he looked absolutely gorgeous clean-shaven. The smell of his soft yet manly cologne filled her senses as he pulled her closer, and she wished they were completely alone that evening, instead of surrounded by a bunch of NHL bigwigs and their families.
His resolution to not see her outside his therapy appointments had been frustrating, to say the least. Touching him during the sessions, watching the reaction her touch had on him, and thinking about the amazing sex they’d had in that very room only a few weeks before had driven her crazy. But nothing she’d tried had worked—not the sensual way she’d massaged his leg, not the way she’d whispered in his ear—he was adamant about taking a step back and taking things slower. While she appreciated the effort he was making to show her that it was no longer just about sex, she wanted him.
Craved him. Especially when he looked so smoking hot and smelled so wonderful. She snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of being near him. All day she’d been nervous as hell, but here with him now, she felt the tension ease away, replaced with an intense desire to be even closer.
“Do you have a hot date after this or something?” he whispered against her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight.
His warm breath against her exposed neck made her shiver with anticipation and excitement to be there with him. Together. With him. But she shrugged casually. “You never know where the night could lead.” She pressed her body closer, her hands sliding up over his pecs, then higher to encircle his neck.
His gaze dropped lower to the view of her cleavage visible above the fabric of the dress, and his expression was pure longing when his eyes lifted back to hers. “Yes, I do,” he said, reluctantly releasing her, but keeping one arm around her. His hand firm on her waist, as he led the way toward his reserved VIP table at the front near the stage. “Your place. That dress better be easy to slip out of.”
* * *
He couldn’t stop looking at Emma. No matter how hard he stared, he couldn’t quite believe that the amazingly beautiful woman sitting next to him was his jeans-loving, casual best friend…girlfriend? Had they moved into that territory yet? God, as breathtaking as she looked tonight, he suddenly wanted her to be much more than that.
Funny how he could know someone so long, love them, even, and then like lightning a realization could hit. The jealousy he’d experienced the week before combined with the irresistible urge to announce to everyone in the room right now that she was with him, that she was his, was overwhelming.
Seeing her standing outside the ballroom in that dress had nearly knocked him on his ass. The way the fabric clung to her sexy, athletic yet feminine build had him practically drooling, and the way her short blond hair was slicked back made her cheekbones look even more pronounced, and elongated her slim, delicious-looking neck.
He couldn’t wait to mess her up.
Watching her laugh now as the general manager of the Devils flirted with her, his heart pounded in his chest. He’d asked her here to help put him at ease over the speech and Ben and being around his fellow athletes after the injury, the way she normally did, but she was having the complete opposite effect.
His palms were damp, his mouth felt like sandpaper, and a pool of sweat gathered at his lower back beneath his suit jacket. She was gorgeous, she was smart, and she was funny. She was the one person in the world he always knew he could count on and the only one he wanted to be with.
“You didn’t mention your girl was a former Olympic athlete,” Coach Hamilton said next to him.
She hadn’t exactly been his girl until tonight.
Though he knew deep down she’d always been his girl. Man, he’d been so blind…or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to see, hadn’t been ready to acknowledge what she really meant to him. There was no denying it now.
His gaze locked with hers as he nodded. “Yes. She was—is—an amazing snowboarder.”
Across from him, he could hear his GM praising her as well. He’d always known his best friend was universally known and admired for her talent, but he’d never had the privilege of watching her bask in the compliments as she was now.
She was beaming as she talked about her time on the slopes and the opportunity of being in the Olympics. And everyone around the table was taken by her enthusiasm and passion.
“So, I assume you two will be heading to Breckenridge next weekend?” his coach said.
Asher paused. Right. The snowboarding Winter Tour competition was next weekend in Breckenridge. Only a short drive from Glenwood Falls. Could he convince Emma to go? “Yeah, maybe we will,” he said.
Asher sat back and drank his beer as he thought about it. Would she go? Not to compete, but just to watch the competitions. She’d avoided the slopes and attending the events for the last three winters. He hadn’t pushed, knowing it was probably too painful at first to watch, not being able to compete. But it had been four years…
All eyes at the table were on her. She had his coach, GM, and several other players and their dates mesmerized as she spoke.
And Asher’s emotions whirled into an even bigger tornado. She was planning on going to Florida and moving on with her new future. But right now, talking about her past, her real passion was lighting her up like the Christmas lights decorating the room.
Was she as ready to put her past career behind her as she claimed?
The glimmer of excitement in her eyes and her flushed cheeks as she recounted the training leading up to the Olympics made him think otherwise. Breckenridge might be the way to find out.
She glanced his way. “Sorry, I’m talking too much,” she said as she sipped her wine.
He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. No. Now she was finally talking. He leaned closer, torturing himself with the scent of peppermint coming from her bare skin and whispered, “You have a captive audience.”
He was certainly captured.
Chapter 12
Asher paced near the back of the stage, hidden by a red velvet curtain. Onstage they were announcing the award for GM of the Year, and next would be Man of the Year. He could see Ben sitting with Olivia at a table with several of his teammates, but he’d yet to talk to him. His stomach was in knots. They hadn’t really spoken since their argument, and now he had to acknowledge him onstage, in front of everyone who was anyone in the NHL, along with their family, who was waiting until Ben took the stage to appear.
Glancing toward his own table, his gaze fell on Emma, and his heart pounded even more. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. He had so much he wanted to do with her, and removing that sexy-as-hell dress was the beginning…but only the beginning. The urge to move forward with a relationship caught him completely off guard, and he had no idea what that really entailed, but he was excited.
Maybe the injury hadn’t been as untimely as he’d thought. Being unable to play hockey was making him realize that there was more to life than his sport. The last few weeks had put things into perspective a whole hell of a lot quicker than he’d expected. Putting off a life with Emma until he was done with hockey had once been the only thing he could see. Now, things were shining in a different light.
He wanted both. Needed both. He just had no idea how to have both.
“Next, we will be presenting the NHL Man of the Year award, an award that recognizes a player who demonstrates great sportsmanship on the ice and off, contributing and giving back to their community…And we think this year’s recipient embodies the true spirit of this award.” The presenter’s voice broke into his thoughts. “His work with the local children’s hospital and his latest teaming with the burn victims unit at the Denver Burn Institute has made this player’s personal charity contribution exceed any of the athletes in this year’s category. He donates not only his money, but also his time, making appearances throughout the year, offering support and hope, and enriching the lives of others.”
Asher swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Ben was all of those things, if not also an arrogant pain in his ass their entire lives. He sighed as the presenter continued.
“Here tonight, along with his family, is Asher Westmore to present the award to his brother. Ben Westmore, congratulations on being this year’s NHL Man of the Year.”
The crowd was on its feet, and a chorus of applause rang through the ballroom as Asher limped slightly to the podium. “Thank you,” he said, taking the award in one hand and the mic in the other. “Maybe I’ll just keep this one,” he said, gaining some laughs as Ben climbed the steps to the stage.
His gaze met his brother’s and he saw a look of surprise and apprehension flicker across his face.
He grinned and Ben’s shoulders relaxed as he leaned in to hug him. “Congrats, bro.”
“Thanks for being here, man,” Ben whispered then pulled back to mess
up his hair.
Right. Onstage he was being schooled by his bigger, better brother. In front of his family, his teammates, coach, industry bigwigs…and the woman he was in love with.
But for that evening, he was okay with it.
Ben grinned as he accepted the award.
“I want to congratulate my brother on this achievement,” Asher started and the crowd sat. A silence fell over the room and all eyes were on him. The heat of the lights on the stage made him sweat even more as he unfolded his prepared speech with shaky hands.
He saw his mother, Jackson, and Abby now seated in the formerly empty seats at the table near the stage, and his confidence faltered slightly, so he looked at Emma. “Growing up with one of hockey’s greatest heroes wasn’t easy…Hell, it’s still not easy,” he said, glancing down at his feet and taking a steadying breath.
The spotlight was on him, and he was nervous as shit.
Next to him, his brother looked cool, calm, and relaxed. Ben reveled in the attention. Asher didn’t.
But this was his brother’s night. This was about Ben. For no one else would he be standing up there tonight.
“Hockey was like religion in the Westmore house. It was the only thing that we collectively agreed was the one thing that mattered. When Jackson started getting serious about playing, Ben and I quickly realized we couldn’t let him have all the fun. Then the competitive spirit between the three of us came alive. We played, we practiced, we played some more. We pushed one another, and we supported one another.”
His mother winked at him through her tears and again his gaze returned to Emma.
His rock.
He glanced at his paper before continuing. “Ben’s accomplishments throughout his entire career, not just this year, are why he is awarded this honor tonight. His athletic ability is second to none, and his determination to succeed knows no bounds.” He gestured to his leg, and a ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
Maybe This Christmas Page 13
