by Skye Jordan
She rested her chin in her hand and grinned while her belly did somersaults and triple flips.
He pushed off the jukebox and started toward her, dodging other people in the bar with an expression of excitement and determination. Eden stood to meet him, but when he stopped short a few feet away, and scanned her from the top of her head all the way to her toes, a fresh surge of self-consciousness prickled along her limbs.
This was an outfit she wouldn’t have thought twice about wearing a few years ago. An outfit she’d worn to parties and events she’d attended with John in Los Angeles. She loved the sweater dress for its soft texture, beautifully stylized pleats, gently flared short skirt, and the way it showed all her curves without clinging like Lycra. Her black suede boots had three-inch heels, rose above her knees, and were adorned with rhinestones.
She used to feel pretty and sparkly and comfortable in this outfit. But now, she wasn’t sure it worked—in this city, in this bar, for this guy, or even for the woman she’d become. And the way Beckett was looking at her—like he’d been hit with a puck between the eyes—she was pretty sure her original feeling of going overboard was accurate.
Before Beckett spoke, a young man approached with two drinks. “Bro, you left your drink at the bar.” He pushed one into Beckett’s hand. “That tonic water’s expensive, and the lime? That shit’s like gold.” Then he turned his smile on Eden and offered his newly freed hand. “I’m Tate Donovan. We met briefly when you were wheeling Beck to the ambulance and he was acting like an ass—”
“She doesn’t need any reminders,” Beckett cut in, his gaze sharp on his teammate.
“Beckett’s right,” she said, teasing him with a grin before refocusing on Tate. “I do remember. Good to see you.”
“You too. And, wow, you look amazing. Way too hot for this guy.” He gestured toward Beckett. “Would you like to join—”
“Donovan,” was all Beckett had to say.
“All right, then. Well, if this guy turns back into an ass, you know where to find the good guys.”
As he walked away, Beckett glanced over his shoulder and groaned. Eden pulled her attention off his delicious body and the way he filled out that suit to follow Beckett’s gaze. She found all the other guys watching from the bar, their expressions filled with joviality and an edge of mischief.
“I didn’t think this out very well when I suggested we meet here,” Beckett said, returning an embarrassed look to her. “The guys are great, but sometimes they’re like—”
“Bratty little brothers who put bugs in your shoes, then make fun of you when you freak out over them?”
He laughed, and the man’s smile made her stomach float. “Sounds like you’ve experienced this.”
“From several bratty coworkers who are about as well-behaved as your teammates when we’re out together socially.”
Beckett set his drink down on her table. “Then you probably wouldn’t be surprised to know how mercilessly they’ve been razzing me about screwing up with you that night you took me to the ER.”
Eden’s nerves ratcheted higher. They were going to eat her alive if she didn’t act. A little voice inside her head started a chant, and it got louder and louder. Live, Eden. So she did what she’d learned to do two years ago when fear threatened to immobilize her—she forced herself to push through.
“Well, let’s solve that problem right now.” She took two steps toward him. Until his heat circled her. Until his scent—something clean and spicy—filled her head.
Live, Eden.
She slipped one hand under his blazer and around his waist. He was warm and hard, and desire flooded in.
Live, Eden.
She met his surprised eyes, skimmed her other hand against his rough cheek, and combed her fingers into his hair.
Live, Eden.
And pulled his head down for their first kiss. Her first kiss in two long years.
6
She took Beckett so off guard, he didn’t even close his eyes as she kissed him. He was shocked into stupefaction and froze, as if he’d forgotten what to do with a woman.
The moment seemed to pass in slow motion. Her long lashes lowered as her gaze focused on his mouth, and when her lips touched his, her breath whispered out and her lids closed.
It was the feel of her sweet body softening, her belly, her hips, her thighs all rubbing against his, that finally made Beckett’s eyes fall closed. His heart kicked into a sprint. His hands lifted automatically, but he wasn’t sure where to lay them. Did he wrap his arms around her? Should he rest his hands on her arms?
Shit, he had forgotten what to do with a woman. If this were a normal hookup, he’d know exactly what to do. But he wasn’t particularly interested in just a hookup, yet he couldn’t give any more of himself with the demands of his career and Lily and the custody issue…
While he’d been lost in all that indecision, he’d missed the kiss. Eden pulled back. Air drifted over his lips, and disappointment clouded his chest.
But she retreated only far enough to shoot a sassy little smile up at him. “To make this convincing, you should probably participate.”
God, he was a dumb shit. He’d jumped way the hell ahead of the situation. But he cut himself some slack. It had been a solid four or five months since he’d had sex. Hell, maybe six. He couldn’t even remember the last woman he’d been involved with who hadn’t been a puck bunny. Even the French bicoastal model-slash-actress he’d been seeing steadily before he’d taken custody of Lily had been a fan first, a lover second.
He huffed a laugh and laid his hands on her shoulders, then let his forehead rest against hers. “You blindsided me there. I turned fifteen again for a few seconds, the prettiest girl in school took me under the bleachers, and I didn’t know what the hell to do.”
She laughed. A light, quiet, little giggle that utterly charmed him. And the urge to really kiss her overwhelmed him.
He stroked his hands down her arms, then back up, tempted by the sweater’s softness, tantalized by her warmth beneath. Then he cupped her face with both hands. “Let’s try that again.”
Her hand tightened in his shirt. The spark in her eyes turned hot. And Beckett held her gaze until their lips touched again. Then he let his eyes close and explored her lips with his. Soft, supple, warm, responsive. In less than ten seconds, he was licking her lips, silently asking her to open. And when she let him in, Beckett’s brain did a little spin.
Their tongues touched, stroked. Warm, wet, soft. And his cock stiffened to attention. She tasted like lemon and sugar and vodka. A delicious kind of hunger bloomed inside him. The kind he hadn’t felt in a really, really long time. The kind that encompassed more than his cock.
He let one hand slide into the silky soft strands of her hair. Opening wider, tasting deeper, he let the other roam over her shoulder and down her slim back, then wrapped his arm low on her hips. Circling his tongue with hers, he pulled her in, letting her feel what she was doing to him. Her quick, soft intake of air felt like lightning through his body.
She pulled back a little, just enough to break the kiss. But she held on tight and looked at him with a dazed kind of hunger that gripped Beckett by the groin and wouldn’t let go. “Aren’t you one surprise after another?”
He licked her taste from his lips. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Her gaze drifted past his shoulder. “Looks like one of your problems is solved.”
Still holding her, he glanced that direction. All the guys had turned back toward the bar and refocused on their own conversations. He returned his gaze to her with a grin. “I owe you.”
A sexy smile brightened her face. “I plan to collect.”
“God, I hope so.”
He stroked both hands over her back from shoulders to hips. She was trim and tight, with subtle curves that tempted, and his mind darted toward all kinds of naughty, beautiful, sexy things he hoped they had to look forward to tonight.
“About dessert,” he murmure
d. “Are you still off the menu? ’Cause I’ve got a craving that won’t quit.”
Eden’s gaze turned thoughtful. Her gaze lowered. While one arm remained curved around his waist, the other slid down the front of his dress shirt, where she slipped her fingers beneath his tie and toyed with the buttons. Her tongue stroked her lower lip, leaving it shiny and making Beckett so damn hungry.
“My body wants to jump. Wants to trash all caution and good sense and run with whatever you’ve got in mind.”
The hesitation in her voice dampened his edge of excitement. “But…?”
She lifted her gaze to his, and something new floated there. Something…nervous. She smiled, but that too was the slightest bit shaky. “Let’s start with chocolate, and see how that goes.”
This wasn’t the reception he’d expected. Not the reception he was used to. He might be turning the puck bunnies down to go home to Lily now, but that didn’t mean nights out at local haunts weren’t usually filled with a lot more of what the two women who’d hit on him earlier had offered—a little two-on-one action, no small talk, no foreplay, no follow-up required.
But Eden wasn’t a puck bunny, which was why he was standing here with her when he’d turned the other women down. Lily’s presence in Beckett’s life had changed more than his knowledge base about things like educational toys and girl clothes. Lily had changed almost everything, including how he related to everyone in his life—especially how he treated women. And at some point over the last year, Beckett had—unfortunately for his sex life—outgrown puck bunnies.
He smiled at Eden now and gave her waist a reassuring squeeze. “At least one of us has their head on straight.”
A waitress skimmed past them and set down the chocolaty dessert, then glanced at Beckett. “Hey, Beck. You were on fire tonight.”
“Thanks. How are you doin’, Toni?”
“Can’t complain. Can I get you two anything else?”
“I’m good,” Beckett said, then looked at Eden. “Eden? Another drink?”
“Oh no. I’m half a drink over my one-drink limit. Water would be great, though.” When the waitress disappeared behind the swinging door into the kitchen, Eden looked at Beckett. “You do come here a lot.”
“Used to come after every home game. Now I stop by once in a while.” He glanced at the table where Eden had been sitting and picked up the martini glass, half-filled. He sniffed the drink. The sugary lemon scent made him grin at her. “I thought you tasted kinda like a Lemonhead.”
She gave him a silly frown. “Lemonhead?”
“The candy.”
“Oh wow.” She laughed. “Haven’t thought of those in a long time.”
“But way sweeter.”
“And spiked.”
“Amen. You certainly make my head spin.” He set the drink down and picked up the cash.
“No.” She covered his hand with hers. “That’s for the—”
“Tonight’s on me.” He curved his free arm around her waist and eased her against him. Man, she felt great, all warm and curvy. She smelled good too, a soft floral fragrance that filled his groin with blood. His gaze slid over her pretty face and rested on her plump lips. “Showing up is your only required contribution.”
When he pressed the bills into her hand, appreciation shone in her eyes. “Thank you.”
He lowered his head for a feathery kiss. “Thank you. Seeing you again is the highlight of my night.”
That made her smile deepen. Damn, she had a beautiful smile. This woman was racking up points.
But he forced himself to pull his gaze away and glanced down at his second choice of desserts tonight with a contemplative “I think I might be able to swim in that.”
Eden laughed. “They said it served two.”
“Two hungry hockey players, maybe.” This small table wasn’t going to work for the cozy chat Beckett had in mind. An open corner booth caught his eye, and he picked up the dessert plate in one hand and slipped his other arm around Eden’s waist. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”
At the booth, he set the plate down and ushered Eden onto the padded seat. Toni came by with the drink Beckett had left at the table and Eden’s fresh water. He pulled his wallet and offered her his credit card. “Can you put this together with her earlier drinks? And those idiots are all mine tonight.”
She shot him a knowing smile, took the card, and smacked his arm. “You deserved MVP tonight.”
Beckett was returning his wallet to his pocket when Eden said, “Why are you picking up their drinks?”
“It’s tradition. In the locker room, after every win, the MVP from the prior win passes on the ceremonial hat—in our case, that’s an ugly leather tricorne, à la Rough Riders from the 1800s—to whoever that person deems the MVP for that night’s game. Tonight it was me. Since we were going out after, I’m also buying.”
“That’s pretty cool. Why were you MVP tonight?”
“Record hits in one game.”
Her chin tilted up, and she offered a less than impressed “Ah.”
Before he’d given it much thought, he said, “I’m going to warn the guys that if they bother us, they’ll regret it at practice.”
She nodded and grinned, but it was an obligatory kind of smile, and a shadow flitted through her eyes. It lasted only a millisecond, but he’d seen it.
Beckett turned toward the bar, with odd connections firing in his brain, trying to pin down these strange mixed messages he was getting from her. His body was telling him one thing, his brain another, and his gut still another.
While he’d spent decades developing his hockey skills, his true successes lay largely in his finesse. Reading cues, studying human behavior, and understanding habits were as important to him on the ice as knowing how to control the puck. He’d only realized how valuable those skills could also be off the ice in the last few years.
He’d gotten so good at figuring out what women were looking for within a few minutes of conversation, a lot of the guys asked him to screen women before they invested emotional real estate. Women all looked at members of the team differently. Some saw money, some sought fame by association, some simply wanted a good time, quite a few were downright crazy-ass bitches, and others were big-game hunters, shooting for the rock on their finger. And, yeah, he had to admit, a few of the guys had been lucky enough to find women who were truly in love with them despite the shitty schedules, lousy moods, and perpetual career instability.
But whatever he’d seen in Eden’s eyes, he didn’t recognize.
He stepped up next to Donovan and interrupted his bullshitting with Hendrix. “Hey.”
Donovan glanced at Beckett, then immediately looked behind him. “Did you lose her already? Your moves off the ice suck as bad as mine. You have to think about getting a nanny for Lily. You’re never going to find a mom for her like this.”
The guys all thought that was funny. They thought the way Beckett slapped Donovan upside the back of his head was even funnier. But Beckett wasn’t laughing, and he lowered his voice when he told his friend, “You know not to talk about Lily in public.”
“Oh shit,” Donovan said, glancing around to see if anyone other than the team was sitting nearby. “Sorry, man. I forgot.”
Beckett wasn’t going to be able to keep his daughter a secret forever, but until the custody hearing was over, Beckett wanted to keep Lily out of the press.
“And I’m not looking for a mother for Lily.” His daughter had plenty of wonderful women in her life, Beckett’s mother and sister, chief among them. “But I am looking for some quality time with this very hot woman, so don’t even think about bugging us. I already gave my card to Toni. Try not to max my limit, would you?”
“Got it,” Savage said.
“Don’t blow it,” Hendrix added. “You need some good pussy to keep you fresh for this out-of-town run.”
“But not so much that you forget I’m picking you up for the flight tomorrow,” Donovan finished.
Beckett rolled his eyes. “If I leave here before you, would one of you grab my credit card, please?”
They made a bunch of jokes about what they planned to do with his card on their trek home—things that included strip joints, drug dealers, and hookers—for which he called them a bunch of dumb fucks and returned to Eden with a chorus of fresh laughter following him.
She had her elbow on the table and her head resting on her hand. Her other hand twirled a fork in the cake. And when she looked up and saw him coming, she brought the fork to her mouth and licked chocolate off the tines in a slow, fluid sexual move. His groin tingled with an influx of heat, and his head filled with Hendrix’s “You need some good pussy.”
Crude but accurate. His newly acquired single-father status wasn’t the only element in his life that had interfered with sex. The truth was, casual sex held a lot of risk for an athlete at Beckett’s level. Lily and the complications surrounding her custody were proof of those risks. But there were others too—allegations of abuse, defamation of character, lawsuits. So, yeah, his sex life sucked. Big-time. But if his cock’s radar was on target, he might have found exactly what he needed in this beautiful Garden of Eden.
He slid into the booth next to her as she lazily filled the fork with decadence. “Are you playing with that? Or eating it?”
“Little of both. What are they laughing about?”
He narrowed his eyes as his thoughts drifted back to the troublemakers that made up his second family. “Drug dealers and hookers haven’t started taking credit cards, have they?”
“What?” She laughed the word.
Beckett grinned and shook his head, dismissing the sideways thought. “Nothing.”
The teasing mood vanished when she lifted the fork to his lips and watched him take the cake into his mouth. By the time he pulled back and licked his lips, his groin was heavy and hot with an infusion of lust. He let the chocolate decadence melt in his mouth. Rich, sweet, moist. His eyes closed on the raw deliciousness of the dessert.
“Mmm.” He swallowed and smiled. “Good call, gorgeous.”
