by Anna Sugden
For a guy who looked like an Irishman and had such an Irish-sounding name, Patrick Mullroney was a real grouse when it came to anything to do with superstition.
“Yeah, yeah.” He wouldn’t let the guys down again. They’d be lifting the Cup next June. He’d make sure of it.
Kenny and Mad Dog sauntered over.
Kenny hitched his thumb at J.B. “The only thing this man works hard at is increasing the notches on his headboard.”
“Hey. I put in my hours at the gym and on the ice,” J.B. protested.
Mad Dog nodded. “You also put in your hours at the bar and on the dance floor. It’s a good job you don’t need much sleep. Must be those farmer genes.”
“They’ve got to be good for something.” J.B. laughed. “Anyway, all work and no play would make Jean-Baptiste a very dull guy.”
“That would be bad.” Kenny slung his duffel over his shoulder. “So, are we going to stand around yakking or get that drink you owe us?”
J.B. shrugged into his jacket and grabbed his own bag. “I’m ready.”
Taylor and Paddy chorused their approval.
The teammates were heading out of the locker room when Mad Dog’s phone rang.
He frowned at the number. “You guys go ahead. I’ve got to take this.”
“I’ll wait with you.” J.B. waved the others on. “Make it quick. I could murder a plate of quesadillas.”
Mad Dog answered. “Hey. How are you?” From his tone, the caller had to be female and someone he liked.
“You’re kidding,” Mad Dog said. “Where are you? Sure, I’m up for that.” He listened then shot J.B. a look. “I’ll ask.” He put his phone against his thigh to muffle their conversation. “That’s Sapphire. She and Bella are at the arena. They’ve been watching the game. Do you want to say hi?”
Bella. Here. Now.
J.B.’s heart beat hard against his ribs. Part of him wanted to rush out to see her. The other part was more circumspect. They’d said everything they’d needed to say in Antigua.
“Come on, man. It’s just hello, not a freaking marriage proposal,” Mad Dog said. “If you’re not up for it, I’ll tell them you’ve got other plans.”
J.B.’s stomach twisted at the thought that he’d miss this chance to see Bella. There was his answer.
“I’m cool with seeing them.”
Mad Dog nodded approvingly and gave Sapphire directions to the lower levels of the arena. “I’ll get security to let you down here. We’ll meet you by the elevator and give you a backstage tour.”
As the two of them sauntered over to the bank of elevators, J.B. said, “I thought you hadn’t spoken to Sapphie since we got back.”
“I never said that. I said I hadn’t met up with her. She’s been traveling a lot. We’ve emailed, texted and had a couple of phone calls.” Mad Dog lifted his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.
J.B. wouldn’t ask if Bella’s name had come up. If she’d asked about him.
The moment the doors opened J.B.’s gaze was drawn to Bella. When she stepped out of the elevator, his pulse raced like he was on a short-handed breakaway.
Man, she looked good. He’d thought she was hot in that polka-dot bikini and those flirty dresses, but she was sizzling in a curve-hugging red sweater and black jeans tucked into tall suede boots that emphasized her legs. Her cheeks had a healthy glow from the cool temperatures of the arena.
Her blue eyes lit up as she saw him. Then the light faded and she gave off the same uptight vibe as the first time he’d seen her.
What was with that? It wasn’t like they hadn’t danced together or kissed. She’d come apart in his arms—not once, but four freaking times—and all he got was a polite smile and a nod hello? Seriously?
He pulled himself up short, disgusted at the direction of his thoughts. He shouldn’t be disappointed—he knew what the rules were. What happened in Antigua...
“Hey,” J.B. said coolly. “Welcome.”
“Hi,” Bella said a little stiffly. “Congratulations on your win.”
“Thanks.”
“Great to be here. Nice goal.” Sapphie stepped forward and hugged J.B. before going over to Mad Dog and planting a kiss on his mouth. “Looking good, hot stuff.”
“Back at you, pretty lady.” His friend grinned and tucked Sapphie’s arm in his. “Are you ready for your exclusive behind-the-scenes tour?”
“Definitely. Especially the locker room. Will we have to shield our delicate eyes from your teammates in various states of undress?” Sapphie asked hopefully. “I know you guys favor those itty-bitty towels and I don’t want to shock Bella.”
Bella blushed but didn’t respond to the teasing.
“There won’t be any naked players.” Taylor shook his head. “There won’t be anyone left in the locker room but the equipment guys and they do their job fully clothed.”
“Spoilsport. I’ll try to contain my disappointment.” Sapphie gave a theatrical sigh. “At least we’ve got actual players as our guides.”
“You should be honored. People pay a fortune for this privilege.”
“Lead on.”
Mad Dog and Sapphie strolled ahead, arm in arm, laughing and talking as if they’d just seen each other on the beach yesterday not three months ago.
J.B. and Bella followed behind, not speaking. They were back to square one. It would have been better if he’d gone to the restaurant and left Taylor behind. Then J.B. could’ve kept his happy memory of Bella, not this strained silence.
He was tempted not to say a word unless she spoke first, but knew that was childish. Instead he played host, pointing out the features of the arena.
Bella seemed genuinely interested. She asked questions and was keen to see everything, including stepping out onto the ice to get a feel for what that was like. She held on to his arm when they walked out to center ice. By the time they headed back through the tunnel, she’d loosened up enough that they could have a normal conversation.
“What did you make of your first game?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I understood what was happening, but it was fast paced and exciting. I think I’m hooked.” Becca smiled. “You played well.”
“Thanks. I did okay.” Jeez. Next he’d be scuffing his toe and blushing. “It was good to get back on the ice and score.”
“Did it erase the bad memory of your last game?”
He was surprised she’d remembered. “That memory won’t ever go away, but I don’t let it rule me. If I did, I’d probably never score again. So I put it behind me and move on.”
“I wish I could do that.”
Before he could ask what she meant, one of the trainers called out, “Hey, Larocque. Got your goal puck here.”
“Thanks.” J.B. caught the biscuit Steve tossed him, then offered it to Bella. “Would you like this?”
Sapphie came up beside them. “You should sign it.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a silver Sharpie.
J.B. scrawled his name on the back of the puck and gave it to Bella. “There you go.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”
“I’d rather you had it, as a souvenir of your first game and the moment hockey seduced you into becoming a fan.”
Her cheeks coloured. “That’s lovely. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
This time the look they shared was definitely heated, if a little hesitant.
Mad Dog broke into the moment. “This is the locker room. Where the magic happens and ordinary guys—”
“Ordinary?” J.B. interjected. “Speak for yourself, bro.”
Taylor rolled his eyes and continued. “—turn into fearsome warriors of the ice.”
“Is this like Superman’s phone booth?” Bella asked.
“I like to think of it more like Batman’s cave,” J.B. replied, enjoying her teasing tone.
“Because Batman had cooler toys.” She nodded her understanding.
Maybe she wasn’t so different from the Bella
he’d known in the Caribbean, after all. Unlike most of the women he knew, she was shy and needed tempting out of her shell. But once she appeared, she was worth the effort. Suddenly, J.B. didn’t want to let her go without knowing he’d see her again.
He caught Bella’s arm and held her back, letting Taylor and Sapphie walk ahead of them into the locker room. “Do you want to get dinner sometime? Nothing fancy, no strings.”
Bella looked startled and paused, considering.
Unreasonably disappointed that she didn’t respond enthusiastically right away, he added, “I won’t be offended if you’d prefer not to.”
“Dinner would be nice. Weekends are better for me now that school has started.”
“Okay, good. How about Saturday night?”
“This Saturday?”
“We don’t play again until Monday, so it’s a good night for me.”
“Uh, yes. I’m free. What time?”
“I could pick you up at seven.”
She bit her lip. “It would be better if I could meet you somewhere.”
For a moment J.B. wondered if his impulsive invitation had been a mistake. Was this all going to be too difficult?
Then she smiled ruefully. “Nothing personal. I don’t like being dependent on anyone else to get home. I spent too many years scared out of my skin by my dad driving after too many drinks.”
Her honesty eased his concern. He liked that there was no artifice with Bella. She was up-front and didn’t play games. “No problem. Where would you like to eat?”
“As long as the food’s not too spicy, I’m good with wherever you choose.”
“There’s a great steak house down by the river in Weehawken.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Bella opened her mouth to say something else, but Sapphie stuck her head out of the locker room.
“Come on, you guys. You’re missing all the fun.”
J.B. and Bella exchanged amused looks and followed her inside.
Not long after, the women went home, and J.B. and Mad Dog headed to the restaurant.
As the steaming platters were delivered to the long table, J.B. looked around at the guys. Over the past few years a number of players had married. The ones he was closest to—Bad Boy, Ike and Tru—had shown him that settling down wasn’t such a bad thing.
But it wasn’t for him. Not yet, anyway. Relationships took work and time and energy. This year would be a tough one, both mentally and physically, so he wanted to focus his efforts on hockey, not anything personal. At least until he’d lifted the Cup again. He drained his beer.
If there was a woman he could have a future with, it would be Bella. It was a shame he’d met her now instead of in a couple of years.
J.B.’s gut churned. He wasn’t prepared to make a commitment, so he should be happy that Bella might get what she wanted with someone else. Just as she’d be happy for him to win the Cup.
At that moment, Lise, the new queen of the puck bunnies, and her entourage entered the private dining room. The three women were carbon copies of one another with their long, sleek, blond hair, figure-hugging Ice Cats T-shirts and skintight blue jeans tucked into spike-heeled boots. They walked around the table, greeting the players.
He and Lise had got together early in his career. There hadn’t been any chemistry between them, so he knew she wouldn’t be looking for a repeat performance tonight, despite his winning goal. But one of the other two was bound to want to end the evening with him.
Sure enough, Lise congratulated him warmly and moved on to Paddy.
Susie, the newest recruit, trailed her hand across his shoulder before leaning down and murmuring in his ear, “Want to give me a private performance of those slick moves?”
Bella was forgotten as J.B. pulled Susie onto his lap. “Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
* * *
“WHAT A SURPRISE to find you at Grey’s, Miss Brandine.”
As if Issy wasn’t intimidated enough by walking through the imposing glass doors of the fancy restaurant J.B. had suggested, she had to bump into the parents of one of her pupils. Worse, it had to be the woman who always made Issy feel inferior.
Refusing to reveal how much Mrs. Allardyce had knocked her already shaky confidence, Issy did what she’d always done and acted as though she belonged. Hoping her voice sounded cool, she said, “Nice to see you. Do you dine here often?”
“We’re regulars. We know the owner, Grey.” The elegant blonde gave Issy’s outfit a critical once-over. “Cute dress. You’re lucky you’re young enough to get away with that style and color.”
Issy resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms down the pencil skirt of her pink wiggle dress at the backhanded compliment. “Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t have thought a Farlingdale teacher would eat at Grey’s.”
Unable to think of a polite way to respond, Issy was relieved to see J.B. rushing up to the restaurant door. “Please excuse me—my friend’s here. Have a lovely evening.”
Mrs. Allardyce nodded sharply. “Enjoy your meal.”
“Sorry I’m late.” J.B. kissed her cheek. “I had to do a PR thing for the Cats and it ran over. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“I only just got here myself.”
The maître d’ greeted J.B. like an old friend and showed them to their table by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Issy noticed J.B. slipped him a pair of tickets before he left. She couldn’t help smiling when the Allardyces were led to the table next to them.
“Who’s the battle-ax giving us the evil eye?” J.B. asked once they’d ordered their drinks.
She explained the connection. “Her daughter’s a sweetheart. A pleasure to teach.”
“I doubt there’s much about the mother that’s a pleasure.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Her husband probably agrees with us.”
Issy bit her lip to hold back a laugh. “He’s a really nice guy. Whenever I meet them, I wonder why they’re together.”
“Probably too expensive to divorce her.” J.B. picked up his menu. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant or you’ll have indigestion before you’ve eaten a bite.”
“That would be a shame when I’ve been looking forward to eating one of Grey’s famous steaks all week.” She’d been concerned that the queasiness she’d been suffering would be a problem, but it had faded over the past few days. Instead she was always ravenous.
“I’m going 18-ounce rib eye, rare, with all the trimmings.” J.B. patted his flat stomach. “I’ve earned it after a bear of a week at practice. Can’t waste away.”
“I couldn’t manage that much meat if I’d had a bear of a month at practice.” Issy laughed and opened her menu. “There’s no fear I’ll waste away.”
“You’re perfectly proportioned as you are.”
Her cheeks warmed. Unsure how to respond, she focused on the menu and stifled a gasp. The prices made her eyes water. The appetizers alone cost more than any meal she’d ever ordered.
Any thoughts of offering to pay half the check vanished.
As if he’d read her mind, J.B. said, “Order whatever you like. I chose the restaurant, so I foot the bill.”
“Thank you. That’s very generous.”
“You’re doing me a favor. I hate to eat alone and you’ve given me the excuse I needed to come here.”
She smiled wryly. “I’m sure there are plenty of women who’d have accompanied you.”
“Yeah.” J.B.’s grin faded. “But they’d expect something in return. Whereas we both know where we stand, so I can enjoy a great meal, in great company, without worrying about hidden agendas.”
“When you put it like that...make mine a filet, medium-rare, with a fully loaded baked potato and some creamed spinach.”
Despite her light retort, guilt tugged at Issy. She’d certainly had an ulterior motive in agreeing to meet J.B. for dinner...
Telling him about the baby in a public place might temper his reaction.
J
.B.’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“I was expecting something a little more...casual,” she admitted. “Which is silly, given Grey’s reputation.”
“We can go somewhere else. But you’ll miss out on one of the best meals you’ll ever eat.”
“I know.”
“Don’t worry about the other diners. They may think they’re special because they’re rich or famous, but they put their pants on one leg at a time.”
Once again he’d read her mind. How was that possible? She couldn’t imagine J.B. feeling awkward; he was so sure of himself. “I suppose so.”
“Trust me, I get it. My first season up from the minors I felt like I didn’t belong. Even though I was already earning more than my parents will probably see in their lifetime, I was still just a farm boy from Nowhere, Canada.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Probably why I overcompensated and was a total jerk.”
“I can’t believe that.” Though from what she’d read on the internet, she knew it was true.
“I promise I’m almost grown-up and mature now.”
“I’m sure you are...most of the time.”
J.B. laughed.
The waiter arrived to refresh their drinks and take their order.
Once he’d gone, J.B. asked, “What have you been up to since Antigua?”
He couldn’t know what a loaded question that was.
Issy dropped a slice of lime into her sparkling water to buy a little time. She had to lay the groundwork over dinner for her big revelation. Starting with how everything had gone wrong. “For the first week, not very much. I was really sick on the flight home. Food poisoning, I think.”
“Man, that sucks.” J.B. frowned. “Was it something you ate at the resort?”
“I think it was a sandwich at the airport.” She forced a light tone. “Once I was better, I did those things I put off during the school year—redecorating my apartment and going home for a visit.”
He winced. “How did that go?”
“The same as always. Nothing changes, except everyone’s a little older.”
“I know that feeling. I went home, too.” He raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “Families—can’t live with them, can’t bury them in the backyard.”
