by Isabo Kelly
“You need a ride?” he asked.
She startled before facing him. “No.” And, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “Thank you.”
“I promise to be on my best behavior.” He put his hand to his heart and grinned because that confused little crease between her brows was beyond adorable. How did she expect him to resist her? If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was putting on an act just to get to him.
But this woman was obviously not a puck bunny.
“You expecting someone?” he asked. “A boyfriend, maybe?”
“Taxi. I live in the city.”
“Tell you what. I’m on my way into Manhattan. I’ll save you the taxi fare.”
“The taxi was only taking me as far as the train station.”
“Oh, I like trains. How about I ride in with you?”
“What? Why? You have a car.” She looked around, as if hunting for the vehicle in question.
“I do. I can get back to it.”
“You don’t make any sense to me.”
He laughed. “Dinner. Tonight. Public place, so you’ll be perfectly safe.” He remembered her comment about being a potential killer and said, “I’ll be safe, too.”
“Are you always like this?”
“Yes. Dinner?”
“I’m meeting Nathalie at eight.”
“Lunch then.” He paused when he remembered it was after two o’clock. He shrugged. “Late lunch.”
She shook her head, but before he could argue his cause more, she said, “If I eat a meal with you, will you leave me alone?”
“Depends on how the meal goes.” He didn’t point out that, because he had yet to get her name, he’d have a lot harder time pestering her if she left without agreeing to lunch.
“If it’s awful and uncomfortable?” she asked.
“I’m rarely uncomfortable.”
“I could have guessed that. But I’m awkward. Which means lunch may be.”
“Can’t wait. I love a challenge. It’s why I play hockey.”
“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”
“I’m not nearly as bad as my brother.”
“There’s another one of you?”
“Oh, it’s worse than that. He’s my twin.”
“Good God.”
Her wide-eyed shock made him want to laugh again. Though he got that reaction a lot when people heard he was a twin.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m the easygoing one. I promise to keep the conversation light.”
“Of course.” She looked around, like she might panic and run.
He resisted the urge to step closer because he didn’t want to spook her, but he desperately wanted to reach out and smooth that crease between her brows.
“You are so damned cute,” he muttered.
“I…” Her mouth hung open for a few beats, before she finally sighed. “One lunch. I am hungry. You pay.”
“Absolutely. What do you eat?”
“Everything.”
“I think I’m in love.”
She snorted, just shy of an outright laugh. He couldn’t wait to make her laugh for real. He had a feeling he’d enjoy that sound.
Before he could make good on that goal, a taxi pulled up to the curb. He opened the door for her and she slid in easily. He took a moment to regret that she wasn’t wearing a skirt, then slipped in beside her, using the excuse of his bulk to sit just a little too close. She smelled wonderful, a little spicy like cinnamon and something hotter. The scent went right to his head. If he weren’t sure she’d balk, he’d lean even closer to tease out all the delicious nuances of her smell.
The train station was a relatively short drive from the PT center, so he didn’t push conversation. He’d have an entire train ride for that.
“This was an excellent idea,” he said as he handed her out of the taxi at the Tarrytown station.
“What idea?”
“Taking the train. I never do this anymore, but the Hudson line has great views of the river.”
She blinked up at him. “I loved the view, too. This was my first time coming this direction.”
“Were do you live?”
“Brooklyn.”
“So trendy of you.”
“I’m subletting from a colleague.”
“Man or woman?”
“Who?”
She preceded him into the station and through to the platform, heading toward the stairs leading up to the walkway over the tracks to the Manhattan-bound side.
“Your colleague,” he said. “Man or woman? Are they still in the city?”
“Why do you care?”
“I want to know if I have competition.”
“In what?”
“For you,” he said, in an exaggeratedly self-evident tone. “What else would I be talking about?”
“I really have no idea. I can’t follow your line of thinking at all.”
“Probably a good thing.” He leaned in close at the top of the stairs down to the platform, putting his arm on the handrail just in front of hers so she had to stop. “I’m trying not to scare you off. And my thoughts are not exactly…innocent right now.”
She narrowed her gaze at him over her shoulder, and his heart picked up speed. Jesus that look went right to his cock.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
“I am not going to fuck you,” she said.
Definitely going to be fun.
“Not this afternoon,” he said. “I promised to be on my best behavior. Though I could be persuaded…” Her eyes narrowed more dangerously this time, and he grinned. “But now is just about getting to know each other.” He risked her wrath and leaned in close enough to set his face right near hers, working not to get distracted by her heat and scent. “You still haven’t even told me your name.”
“You haven’t asked.” She turned and continued down the stairs with a little swish of her hips.
Leaving him grinning, and more than a little turned on.
Chapter Three
Ann flexed her fingers, opening and closing her hands until the tingling and heat dissipated. Letting him get too close had been a mistake. God, he smelled good. Should a hockey player smell so good? Like soap and musk and male, but not cologne or anything too strong. Just deliciously sexy. She’d wanted to put her face against his neck and absorb his scent.
And that had been an incredibly dangerous desire.
She shouldn’t have let his flirtations get to her. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to feel the attraction that was so obviously there. She didn’t want to be charmed or intrigued, and she definitely didn’t want to be excited.
Her irritation didn’t help.
He was too much for her—too much energy, too much enthusiasm. Too male.
So very very male.
Her stomach tightened a little and the heat in her palms increased again. She didn’t dare touch the stairway banister for fear of heating it up—which would be very noticeable to others on the stairs given the chilly October day.
Taking slow, deliberate breaths, she stepped onto the concrete platform and checked the board displaying train times. They had a ten minute wait. Damn. At least if they kept moving, she could mostly ignore him.
But she’d agreed to eat a meal with him. She couldn’t very well ignore him through lunch. Not that he’d let her. Not that ignoring a man of his size and…attractiveness was even possible.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He stood a little too close, hands in his jacket pockets, looking perfectly at ease and maybe a little bit smug. The rebellious part of her—the part she usually kept ruthlessly suppressed—wanted to do something about that smug expression. Knock him off his game. Confuse him as he’d been confusing her.
That wasn’t going to happen. She was having enough trouble keeping her emotions in check around him. She didn’t even need her own coat at the moment because her skin was so warm. Engaging him in anything but casual, meaningless conversation was
out of the question.
Eight o’clock tonight couldn’t come soon enough.
They were on the platform for less than three minutes before a man with a wooly hat displaying some sports team’s logo on it walked up to Brody and extended a hand.
“Great season so far,” the man said. “You guys are looking really good. Great third period in Friday’s game. Love the way you made that asshole eat ice.”
Brody laughed, shaking the man’s hand in a friendly, quick jerk of motion. “Thanks. Gotta protect my teammates.”
“How’s The Wall’s knee?”
“Good now. Wasn’t a serious injury.”
“That’s a relief. I’m really hoping to see you guys holding up that cup again this year.”
“So are we.”
“Looking forward to the Classic, too. Don’t suppose you have any spare tickets?” The man winked.
“Wish I did. Keep checking. We want as much support as we can get.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, man.” Brody clapped the stranger on the back of his shoulder before the man wandered off with a passing glance at Ann.
“Who was that?” she asked when the stranger was far enough away not to overhear.
“No idea. A team supporter. They’re great. They keep us energized. I love when they take the time to say hi.”
“Doesn’t it get a little intrusive?”
“Mostly, no. I’m pretty new to the National League, though. This is only my second year with the Empires. I was in the minors before that. So I’m still enjoying all the attention. Maybe when I get to be an old man like Semenov I’ll start hiding from it all.”
“How old are you?” Nathalie’s boyfriend didn’t look particularly old, though he did seem more reserved than Brody.
“What’s your name?”
Her cheeks heated at the reminder she hadn’t been particularly polite with him so far. Not that he deserved it, the way he threw her so off balance. But still…
“Dr. Ann Bell.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ann Bell. Very melodious name.”
She frowned. “Thank you. I think.”
“Doctor of medicine or philosophy?”
“Ph.D.”
“In?” He waved a hand in a small circle to encourage further explanation.
“Genetics.”
She braced herself, sure he’d make some asinine comment. She was used to that from her family. Why genetics? Did she think she could interfere with God’s creations? How did she think she could possibly understand the inner workings of God’s plan?
She didn’t actually believe in God, at least not the one her fanatical parents espoused—the vengeful and hypocritical one her family professed was the One True God. If God did exist, she wanted to see that deity as a lot kinder than the one she’d grown up with.
Before Brody could disappoint her with some crack about genetics being the work of the devil, though, the deep rumbling approach of the train diverted them. She turned to watch the Metro North whoosh into the station, blowing cold air on her face.
As they boarded, he put a hand on the small of her back, helping her over the gap between train and platform, then guided her to open seats. She thought to dissuade him from the gentlemanly—and very unnecessary—behavior, but the rebellious part of her thrilled at having his hand on her.
Dangerous, that tingling of excitement.
All the way down the narrow aisle, random people high-fived Brody or commented on something to do with his team. He took all the comments and gestures good-naturedly, greeting the attention with a deep laugh and an infectious smile.
How could anyone be that happy all the time? It was contrary to everything she’d experienced in her life. And was so diametrically opposed to how she had to live.
She slid into a seat near a window on the side of the train that would be closest to the river, and Brody settled next to her, once again too close for a perfect stranger and yet somehow not really crowding her. His huge body took up so much room, though, she wondered in passing if he even fit in airplane seats.
Then the train jerked into motion and he leaned closer to look out the window. His nearness set her nerves tingling again. He smelled entirely too good. She could surround herself with his scent and live in it.
She swallowed hard and looked away from the side of his face, trying to ignore the way his nearness made her stomach dance. Their thighs touching didn’t help her ignore him.
“Genetics, huh?” he said as he sat back. “Research?”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Defensive, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was a knee-jerk reaction now, thanks to her family.
“What specifically are you looking at?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“My lab is studying the connection between telomere degradation and mutation rates in relation to age-specific disease progression.”
“Are you working on the cancer tie-ins as well or just studying the mechanisms of telomere degradation and how to prevent it?”
“Our lab is researching the relationship to cancer as well.” She frowned.
“That’s good research. If scientists find a way to prevent telomeres from getting too short, we’d have some good information for helping fight against aging and cancer. What do you think of the whole CRISPR/Cas9 technology? Ethically? Will it lead to designer babies or is it just a great new technique for studying the genome and repairing faulty gene sequences?”
She blinked a few times. “How on earth do you know about CRISPR?”
“I read. A lot.”
“On genetics?” That seemed hugely coincidental.
“On everything. Of the sciences, my particular cake is genetics and cosmology.”
“Why?”
“Aliens,” he said in that matter-of-fact, isn’t-it-obvious way.
“You believe in aliens?” That was worse than her parents.
“Don’t you? I mean, it seems pretty arrogant to assume of all the planets in all the galaxies in a vast universe that we’ve only got the barest understanding of that there’s not some other life somewhere. Even if it doesn’t look anything like what we think of as life. In fact, I’d be more surprised if we didn’t at least find microbes on other planets and moons than if we did.”
Her mouth dropped open a little and she had to snap it shut. Then she leaned back against the window to see him better. “This isn’t the conversation I was expecting from a hockey player.”
“Snob.” But he said it with a grin.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “You’re more enlightened than my family.”
“Tell that to my brother. He thinks I’m a lunatic. Wait, I take that back. I don’t want you to meet him. Not yet. You might like him better than me, and then I’d have to kick his ass.”
She huffed an unexpected half-laugh, then pressed her lips together, surprised by her amusement.
His gaze dipped to her mouth, just long enough for her to feel the look like an actual touch.
“One of these days,” he said, “I’m going to get a full blown laugh out of you. And that will be a glorious day.”
“What if I snort when I laugh?”
“Even better.”
“You’re a very strange man, Mr. Evans.”
“We’re on a date. Call me Brody or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Tough. Brody. Say it.”
“Brody.” She frowned. “We’re on a date already?”
“Of course. What do you think this is?”
“Getting back into town. Then lunch.”
“Which is what we here in New York call a date.”
She scowled at the slight condescension. But since she probably deserved it, she let it pass. “Are you from New York originally?”
“Nope. Northern California. Nevada City. We got out as soon as possible.”
�
��We?”
“Connor, my brother, and I. Nevada City is a great little town, but we’re both more big city boys.”
“Why didn’t you move to San Francisco?”
“We did for a few years—college. But Connor needed to be here for work.”
“What does your brother do?”
“He’s a financial genius. Billionaire.”
He said the billionaire part so casually, as if it was something people managed to achieve all the time. “So young?”
“You assume we’re young?”
“Your comment about Alex earlier,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “Caught. He’s pretty young to be a billionaire, I guess. No gray ties, though.”
“What do gray ties have to do with anything?”
“Don’t read a lot of fiction, do you?”
“Not really. I prefer nonfiction.”
“Probably best you don’t get that reference. We don’t know each other well enough for conversations about kinky sex.”
“What kind of books do you read?” Her head spun, and she had to grip the armrest to get her balance.
“I told you. I read everything.”
“OK.”
The heated look in his gaze sent a hot little spark of desire through her gut. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she suspected this line of conversation would get her even deeper into trouble, so she went back to something she hoped was safe.
“Your brother must be very good at what he does.”
“Oh, he is. And you definitely can’t meet him now.”
“Why is now different?”
“You’re showing interest in him. You’d probably like him. Which means I’m not introducing you two any time soon.”
She wasn’t even remotely sure how to respond to him. Especially because his pretend jealousy and possessiveness pleased her. She didn’t understand that reaction. It didn’t make sense. But very little about her encounter with Brody did.
“What brought you to New York?” she asked, scrambling for something like solid ground in this conversation. “Did you move with your brother?”
“No. I was in Connecticut first, with my AHL team. Then New York when the Empires brought me up.”
