It all worked because they were so similar. The brothers had the same boss to complain about and compliment since Jack Foster owned Jordan's team and the buildings Ethan took on as a redevelopment project manager. They also had the same ideas about what made a house great. Big television. Comfortable furniture. A well-stocked kitchen. Ethan always made sure there was cold beer in the fridge, especially after one of the captain's long road trips.
"You want a drink?" Jordan yelled.
"Hell yeah!" came a voice from somewhere else in the house.
He grabbed two bottles, twisting the caps off and dropping them on the counter as he headed to the dining room. Ethan was standing there, pool cue in hand as he sank the eight ball.
"Just in time," he said, reaching for the beer in Jordan's outstretched hand. "It's good to have you home, brother."
"Good to be home," he replied before taking a sip. "You know, we really need to set some rules about this pool table."
"I thought the fact that we put a pool table in the middle of our dining room meant we didn't need rules."
Jordan smiled. It really had been a genius plan to use the space in a way that it would truly be appreciated by them, but one of them appreciated it too much. "It's not fair that you're allowed to get extra practice in while I'm on the road."
"You're not home because you're on the road playing hockey."
"I'm on the road because I had to work this afternoon, which was a Sunday, in Toronto."
"Better than finally getting the weekend off after dealing with deadbeat commercial plumbers."
"Good point," Jordan replied. "New game?"
His brother racked up the balls and let Jordan take the first break as they chatted, drank and traded trash talk over the billiards table. Jordan's job gave him plenty of practice to verbally rip down his brother. Ethan's extra time at home apparently gave him plenty of practice to beat his younger sibling.
Of course, it didn't help that Ethan figured the game would be the perfect time to start grilling him on Charlotte Stone.
"She's just a fan," Jordan insisted, fingers tightening around the pool cue in his hand.
"A fan doesn't spend $61,000 to have dinner with you."
He shrugged. "It's not a romantic dinner. It's just for charity."
"Am I invited?"
"Why would you be invited?"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "That's the point. I'm not invited. It's a romantic dinner."
"I'm pretty sure there will be other people there. Just because you're not coming doesn't mean it's romantic."
"Eight ball, corner pocket," Ethan called before sinking the shot. Jordan grimaced. Yep, Ethan definitely had an unfair advantage with the extra practice. "Food?"
The pair headed back to the kitchen and Jordan grabbed a box of cold leftover pizza from the fridge. A silence fell over them as they started eating, but he knew it wouldn't be long before Ethan felt the need to say something.
"There's nothing wrong with hooking up with Charlotte if that's what you want."
And there it was. "As I have mentioned before, I have a lot of responsibility now. I don't have time for dating someone."
Ethan laughed loudly. "I wasn't suggesting you date her. I was just saying it wouldn't be a bad thing if you were interested in her." He stood up straighter and gave Jordan a curious look. "Wait, are you interested in Charlotte enough that you'd want to actually date her?"
"No," he insisted. "I mean, not that I, you know, it's just that—"
"You actually like her." Ethan shot him a teasing smile before taking another bite.
"I don't," he insisted. "It's just a charity dinner."
"You said that already."
"Because it is."
Ethan huffed and dropped his slice back in the box. "Kitchen table."
Jordan rolled his eyes. "Ethan, there's nothing more to say."
"Kitchen table."
His voice was more forceful this time, and Jordan knew exactly what that meant. He needed to sit.
The brothers had a stash of well-aged scotch in a cupboard above the fridge for emergency situations. Rough days at work. Problems with women. Talking about their parents. It was a routine they had developed after their mother left them, one that involved ginger ale until Jordan got older and they switched to the good stuff. Ethan had come up with it after he decided to take the saying, "Put it all on the table," literally. When Jordan was a teenager, it worked wonders as he tried to navigate the drastic changes in their lives. Now that he was an adult, it gave him a person who was honest with him, not some "yes" man, even if he was stubborn about it.
He just didn't want to talk about Charlotte. Not yet. But this conversation with Ethan had been brewing for a while. It was time he faced it.
Jordan watched as Ethan opened the cupboard and pulled out the scotch before grabbing two tumblers and filling them with ice and liquor.
"Take your glass," Ethan instructed.
He did as he was told and followed his brother to the table, pulling out the chair across from him.
"I know you're trying to change and be more mature now that you're the captain of the team," Ethan stated. "I don't blame you for that. But I know when you're trying to hide something, and I'm telling you that you don't need to hide your feelings for this girl if you have them."
Jordan grabbed his glass and took a long drink, hoping it would give him some courage to put his feelings into words. "This is the best team I've played for, Ethan. We have a chance to win it all this year. A good chance. And we have that chance because I'm focused on hockey."
"I'm not saying that's a bad thing. It's a good thing, a very good thing," Ethan said. "But I know you and this long dry spell of yours is not your typical M.O."
"Because I've changed."
"But are you completely shutting yourself off to something that could be good?"
He shrugged. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Yeah, it kind of is."
Jordan just drank as the kitchen got quiet, the only sound the hum of the fridge. This was normal for their table talks, a time to go back to their emotional corners and regroup. It usually led to one of them bringing up their parents, and Ethan was as predictable as always.
"When mom left—"
"Really?" Jordan growled.
"When mom left, she damaged both of us," Ethan insisted, softer this time. "But if you really like this girl, you need to take a chance on her, and it can be a real chance and not some one-night thing if you want more than that."
Jordan dropped his glass on the table, a little heavier than he expected. "Why do you keep pressing me on this? What makes you think some woman who bought dinner with me at a charity auction is now my one true love or something else fantastically stupid?"
"Because you've never been this defensive about a woman."
"She paid a lot of money at a charity auction to have dinner with me. I can't help if that was flattering."
Ethan flashed him a mischievous grin. "Why do you always act like I don't know you as well as I do?"
Jordan slouched in his chair. He was losing this battle, but this was a conversation he already had with himself. Charlotte was beautiful and unique and there was just something about her, but she was also a well-known New York socialite. Forget the prying press in Detroit. Being with someone like her would make those issues even worse. Could he actually date a woman during the best season of his career? Would the added issue that it was Charlotte Stone, the Charlotte Stone, cause more problems than a potential relationship was worth?
"What's going on in your head, brother?" Ethan asked.
"First, I'm thinking I need to finish this drink."
"That's not what I meant," he said sternly. "What about Charlotte?"
Jordan drained his glass and set it down on the table. "I'll see what happens at dinner."
Chapter 4
She shouldn't be nervous about this dinner, especially since everything was going according to plan so far. Chef Marco was in her kitc
hen with his crew whipping up what smelled like an amazing meal while Charlotte had set up her dining room table so it would look perfect. Her friends had been texting her all day and seemed to be just as excited as she was.
Can't wait for the best dinner I've ever had.
Can I come over a few minutes early and go through your shoe closet?
You're going to be the prettiest date of all the dates!
She saved her biggest smile for that last one, which came from Aiden via his father.
It was all good and fine so why was she so nervous? She wracked her brain, thinking about something she may have left off her list or forgot to do. But every thought kept going back to one person: Jordan King.
To say she had been enamored with him would be an understatement. She had paid for dinner with him and had invited her friends to join her. It wasn't like this was some romantic candlelit meal. And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he had jumped off the stage and gallantly swooped in to plant a kiss on her hand, or the way he smiled and winked at her, leaving her breathless.
But every time she thought of Jordan, her mind jumped to that stupid Boyfriend Box in the back corner of her storage closet with that stupid helmet from Declan Reed. The thought made her angry at both Declan and herself. She needed to let go of that someday.
The sound of the doorbell broke her out of her latest trip down memory lane, and she did one last quick check of herself in her bedroom mirror before heading through the living room to answer the door.
"Charlotte!" Aiden exclaimed cheerfully as soon as she opened it. "I brought these for you!"
The little boy stuck his hand out with a bouquet of roses almost as big as him.
"You are the perfect gentleman, Aiden," she said, grabbing them before he could drop the heavy bouquet.
"My dad told me I was supposed to bring you flowers since you were my date, so I picked those out."
She gave a smile to Adam, who was standing behind his son. "Your father was absolutely right and you did an excellent job," she told the young boy, holding her hand out to him. "Should we put these in some water?"
Aiden nodded and she pulled him into the living room where she grabbed a large vase from a shelf by the television.
"If you guys would like something to drink, the bar is set up in the corner over there." Charlotte pointed with her flowers to bottles of liquor and her fancy highball glasses that she only pulled out on special occasions. "Aiden, I got you a special Detroit Pirates cup for tonight and there's some apple juice in the fridge. Want to follow me?"
"Awesome!"
She and her date headed for the kitchen with his mother following behind them wearing what Charlotte now noticed was very questionable footwear.
"Rachel, if you go down that hall, second door on the left is my bedroom. I promise I have shoes in my closet that are much better than what you're wearing."
The woman gave her a knowing smirk. "I'm wearing Cookie Monster slippers. I'm sure whatever you have will be more appropriate for this dress."
"I gave those to her for Christmas," Aiden explained.
"Once again, proving you are an amazing gentleman," Charlotte said.
The two of them deftly maneuvered around the chefs in her kitchen to get some water for her vase. She had to admit that she actually couldn't remember the last time anyone bought her flowers, and she wasn't sure if it was sweet or pathetic that she finally got some from a six-year-old.
Charlotte put the flowers on her coffee table in the living room and left the boys to check on Rachel, who came out of her closet with a strappy pair of black Jimmy Choo shoes.
"Those look much better."
"It's not hard to compete with Cookie Monster slippers when you have a shoe collection like that." Rachel started to head for the bedroom door. "You coming?"
Charlotte shook her head. "I just need to refresh my lipstick. I'm on my way."
Her guest gave her a knowing smile as if she thought that Charlotte was stalling to make sure she looked perfect, which was actually the case. But this definitely was still not a date.
Charlotte had just turned the bathroom light off when she heard the doorbell ring again, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before telling herself there was nothing to be nervous about. She looked out to see that Adam had already answered the door and was introducing himself and Rachel to Jordan King, captain of the Detroit Pirates, who was currently standing in her living room.
Charlotte walked out of the bedroom and down the hall, growing more confident as each step of her three-inch heels made a decisive "click" on her dark hardwood floors. The sound got Jordan's attention and he turned, a smile growing bigger on his lips as she got closer.
"Miss Charlotte Stone," he said, bowing slightly as if he was Fitzwilliam Darcy and this was some damn Jane Austen novel.
"Mr. King, I presume," she replied demurely.
He walked over to her and gave her a polite peck on the check. "I hope I'm not running late."
"Not at all," she said. "Dinner is almost ready, and you can give me your coat and help yourself to the bar over there in the corner."
Jordan smiled and handed her a dark sheepskin coat with a polite "Thank you," before heading to the bar she had meticulously set up.
"These look really cool," he said as he reached for one of her cut-glass tumblers. "Anything you recommend, Adam?"
"Charlotte stocked the bar with some good stuff so you can't go wrong." Adam looked very proud of himself for actually answering with a coherent sentence.
Jordan got some ice from the bucket and some bourbon from the shelf, his muscles flexing under his well-tailored suit. Not that Charlotte was paying attention to his body so closely. Except she was.
"So how do you all know each other?" Jordan asked.
"We actually all sit together at the arena," she explained.
Jordan turned and smiled at Charlotte. "The dead guy's tickets, eh?"
"Right, those tickets."
Charlotte could feel herself getting warmer. He not only remembered the fact that she got those tickets the night they met a few weeks ago but seemed to find his embarrassment that night more amusing now. Perhaps he wasn't the typical hockey player with the typical hockey ego. Perhaps.
"So just to clarify," Jordan said. "You two are married."
"Yep," Adam replied as he took Rachel's hand.
He turned, a sly smile on his face as he pointed to Charlotte. "And you're single."
"Not tonight."
He gave her a perplexed look. "Not tonight?" he asked.
"I actually have a date."
She saw Jordan's face fall a bit before he quickly recovered, and she tried to convince herself that she was just seeing things. He wouldn't be bothered by the fact that she had a date because he wouldn't be interested in her. And it didn't matter even if he was because she didn't date hockey players.
"Oh," he tried to say casually. "Did I miss him?"
Charlotte looked around the room and realized he was gone. "Um..."
"He's in the bathroom," Adam said gently.
That's when Charlotte heard tiny footsteps sprinting towards her. "I'm here! I'm here!" Aiden yelled.
She turned to find him waving his hands in the air as he sprinted towards Jordan before stopping abruptly in front of him, his nervousness taking over.
"I do hope you washed your hands, young man," Jordan said. Aiden just nodded quietly as the hockey player stuck his hand out for the boy to shake. "I'm Jordan."
"I know."
The group laughed a bit as the boy slowly shook Jordan's hand without letting go. Charlotte walked up behind him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Jordan, I would like you to meet my date for the evening: Aiden Ward."
Jordan looked up at Charlotte, his face immediately becoming softer as he realized his foe was a six-year-old boy.
"So are you my adversary for Miss Stone's affections?" Jordan asked.
"I don't k
now what that means," Aiden said innocently.
"To be fair, he did bring me flowers," she said, pointing to the bouquet on the coffee table. "You're going to have some ground to make up already."
Jordan smiled and stood up, his blue eyes staring directly at her. "Well, that is quite an opening challenge," he said with a smirk on his face.
Charlotte felt her cheeks flush and was trying to find a way to get out of this situation. Luckily, Marco chose that moment let her know that dinner was ready, and she ushered everyone into her dining room. She had spent hours earlier in the day making sure the table was all set up to look its best with her white china, cut glass goblets and silverware. Each place had a napkin set off to the side in napkin holders that she had specifically chosen because they looked like hollowed-out hockey pucks. The chef had already put a salad at all of their places and his assistant quickly poured wine for everyone, except for the apple juice for Aiden.
As everyone got situated, Charlotte walked at the head of the table and raised her glass to her guests. "To eating good food with good people!"
"And to Charlotte, for being a wonderful host with a generous wallet," Adam said with a warm smile.
Jordan raised his glass towards her, and she felt a rush of warmth through her entire body. Remember the rules, she thought. No hockey players.
Jordan tried to distract himself from staring at Charlotte too long as they finished eating, turning his attention to her date instead. After interacting with so many young fans over the years, he knew exactly how to make them respond to him.
"Would you like to help me clear the table, Aiden?"
He turned and gave Jordan a huge grin before grabbing the silverware from everyone and going with his hockey hero into the kitchen. The rest of the crew followed them with their plates, cups and silverware in hand.
"You can just put it on the counter," Charlotte instructed.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
She turned quickly, somehow putting herself only inches away from him, her body so close he could feel the heat through his suit. "Um, yeah, no, that's fine," she stammered before taking a breath. "It's calming to do them after a night of entertaining."
For the Captain (The Detroit Pirates Book 1) Page 4
