Smokeshow: A Hockey Love story
Page 23
"Ah, man, you're supposed to leave that burdensome shit at the door with your phone." Bill wiped down the glossy wood of the bar and glanced to my right. I followed his line of vision.
I slung back another swallow of Lag and finished it off. A girl I'd seen in here before was making her way toward me. I held on to her eyes as she came forward, knowing precisely why I remembered her in the first place. She looked a lot like another long-legged beauty who tempted my dreams relentlessly. Thick brown hair I wanted in my hands. Pretty eyes that told me I could do a lot more than pull her hair. A lush body just aching for some properly dispensed attention at my hands. Fucking perfect.
"That's the plan, Bill," I answered, without taking my eyes off the girl. "That is my plan."
* * *
The feeling of calm I'd earned from my time at Lurid disintegrated as soon as I pulled into the basement parking garage two hours later. Because who pulled in just five seconds behind me? Yep, Winter's silver hybrid slid into her dedicated parking space just four spots away. I killed the engine and mentally willed her to go up without me.
Didn't work.
Because when she got out of her car, she headed to where I was parked, a half-smile on her beautiful face. A messenger bag slung over her shoulder and a backpack in her hand, she looked every inch the young university student she was. Wearing jeans and a jacket, her long brown hair pulled up into a loose knot, she appeared before me completely fresh-faced and innocent.
So beautiful.
Utterly perfect.
Fucking gorgeous.
But facing her right now—in my current state of mind, and from where I'd just come—was a disaster waiting to happen.
Unluckily for me, my sorry ass was out of options. So, I plastered what I hoped was a pleasant expression onto my face as I got out of the Lexus. "Hey you." I locked it and made my way to where she waited. I made a show of checking my watch. "It's almost midnight, young lady."
"Night class. Three hours once a week. It was the only time offered."
I didn't like the idea of her walking alone on campus so late at night. "What's the course?"
"Ethics with Dr. Drummond," she said, giving me another one of her half-smiles.
The irony wasn't lost on me. Did ethics even exist in the workplace anymore? My father certainly didn't have any. I held my hand out for her backpack so I could carry it for her.
"What's so funny?" she asked as she handed it over.
"Hmm?" I looked into her eyes, which were uniquely beautiful all on their own. A deep green and ringed with a gold band. Stunning even at the end of what had to be a very long day. I could only imagine how magnificent her eyes would be looking at me while I was deep inside her, and she was about to come. You can stop the fuck right now with those kinds of thoughts, because it's never happening with her.
"You laughed when I told you my class tonight was ethics."
"I did?"
"Yes, James, you did. What's wrong?" She tilted her head at me and waited.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything is fine. Good. Great." You can shut off the lame-ass babbling too, asshole.
"You're looking at me weird." She licked her lips and dragged her tongue over her teeth. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth? I had a granola bar for dinner during our break."
A granola bar for dinner? I didn't like what she'd had for dinner any more than I approved of her walking alone across a dark campus to get to her car. Next Wednesday night would go down much differently. No, I took the opportunity she'd just handed to me so neatly and used it to my advantage instead. I'm not a complete moron all the time.
"Let me look." I took her chin in my hand and tilted her mouth toward mine. "Don't move." I brought my finger to her mouth and tugged it along her bottom lip. I leaned closer and studied her pouty lips and the bottom row of her even, white teeth. I felt how she trembled slightly in my hold, and I heard her quick intake of breath. I even caught the flowery scent of her perfume all in the span of a precious moment. "There's something…I see a—"
"What?" she asked worriedly, her chin still held in my hand. I didn't think I could let go. I'd made a big mistake touching her. I realized it too late to stop the madness that tumbled from my godforsaken mouth in my next breath.
"All I can see is a very beautiful, lovely girl named Winter, and I think she should marry me."
Her eyes flared a little before she took a sharp breath and pulled out of my grasp. "You ass." She punched me playfully in the shoulder and then laughed, her face a little flushed.
I breathed a massive sigh of relief she'd taken my little confession as a joke.
Thank Christ.
As we walked toward the elevators, I diverted my mini-disaster and asked her about school and her volunteering job at the South Boston Youth Center—anything to take the focus off me, and why I was coming in at this late hour. She unhappily shared the story of a young brother and sister who were in a dismal situation with a mom who most likely prostituted herself to keep them fed. I could tell it broke her heart to have to send the kids home in the evenings when the center closed for the day. Winter was such a good person in her heart, and she would help a lot of people in her lifetime. I knew this without a shadow of a doubt.
"It was nice of you to carry my backpack and walk me to my door." She turned to face me as we got to her apartment and held her hand out for her backpack. I reluctantly gave it to her, wishing our short time together wasn't over so soon.
"My pleasure, Win. I like knowing you're right here beneath me all safe and sound."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to figure out my comment and what I was insinuating. Oh, I'd intended the double meaning all right. I was a dickhead for teasing her all the time. I said shit I shouldn't say to her. But still, I kept doing it. The kid in the third grade who relentlessly tormented the little girl he secretly had a crush on? That kid was me right now.
"Goodnight, James." She hurried to unlock her door, probably to get away from me.
"Night, Win. Get some rest."
"You too," she said with a sexy half laugh and gentle shake of her head—right before she shut the door in my face.
Yeah, Winter was one of a kind. A diamond amongst the rocks. She was fucking gorgeous with a heart I wished could be mine. But Winter Blackstone deserved someone much better than me. And always would.
As I headed for the stairwell, I knew something else, too.
All I can see is a very beautiful, lovely girl named Winter, and I think she should marry me.
Nothing in my comment had been a joke. I'd meant every word…even if it would always remain a fantasy.
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Acknowledgments
As with any book I write, it takes a village to get me (and the book) to the finish line. I love my village.
Katie, Franzi, Luna, Pamela: I don’t know where I’d be without your continual encouragement and friendship. Just a very heartfelt THANK YOU from me to you. With a hug. And a ton of sloppy kisses. Oxxxxxxx…
To Marion for all of the excellent word-smithing help, you are a delight to work with. Thank you for helping me to make my books the best that they can be. Eternally grateful.
To Dana for the gorgeous cover, and Sara for the images of my Tyler and Zoya together. Both of you ladies are so very talented.
To all of my friends in Raine Miller Romance Readers, you are my bright spots of light just when I need it the most. Simba, Wendy, Martha, and Miria, thank you so much for your efforts in keeping the ship afloat even when the captain is off on a bender somewhere. (Me! I am the captain!!) Your posts never go unnoticed.
Thank you to my loyal, patient, kind, lovely, amazing, supportive readers. The ones who rea
d every book I give you and share it with your friends. You make this whole gig possible. Please don’t ever change. LOL
And finally, to my husband, for keeping me on the path of sanity with encouragement and support every step of the way. And for loving me anyway when I lose my sanity. It happens pretty regularly as you know. You’re my rock.
I hope you all enjoy Tyler and Zoya’s love story as much as I did bringing them onto the page.
Until the next one…
PSSSST…it’s about a goalie and a girl in a rock band.
Blessings et al.
About Brit DeMille
Brit DeMille is the alter ego of NYT Bestselling author, Raine Miller, having an absolute blast writing books quite different from what she writes as Raine.
Stories about sexy billionaires [millionaires make the cut too] who fall in instalove with young women who may or may not be virgins, and then go on to make adorable babies together are her favorite themes. In addition to the billionaires, hot hockey players are at the top of her list of favorite heroes, along with royals and ex-military bodyguards.
Most important when she writes a story is a happily ever after. But during the actual writing of the story, the most important thing is a cup of hot tea with a splash of milk (and don’t forget the stash of cherry Jolly Ranchers). A dog or two will likely be in between her and the chair at any given moment, which is very handy, because they are the ones who approve everything she writes.
You can connect with Brit/Raine on Facebook in her Raine Miller Romance Readers group. She’s there most every day.
Also by Raine Miller
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
The PASSION of DARIUS
The UNDOING of a LIBERTINE
The MUSE
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
CHERRY GIRL
PRICELESS
HUSBAND MATERIAL
BLACKSTONE DYNASTY
FILTHY RICH, I
FILTHY LIES, II
THE BLACKSTONE AFFAIR
NAKED, Part 1
ALL IN, Part 2
EYES WIDE OPEN, Part 3
RARE and PRECIOUS THINGS, Part 4
Writing as Vivienne Wilmont
LORD BLACKWOOD’S VIRGIN
Writing as Brit DeMille
CRUSHED, Vegas Crush #1
SIN SHOT, Vegas Crush #2
RED ROCKET, Vegas Crush #3
PUCK MONEY, Vegas Crush #4
SMOKESHOW, Vegas Crush #5