by Kat Mizera
“You like Mexican?”
He nodded.
She gave him instructions and he headed in that direction. It took about twenty minutes to get to the quaint restaurant in Henderson and he helped her off the bike after they parked.
“I might be a little sore,” she confessed, giving him an impish grin.
“I’ll see what I can do to distract you from that after dinner,” he teased. He locked up their helmets and slid an arm around her waist as they walked into the restaurant. She’d had those sexy thighs wrapped around him all day and he wanted there to be as much contact as possible.
As soon as they were inside, she waved to someone and he watched as a pretty blond waitress waved back.
“Can we sit in Chelsea’s station?” Renee asked the hostess.
“Of course, Ms. DeSantos.” The woman led them that way.
“You’ve been here before?” he asked dryly.
“The owner is a friend, and my friend Chelsea, who I told you about, works here.”
“Hey, guys.” Chelsea gave them a big grin. “How are you?”
“I can’t believe you’re working tonight,” Renee laughed. “How late were you guys out last night?”
Chelsea laughed. “Until six this morning. I slept about seven hours and then came in. This is my last night, though. I’m taking the summer off because Nate and I are going to travel and stuff.”
Nate. The name clicked and Jared remembered that this was the girlfriend of one of the Sidewinders.
“I don’t think we’ve officially met,” Jared said to her, holding out his hand. “Jared Wylde.”
“Nice to meet you.” Chelsea shook it. “I’m Nate Calloway’s girlfriend.”
“I haven’t really had a chance to meet many of the wives and girlfriends,” he said politely.
“Well, Nate says you’re probably coming back next year so—”
“Nothing’s official,” Jared interrupted gently. “I haven’t been offered a position so I’m not counting my chickens.”
She nodded. “Totally understandable. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“Just water for me,” Jared said.
“A glass of sangria for me,” Renee told her.
“I’ll be back.”
Chelsea headed to the back and Renee glanced at Jared.
“Not even a glass of wine?”
“Not when I’m on the bike. If I had my SUV, I’d drink one, a beer or whatever, but on the bike, I don’t take any chances at all.”
“Was your accident on a motorcycle?”
“No. I was a passenger in a limousine, but the guy that hit us was on a motorcycle. He was drunk and when the driver tried to avoid hitting him, we went over an embankment. Flipped six times. I broke both legs and my right arm, got a concussion. The motorcycle driver was killed. I was the only one left in the car after a night of partying. They say it would have been worse if I’d been awake and tensed up, but since I was passed out in the back, my injuries weren’t as serious.”
Her eyes were soft, filled with not pity, but compassion and…respect? It was the oddest thing to see. Usually when he told that story, he got all kinds of sympathy, but Renee was merely listening.
“That sounds terrible. I’m so glad you walked away with your life, although I’m sure the recovery was awful.”
“It was, and thanks for not pitying me.”
“Pitying you?” She frowned. “You’re still alive. My husband was hit by a drunk driver and he wasn’t so lucky. Both cars went over a cliff into a lake and Billy hit his head so he was unconscious and drowned. The other driver got out, swam away and left him to die. They eventually caught him, but he let my husband die.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry. It’s still a sore subject.”
He reached across the table for her hand. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I usually try to get it out of the way early on because inevitably a woman I go out with either finds an article online or wants to know every detail because it was big news in the hockey world a decade ago.”
“I was a widowed single mom working two jobs to stay alive back then… Hockey news wasn’t on my radar.”
He smiled. “I hear you.”
“Hey, Coach.” Nate Calloway approached the table with a smile, holding out his hand.
“Hey, Nate.” Jared got up and shook it. “Came to hang with the girlfriend for the night?”
“I can’t cook for shit, so if she’s not home, it’s takeout or something in the microwave. Besides, it’s her last night so we’ll probably hang out and drink at the bar for a while after her shift.”
“I’d invite you to sit down, but it’s date night.”
Nate grinned. “Well, you two have fun. Dinner before you leave for Europe, Renee?”
“Absolutely.” She squeezed his hand as he moved to the bar.
“I hope you don’t mind that I sent him away?”
“No. I hang out with Nate and Chelsea all the time. I’d much rather be alone with you tonight.”
“How come?” he asked casually, though he hoped she was thinking all the sexy things he’d been thinking all damn day.
“Because I spent the whole day on the back of your bike with all that vibrating power between my legs…which made me think of having other things between my legs.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
8
Their eyes met across the table and he tried to decide whether or not to kiss her. Maybe not in public like this. Especially not with Nate and Chelsea in the room. They were her good friends and he probably wasn’t going to be around much longer. Impulsively, he leaned over and lightly kissed her anyway, watching carefully for her reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed and though they kept their tongues in check, she was delightfully engaged. Their lips lingered for much longer than a chaste kiss normally would and he wanted her more than ever. Even if he was probably going home to Boston.
Though everyone assumed his position as the new head coach was a given, he had his doubts. He had a reputation for being an asshole on the ice and he couldn’t believe no one was going to make him jump through hoops to prove he was worthy of replacing someone as incredible as Brad Barnett.
“Here we go.” Chelsea arrived with their drinks and set them down. “Are you ready to order?”
“You know what I always get,” Renee told her.
“Steak fajitas,” Jared told her, handing her their menus.
“Coming right up.” Chelsea disappeared again and Renee took a dainty sip of her sangria.
“You guys seem like good friends,” he said after a moment, wondering what had happened to the sexual tension and how to get it back without being obvious.
“Chelsea’s a doll, and Nate is such a good guy. Most of the guys on the team are awesome. Well, the ones I know anyway.”
“Are you friendly with a lot of the guys’ wives?”
She nodded. “Well, Chelsea is one of my best friends as well as my virtual assistant. She’s best friends with Tore Brekken’s girlfriend, Jen, so Jen and I are friendly as well. I’m closer in age to Toli’s wife, Tessa, and I’ve recently gotten to know Andra really well. Mostly I hang out with them, though there’s a group of us that has lunch once every few weeks.”
“Everyone talks about how tight-knit a group these guys are, and in a way it worries me,” he admitted.
“Why?” she asked in surprise.
“I’m not a tight-knit, family-oriented kind of guy. I tend to keep my personal and professional lives completely separate and don’t usually put down roots.”
“You didn’t put down roots in Boston?”
He hesitated. “Kind of? I mean, I own my condo, but it’s small, definitely a bachelor pad, just a better investment than renting. I don’t have a lot of friends, though, and definitely not any of my players.”
“I think it’s different at the college level,” she pointed out. “I mean, some of those guys aren’t even legal.”
He chuckled. “That’s for sure.”
&nb
sp; “Don’t you get lonely?” she asked suddenly.
“I…don’t know. I think sometimes I do but I’m a guy—we don’t think that way. It’s like, hey, there’s no one here and nothing to do… I should go to a bar.”
“And get some strange?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“Something like that.”
“No girlfriends since your wife?”
He paused. “I wasn’t a very nice guy after the accident. I was pissed at the world. Yeah, I’m grateful to be alive, but I lost my career, the only thing I knew how to do, and ultimately my marriage. Luckily, my contract had three more years on it, with the best medical care available, so I was able to get back on my feet physically. While I was doing that, my buddy Fab brought me out to Switzerland and kind of forced me to help coach Zio’s team. It was fun, and I realized coaching was something I might want to do. I coached a year in Switzerland before I got the offer in Boston. From a personal perspective, though, I wasn’t interested in anything.”
“Did your wife leave you because of your injury?” she asked. “Is that too personal?”
“It’s kinda personal,” he said as he shrugged, “but I don’t mind answering. The short answer is yes. She knew I didn’t want kids but that year before the accident we made a deal…” He was suddenly very far away. “If we won the Cup, I’d agree to her getting pregnant. One kid was the compromise. After the accident, though, I told her the deal was off. No way could I become a dad when I was in that kind of shape. About two months later, she left.”
“I’m sorry.” Renee wrinkled her nose. “That must have been a very difficult time for you.”
“It was. And that’s why I don’t do relationships.”
“Still?” She didn’t seem alarmed, merely curious.
“I guess I’ve just gotten used to it. When I need companionship, I find some for the night, and when I need family, I have Fab and his family, and the rest of the time I work.”
She dipped her head. “We’re a lot alike. When I need that kind of companionship, I sleep with someone I probably shouldn’t, although in my case it tends to be more than once. When I need family, I have Daisy and a small group of girlfriends. The rest of the time I work. Or bake.”
“We’re quite a pair.”
“There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?”
“If neither of us are into relationships, and you’re all about one-nighters, why are we here?”
He didn’t have a real answer to that, because he didn’t know either, but just when he opened his mouth to respond, Chelsea arrived with their food. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.
Renee dug into her meal, not looking at him, and he felt a moment of discomfiture. Damn. He hadn’t been expecting things to get awkward, but here they were. This was why he didn’t date. Except she wasn’t like other women and he did want to date her. A little. Maybe?
“In answer to your question,” he said slowly, “I don’t know why I wanted to see you again, I just knew I had to. And here we are.”
She seemed to think that over as she chewed, finally swallowing and giving him a little smile. “Okay. That’s good enough for me.”
He smiled. That right there was exactly why he’d wanted to see her again.
They got home late and he walked Renee to the front door.
“Today was lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure was mine.” He looked down at her, as if waiting for some kind of signal.
She wanted him to come in and make wild, sexy love to her, but she was hesitant because sleeping together again might put her in the position of liking him more than she already did. He obviously felt it too, this reluctance to take things to the next step, to possibly get to a point where things would get complicated. Neither of them had to say the words because they were right there, hanging in the air between them.
“I should—” he began.
“We should—” She spoke at the same time.
“Ladies first,” he said.
“No, you go ahead.” She waited.
“I should go,” he said finally. “You said you had a book to finish and I need to get some sleep after last night’s all-nighter.”
“Of course.”
“Renee, I…” He hesitated. “Can I call you?”
“Of course.”
“Maybe we can have dinner again later in the week? There are a few team events going on that Brad said he wanted me to attend with the team, but I should have plenty of free time.”
“I need to finish this book, but I should be done in a day or two and I’ll be at the parade the day after tomorrow.”
“Let’s see what happens, but maybe after the parade we can go do something?”
“Sounds good.”
He leaned over and his eyes twinkled. “So, no one’s gettin’ any strange tonight?” He didn’t wait for her answer but kissed her instead. His tongue probed between her lips until she gave in to the heat, the promise, the pure desire that existed when they were near each other. The kiss deepened and he pressed her against her own front door, one hand cupping her ass perfectly, holding her in place as he pillaged her mouth, taking pull after pull until it was reminiscent of the way he’d taken her last night. God, it was so damn good. Just when she was sure he was going to strip her right there on her front porch, he slowly moved away.
When they finally pulled apart, he met her eyes in the pale light and smiled. “See you soon, darlin’.”
“Good night.” She watched him go, disappointment coursing through her. Damn him and the raging need he’d left her with. It was going to be hard to focus on writing when the only thing on her mind was Jared Wylde.
Jared drove back to Brad and Andra’s trying not to think about the auburn-haired woman he’d spent the day—and last night—with. Why was she different? Why was he more drawn to her than any other woman in a decade? He’d had lots of good sex, but this was something else and it was strange because it had only been one night. Maybe it was the four hours of delicious, physical pleasure that led him to her front door in the light of day.
He stowed both helmets and tucked his copy of Petra and Her Phantom under his arm as he let himself into the house with Andra’s spare key. They’d really made him at home. He had to remember to do something nice for them before he left.
“Hey, there.” Andra was reading a book on the couch, cuddled against Brad, as he walked into the kitchen in search of a bottle of water.
“Hey. Just getting some water and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“No reason to run away,” she smiled. “We’re just recuperating after last night’s shenanigans.”
“Me too,” Jared smiled. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night so I’m going to hit the sack.”
“Come find me in the morning,” Brad called after him. “Mr. Finch wants to meet with you tomorrow night.”
“Got it.” Jared waved. “Good night.”
He got into bed and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His body was tired but his mind was racing. What did Mr. Finch want? Lonnie Finch owned the Sidewinders and he could be the one to offer him a contract, but that didn’t mean that’s what this was. He might be cutting him loose. There was no way to know and he probably wouldn’t sleep worth a damn until he found out. Too bad he hadn’t stayed with Renee. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He liked her and she liked him—why wasn’t he balls deep inside of her right now?
Because she was different.
He didn’t know how or why, but she was. Older, independently wealthy, the parent of a grown child…all the things he wanted, except he hadn’t realized those were the specific things he wanted. Attractive was a given. Intelligent and at least financially self-sufficient were also nonnegotiable. Everything else had always been somewhat vague, a set of ambiguous qualities that he wouldn’t know until he found them. And he had. A delightfully unique woman who wrote sexy books and had raised
a child mostly on her own had caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. Walking away like he had tonight would have been unthinkable with any other woman he’d had such great sex with the night before. He would’ve been down for a repeat, several of them, until he got tired of her. Renee wasn’t the type of woman you got tired of, though, and he didn’t like this feeling at all.
Frustrated, he pulled out her book and started to read again.
“Can you lift your head, little one?” The man’s gruff voice penetrated her fever-induced haze and Petra tried to work up the energy to be indignant.
“I’m not little,” she croaked. “I’m a grown woman.”
“So you are.”
She could have sworn she saw a faint smile beneath the hood he refused to take off in front of her.
“I’m twenty-two,” she protested weakly. “How old are you?”
“More than twenty-two.” He gently cupped her head with one beefy hand as he brought a spoon to her mouth. “You need to eat or you won’t get better.”
“Oh, yuck, what is that?” she gasped after swallowing the bitter broth.
“Good for you. Eat.”
She turned away but he was gently persistent. “Herbs from my garden. Eat. Please.” It was the first time he’d said please and it warmed her more than any broth. She grudgingly opened her mouth and took a few more bites.
“It’s terrible, but it feels good going down.”
“Nature has almost everything you need to heal, short of broken bones or bullet wounds.”
“Have you had a bullet wound?” she asked, her big eyes widening.
“More than one.”
9
Brad was already up and having coffee when Jared padded down the stairs. He hadn’t gotten ten hours of sleep in a while but he’d obviously needed it after the last two weeks. Brad looked up with a smile.
“Mornin’. Grab some coffee and let’s talk.”
“Sure.” Jared did as he was told, sinking down across from his friend.
“Mr. Finch wants to meet with you tonight. Dinner at his house. Informal, just him and his wife, Andra and me, and Pierre and his wife.” Pierre Bouchard was the team’s general manager.