Nadia laughed. “I didn’t say that!”
“But you were thinking it.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she insisted. “But c’mon, Reid. We’re talking about a guy whose nickname is ‘HD’ because his slap shots are so lethal, goalies see ’em coming in high-definition. We’re talking about the same guy who smashes the puck so hard, he’s been known to rip a hole in the net. So, yeah, it’s a little hard for me to reconcile a player like that being a wine connois— What’s wrong?”
Reid had dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. “God, it turns me on when you talk hockey. Especially when you use phrases like coming in high-definition and smashes the puck and rip a hole…” He shuddered, setting his glass down. “If you could feel how hard I am right now—”
Nadia threw back her head with a delighted peal of laughter that had him grinning from ear to ear.
“You are such a dirty boy,” she teased, her eyes twinkling.
He winked. “And don’t you forget it.”
She grinned and drank more wine. When she put her glass down, Reid couldn’t resist leaning over and stealing a kiss from her. The Bordeaux was good. But it tasted even better on her luscious lips.
When the Foo Fighters’ “The Pretender” came on and Nadia started singing, it was all Reid could do not to get down on one knee and propose. He was thrilled beyond belief that she knew the words to one of his all-time favorite songs.
He cranked up the volume and sang along with her, his wooden spoon doing double duty as a microphone. She laughed and played air guitar while shaking her hair over her face like a bona fide metalhead. Reid fucking loved it.
They rocked out together, practically screaming the lyrics to each other over the song’s hard-pounding riffs. When “The Pretender” went off, they struck the same rocker pose with their tongues sticking out and their hands flashing devil horns.
They looked at each other, then burst into a round of shoulder-shaking laughter, gusty shouts of mirth that sent tears running down their cheeks.
It was several moments before they could speak again.
“That was so fun,” Nadia said breathlessly, her eyes sparkling.
“Hells yeah.” Reid was grinning hard. “Damn, girl, I didn’t know you liked the Foo Fighters.”
“Are you kidding? I love the Foos.”
Reid put his hand over his heart and sighed. “I think I’m in love.”
Nadia laughed and blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He watched her, a warm glow of affection spreading through him. “Seriously. I didn’t know you could rock out like that.”
She grinned. “You should see me at one of Scarlett’s concerts. You wouldn’t even recognize me.”
“Yeah? You’ll have to take me with you sometime.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’d love that.”
“Me too.” Reid turned toward the sink and rinsed off the wooden spoon. “Speaking of Scarlett, I told Viggo she’s back in town and he really wants to meet her. Can we make that happen or what?”
“We can, but…” Nadia trailed off with a sigh.
“But what?”
“I was sorta hoping he and Jess might hook up.”
“Hmm.” Reid dipped the spoon into the bubbling spaghetti sauce and stirred.
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Viggo’s really interested in meeting Scarlett. He went online and looked up her band, then downloaded both of their albums—”
Nadia looked pleased. “He did?”
“Yup. So did I. We’ve both been enjoying their music. Scarlett’s a kickass drummer with a helluva voice. Not to mention that she’s gorgeous.” He gave Nadia a sideways grin. “If I hadn’t met you first—”
“Hey!” she protested.
He laughed. “Just kidding. Well, not the part about Scarlett being hot. The last part.”
Nadia mock-glared at him. “I get it.”
He grinned and winked. “Seriously though, babe. If you really want me to ask Viggo about Jess again, I will. But I already know what he’s going to say.”
Nadia sighed. “I’m really trying to be a good friend here, but I certainly don’t mind introducing Viggo to Scarlett if that’s what he really wants. If they end up hitting it off…”
“Then it was meant to be.”
She smiled. “Pretty much.”
Reid blew on the steaming sauce, then turned and brought the spoon to Nadia’s mouth. “Taste this.”
His cock twitched as he watched her lips open and close over the edge of the spoon. “Mmm,” she breathed appreciatively. “Oh my God, Reid. That’s absolutely divine.”
Grinning, he slid the spoon into his mouth and licked off the remaining sauce. “Perfect.”
“It is,” she agreed, picking up her wineglass. “You hit it out of the park.”
He sent her a sly look. “Does that mean you’re naming your firstborn after me?”
She laughed shyly and lowered her lashes to sip her wine.
Grinning, Reid put the lid back on the pan. “The sauce is ready. It just needs to simmer for about twenty minutes. Gotta let the spices marinate.”
Nadia’s eyes danced over the rim of her glass. “Marinate, huh?”
“Yeah, baby. Marinate.”
“Gotcha.” She sighed contentedly and looked around. “I can’t get over how amazing your home is. Every room is so big and gorgeously decorated.” She smiled. “It must be nice to have an interior designer in the family. Your sister Avery is very talented.”
“Thank you,” Reid said warmly. “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments when she gets back from Germany.”
“Germany?” Nadia repeated curiously. “What’s she doing in Germany?”
“Attending a trade show. She goes to several every year, sometimes back to back. They’re held all over the world.”
“Really?” Nadia set her glass down beside her. “Sounds exciting.”
“She enjoys them.” Reid chuckled. “She always comes back inspired and excited about the latest trends in interior design. I’m sure she’ll want to redecorate my living room or something.”
Nadia grinned. “I hope not. Why mess with perfection?”
“That’s what I always tell her.” In the mood to hear something more mellow, Reid switched to a contemporary soft rock channel.
When Justin Timberlake’s “Not A Bad Thing” began playing moments later, Nadia’s face lit up. “Ohh, I love this song.”
Reid grinned. “Yeah?”
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—he knew all the words because Aria had played the damn song every day last summer during their family vacation at the lake.
Before he realized what he was doing, before he could think it through and maybe stop himself, he grabbed the wooden spoon and began serenading Nadia: “Said all I want from you is to see you tomorrow…and every tomorrow, maybe you’ll let me borrow your heart….”
“Oh my God.” She laughed softly and blushed, cupping her cheeks as she stared up at him.
Enjoying her reaction, he winked and did a shuffling little dance step that made her squeal as he crooned into the spoon, “So don’t act like it’s a bad thing to fall in love with me…”
It was cheesy, totally cornball. But he could tell Nadia loved every moment of it. And he loved…God help him. He was too damn scared to even go there. But as he sang to her, the romantic lyrics captured his feelings so perfectly he could have written them himself.
When the song ended, Nadia clapped her hands in delight, staring at him with shining eyes. She looked so beautiful his breath caught and his chest ached.
“Wow,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you, Mr. Holden?”
He grinned, feeling sheepish. “Just fooling around.”
“I loved it. That song…” She trailed off.
Their eyes clung for a long moment. And then she looked away, biting her bottom lip as she stared out the window at the fal
ling rain.
A streak of lightning forked across the sky. It was followed by a clap of thunder that Reid barely heard over the loud beating of his heart.
After another moment Nadia cleared her throat.
And the spell was broken.
“While we’re waiting on the sauce,” she said, “I’m just gonna check my email.”
Reid helped her down from the counter, then tweaked her nose. “It’s supposed to be your day off.”
“I know. But I need to take care of a few things for my coworker. She’s going to be out for a couple days this week, so I promised to pinch-hit for her.” Nadia shook her head at herself. “What’s with me and all the baseball jargon today?”
Reid chuckled and playfully swatted her backside, making her giggle. He watched as she padded over to the breakfast nook, sat at the table with her knees pulled up to her chest and powered on her laptop.
Turning away, he lowered the heat on the sauce and then took out a big pot to boil water for the spaghetti noodles. Before leaving that morning, Mrs. Keller—his ever efficient housekeeper—had tossed a Greek salad, baked a loaf of her homemade French bread and whipped up some tiramisu for dessert. So all he had to prepare was the main course.
“Aww,” Nadia cooed from the breakfast table.
“What?”
“One of my former students just had a baby, and her husband shared some pictures on Facebook. Their daughter is so adorable.”
Reid smiled. “Congrats to the new parents. But what’re you doing on Facebook? You’re supposed to be checking your work email.”
“I know, I know. I need to get off here before I get sucked into the vortex.” She chuckled. “I’m following you on Instagram, by the way. Not that you’d ever notice. You have, like, a gazillion followers. And everything you post gets millions of likes. Seriously.”
Reid chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I’m hardly ever on there.”
“Really? Then who updates your page?”
“Aria.” He turned on the oven, setting the temperature on low to warm up the French bread. “She’s the one who insisted that I had to have an Instagram account. Since it was her idea, she volunteered to maintain the page for me. I only post occasionally. It’s not really my thing.”
“Thank God for your sister, then. She’s very social-media savvy. She really knows how to keep your fans engaged and excited, and she posts some fabulous pictures. Where does she get those amazing action shots from your games?”
“The team photographer.”
“They’re great,” Nadia raved. “She has the perfect balance between your personal and professional—”
Reid frowned. “I hope she’s not sharing personal pictures.”
“Only a few. And they’re very popular with your groupies. But then again,” Nadia said wryly, “those chicks go absolutely crazy over every new photo that’s posted. That sneak peek from your Gatorade commercial—the one where you’re wearing your hockey pants and an undershirt and you’re all sweaty? Holy shit, Reid. I’m surprised that picture didn’t break the Internet. It had over three million likes last I checked. And some of those women’s comments…Dude, you should seriously consider hiring a security detail for your own safety.”
Reid was only half listening, his mind working as he slid the loaf of French bread into the preheated oven. Nadia had just given him an idea. She probably wouldn’t go for it, but he had to put it out there.
Opening a package of spaghetti, he ventured casually, “So, listen, babe. Now that we’re—”
“Um…what the hell?”
He turned around to see Nadia frowning at her laptop screen. “What’s wrong?”
Her frown deepened. “Do you know a Holly Britt?”
He stiffened in surprise, his blood running cold. “Why?”
“She just sent me a friend request on Facebook. And she included a little note.”
No…no, no, fuck no!
Clenching his jaw, Reid strode across the room and stood over Nadia’s shoulder to look at her laptop screen. Sure enough, Holly had reached out to her on Facebook.
Her message read: We have a mutual love interest. Thought you might want to know what happened between us in Boston. Hint: They don’t call him The Rocket for nothing.
Reid glared at the screen, his chest tightening with fury. That conniving little bitch!
Nadia was staring up at him. “Who is she?”
He ground his back teeth together. “She’s my ex-girlfriend from college.”
“From college?”
He nodded shortly. “She came to the game when we played the Bruins during my rookie season. After that we started hooking up every time I came to town.”
“I see.” Nadia’s tone was cool, her eyes narrowed on his face. “Did you hook up with her when you were in Boston this past weekend?”
“No.” His voice was emphatic. “Absolutely not.”
He didn’t like the way Nadia was looking at him. With uncertainty. And suspicion.
“When you were in Boston,” she said evenly, “I asked you about catching up with your old college classmates. Why didn’t you mention Holly?”
“Because she’s not important,” Reid growled. “We barely dated in college, and since then we’ve only seen each other once a year. We had a casual arrangement that worked for both of us. But I had no intention of contacting her this weekend. When she showed up at my hotel room, I told her we couldn’t see each other anymore. She was upset, and now she’s trying to get back at me.”
Nadia chewed on her lip, searching his face. She looked like she wanted to believe him, but was afraid to. Given the painful things she’d just shared with him, he couldn’t blame her for being leery. He had to convince her that he was telling the truth.
He gestured to her laptop. “May I?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded and slid the laptop over.
He sat down next to her, accepted Holly’s friend request and then fired off a scathing response to her: This is Reid. Why are you trying to start some shit? We both know nothing happened in Boston. Don’t play yourself like this. It’s embarrassing.
He frowned and leaned back in the chair, drumming his fingers on the table.
“What’re you waiting for?” Nadia asked him.
“I know Holly didn’t expect me to respond to her message,” he explained. “If she insists on claiming that we slept together, then you and I can continue this conversation until the issue is resolved to your satisfaction. But if she ignores my message or responds with an insult, you’ll know she’s lying.”
Nadia bit her lip, trying not to look anxious.
Reid reached over and touched her cheek. “Holly’s a troublemaker. Don’t let her get in your head.”
“She’s not,” Nadia mumbled. “I just hate dealing with ‘other woman’ drama. It’s so messy.”
“There’s no other woman,” Reid told her. “You’re it.”
Just then the laptop chimed to indicate a new message. He and Nadia leaned forward together to read Holly’s response: Bastard.
Reid chuckled darkly and gave Nadia an “I told you so” look.
“Ohhkay, then.” She looked amused, disgusted, and a little relieved.
He passed the laptop back. “Unfriend her and block her.”
She nodded, her fingers already flying over the keyboard.
“While you’re at it, you should change your settings so that complete strangers can’t send you messages.”
“Good idea.” She gave him a sideways glance. “So…do you have a fuck buddy stashed away in every city you visit?”
He scowled. “No.”
Her skeptical expression got under his skin.
He shoved a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, baby, I’m not gonna lie to you. When we’re on the road, we meet a lot of women whose only goal in life is to sleep with a hockey player so they can brag to their friends. They hang around the arena after games, follow us to bars and try to sneak
into our hotel rooms. I’ve never pretended to be a Boy Scout. I’m a man with a healthy libido, and I enjoy getting laid.” His voice softened. “But here’s the thing, Nadia. Ever since we met, I haven’t wanted any other woman. You’re all I can think about. You’ve got me daydreaming about you and singing Justin Timberlake songs.” He smiled. “And that’s not a bad thing.”
He could see the corners of her mouth tipping up in the barest hint of a smile. But she said nothing.
Reid covered her hand with his, looking into her eyes. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to trust me. It’s the only way this relationship can work.”
Her lashes flickered downward, concealing her eyes. After another moment, she took a deep breath and nodded slowly, as if she’d reached a decision.
“I—” She was interrupted by the sudden chime of her laptop, signaling a new Facebook message.
Reid frowned as she returned her attention to the screen to read the message.
He watched her, tension knotting his shoulders. “Who is it?”
Her expression was carefully blank. “No one.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No one?”
“It’s not Holly, if that’s what you’re wor— Hey!” she protested when he grabbed her laptop and swiveled it toward him.
He quickly scanned the message she’d just received. It was from some dude named Jarrett.
Hey, Nadia. Haven’t talked to you in a while. Wanted to see if you’d like to have dinner again. Are you free on Saturday? BTW, a friend just told me you’re going out with that hockey player Reid Holden. But I didn’t believe her. I know you don’t get down like that. Let me know about Saturday.
Nadia was frowning and shaking her head at Reid. “Seriously—”
“Who the fuck is Jarrett?”
Her eyes widened at his harsh tone. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Who’s Jarrett?”
She snatched her laptop back. “Just some guy.”
“Some guy you went on a date with.”
“That’s right.”
“Where’d you meet him?” Reid’s voice was barely above a growl.
“Our fathers are in the same fraternity. They introduced us to each other at a picnic over the summer.”
Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) Page 23