“Yes, I could tell.” Danny’s smile widened a bit, but only for a second. “You weren’t doing a very good job of hiding your feelings—which is why the thanks for the latter still stands.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Lori placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Danny means because he’s gay. Because this is a gay bar. Not everyone would be comfortable with that.”
“Then fuck them.”
Silence greeted his very loud statement, which coincided with the ending of the current song. Corbin’s face heated as fifty sets of eyes turned his way. A few of the men around them started clapping and cheering, which only embarrassed him more. He reached for the fresh mug of beer, pulling it toward him in an effort to hide his face.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out quite so loud, eh?”
“Don’t apologize, it was perfect. And that deserves at least one more round.”
Corbin started to shake his head, to tell the other man he didn’t another round—of anything. But Lori beat him to it.
“No. No more shots. No more anything. He’s done. We’re done. It’s time to leave.” She grabbed her purse and coat from the back of her chair then pushed away from the table. “Danny, how are you getting home? You shouldn’t be driving.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure I have a ride for tonight.” He tilted his head to the side, nodding toward a man leaning against the bar, watching them. Lori looked over, recognition flaring in her eyes.
“OhmyGod, seriously? When did he get here?”
“About thirty minutes ago.”
“Did you know he was coming?”
“I may have, yes.”
“Is he just here to hang out or here to meet you?”
“We’re meeting.”
“OhmyGod, then why are you sitting here? You should be over there with him, not with us.”
“Anticipation, sweetheart. Makes a man more appreciative.” Danny slid a knowing glance at Corbin, one filled with hidden meaning. Only Corbin had no idea what that meaning was and he couldn’t exactly ask because Danny was already pushing away from the table.
He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss against Lori’s cheek, then laughed at Corbin’s scowl. “Even knowing you’re completely safe with me, he’s a tad protective. I think I like that in a man.”
Danny walked away with a quick wave, his friends following, leaving the two of them alone. Lori shrugged into her coat then stood there, looking down at Corbin. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“To leave.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” Corbin stood up, then grabbed the edge of the table for balance. He blinked, bringing the room back into focus, and looked down to see Lori laughing at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You are. Come on.” She wrapped her arm around his waist, leading them across the bar. Cold air washed over him as soon as they pushed through the door and he paused long enough to fill his lungs with it. Then they were walking around the corner to the small gravel parking lot, stopping when they reached his car.
“Where are your keys?”
“In my pants pocket, why?”
“Because I need your keys to drive, that’s why.”
“You’re driving?”
“Well you’re certainly not.”
“Oh.” He frowned, then finally nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
Lori stood there, watching him. Waiting. She sighed and rolled her eyes, then held out her hand. “Keys?”
“They’re in my pocket.”
“I know, you said that already. Can you get them for me?”
Corbin grinned and shook his head. “No. If you want them, you get them.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, a second before her laughter spread around him. Soft and warm. Comforting. Then she jammed her hand into his front pocket, her fingers searching then abruptly stilling. Her head tilted back, her eyes no longer laughing as she watched him. Her fingers began moving again, slow, so slow as she traced the length of his aching cock.
“I don’t think that’s your keys.”
“No, I don’t think it is.” Corbin tilted his head, captured her mouth with his. He only wanted one kiss. Just one kiss then he’d pull away, pull the keys from his back pocket and let her drive him home.
But one kiss wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He pulled her closer, his hand curling around the curve of her ass. He needed to be closer…closer. Until he was a part of her, and she was a part of him. Until—
The shrill blare of a horn from a passing car jerked him back, reminded him where they were. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn’t, that was the problem. Now that he’d had a taste of her, now that he knew what it was like to be with her, he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.
But he had to. They were in a parking lot. In the middle of the night. In February.
He bit back a curse and stepped away, yanked the key fob from his back pocket and slapped it into the palm of her hand. Her fingers closed around it, something like desperation in her eyes as she hit the remote and unlocked the doors.
“My place okay?”
“Yeah. Perfect.” He yanked open the door and dropped into the passenger seat, pulled his seatbelt around him and waited for Lori to do the same. Then he closed his eyes and rested his head against the buttery softness of the leather seat, smiling as the powerful engine roared to life under him, dreaming of things to come.
Chapter Eighteen
Lori tilted her head, listening. Had that been movement she heard coming from upstairs? She stepped out of the kitchen, listening more closely. Her house was quiet, the only noise coming from the coffee machine behind her.
She tossed the dish towel over her shoulder then returned to the tray she was assembling. Toast, unbuttered—check. Glass of orange juice—check. Coffee, strong and black—almost ready. Ibuprofen, extra strength— she uncapped the bottle, started to shake out two then changed her mind and just placed the entire bottle on the tray. There, everything was ready. Now all she had to do was take it upstairs to her guest.
And make sure he was still alive.
A grin played around her mouth. This wasn’t exactly how she had planned to spend the morning after bringing Corbin home with her. Especially after that toe-curling kiss he’d planted on her in the parking lot. But maybe it was better this way. They’d have a chance to talk without sex getting in the way.
Not that she thought Corbin’s mind would be on sex right now. His head was probably pounding too much from all the drinking he’d done last night. Danny would have a lot to answer for when she saw him at work on Monday. What had he been thinking, buying as many rounds as he had and practically force-feeding them to Corbin? Not that Corbin had needed any extra encouragement tossing them back. At first, Lori thought he was trying to prove something, that maybe he wasn’t quite as comfortable with Danny as he pretended to be—which would have broken her heart. But that wasn’t it. In fact, she got the feeling the opposite was true—that he was so comfortable, he was actually able to relax enough that he didn’t have to worry about anything.
She just wished he hadn’t fallen asleep in the car the way he had.
She paused at the open door to her room, her eyes drinking in the sight of the man sleeping in her bed. Yes, she had a guest room. She could have just as easily put him in there last night. But he told her no, he wanted to be with her—then promptly fell face-first in the middle of her bed, fully clothed.
He wasn’t fully clothed now. She had managed to get off his shoes and socks, had managed to tug off his pants—which may have taken her a bit longer because she’d been enjoying it a little too much. The dark blue boxer briefs stayed safely in place, though. She did have some scruples—although it had been a close call.
The sweater had been more difficult, because she had to actually move him to get it off. The man was solid, nothing but pure muscle and hot flesh—and almost impossible to move when he was nothing but de
ad weight. That’s why she had left the white undershirt on—she couldn’t manage to go through the motions again to get it off.
He must have taken it off at some point in the middle of the night, though, because his arm had been wrapped around her waist, her back pressed against his bare chest when she woke up this morning.
Not that she was complaining.
He had taken over most of the bed as soon as she got out of it, though, and it didn’t look like he had moved since then. One arm was stretched out to the side, his hand loosely curled. The other arm was curled over his eyes, so she could only see the tip of his nose and his full mouth, relaxed in sleep. Stubble covered his jaw, a few shades darker than the hair on his head, thicker than she remembered it being the morning after she’d spent the night at his place.
The sheets were a tangled mess around his waist, the pale-yellow cotton even lighter against his skin. One bare leg, covered in hair the same dark blonde as the stubble on his chin, poked out from the sheets, his foot dangling over the edge of the bed.
She could stand here all day and simply watch him. Catalog the changes in his body from when she had seen him last. Not that she had seen this much of him back then, not even close. But she had seen enough—had been so acutely aware of him, even then—that it was easy to see the changes. His shoulders were broader, his arms thicker. His chest had filled out, his stomach was more defined. And his legs. God, his legs defied description. Long, with thick thighs and calves from all those years spent on the ice. Strong. Powerful. And the way they felt between hers, as he was sliding—
Lori gave herself a shake and forced herself to look at the wall. She did not need to be staring at Corbin like this, remembering how his body felt next to hers. In hers. Not now, not when she needed to wake him up. The Banners didn’t have practice today, she knew that much. But she had no idea if he had somewhere else he had to be, something else he had to do. It was already past nine in the morning, definitely time to stop wasting time.
Lori placed the tray on the nightstand then lowered herself to the edge of the bed. Should she tap him on the shoulder? Gently shake him? Or maybe just leaning forward and calling his name would be enough to wake him.
She reached out, hesitating for just a second, then placed her hand against his shoulder. His skin was hot and firm, begging for a touch. A kiss.
Lori rolled her eyes and pushed against his shoulder. “Hey, Sleepyhead. Time to get up.”
He groaned, the sound garbled and throaty, then shook his head. She nudged him again, a little harder this time.
“Corbin, time to wake up.”
“Mm-hmm.”
One more time, leaning a little closer. “Corbin—oomph!” She landed flat on her back in the middle of the bed, his warm weight resting on top of her. Sleepy brown eyes stared down at her, holding her in place even as her heart threatened to take off without her.
Lori waited for her heart to settle, waited for her breathing to slow down. Waited for Corbin to blink the haze of sleep from his eyes and finally recognize her. Only when she looked into his eyes, she realized he did recognize her—and he hadn’t been asleep, not if the crooked smile on his face meant anything.
“You’re not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Your coffee is getting cold.”
He dipped his head, brushed his lips against her ear. “Don’t care.”
“I brought aspirin—”
“Don’t need it.”
“You’re not hungover?”
“Non.” His lips trailed a hot path along her neck, behind her ear, across her cheek. She closed her eyes, her body already reaching toward him. Warm breath fanned across her mouth, sweet and minty.
Her eyes shot open and she stared at him. “You brushed your teeth.”
“Yes.”
“That’s cheating.”
He pulled back, surprise etched on his face. “How is that cheating?”
“Because now I can’t use morning breath as an excuse.”
He chuckled, the sound deliciously warm and sexy, his mouth dangerously close to hers. She turned her head to the side and pushed against his bare chest. “We need to talk.”
He froze, muttered something in French, then rolled off her with a sigh. She pushed up on her elbows, thought about simply scooting back and leaning against the headboard, then thought better of it. That would put her too close to Corbin, with his bare chest and sleep-sexy eyes and—she glanced down at where the sheet had been covering him, saw the rigid outline of his thick erection straining against the cotton of his briefs.
She made a small sound, an odd cross between a groan and a whimper, then slid across the bed and sat on the edge—away from the temptation that was Corbin. Then she noticed him watching her, noticed the crooked grin curling his full mouth and the gleam of mischief in his eyes. She rolled her eyes then slid closer to the end of the bed.
Just in case.
“How can you not be hungover?”
He took a long gulp of the coffee, watching her over the rim of the mug. He closed his eyes, an expression of pure joy crossing his face as he swallowed. Then he looked back at her, that crooked smile still in place. “I’m one of the lucky ones, I guess. Good thing, after those years in Vegas, eh?”
“All those years in Vegas?” She snorted. “Could have fooled me, with the way you crashed last night.”
A small blush raced across his face. He looked away, shrugged, toyed with the edge of the mug. “I did not plan on that, no. But I’m more than willing to make up for it—”
“Did you love her?” The question came out of nowhere, shocking her as much as it obviously shocked him. Or maybe shocked was the wrong word. The blush on his face disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. His lips pulled tight, their color fading to a chalky white.
Lori looked away, her gaze focused on the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business—”
“Non.” He cleared his throat, spoke again, his voice louder. “No, I did not love her.”
Lori nodded, not even sure if he was looking at her. She wanted to ask more questions—questions she had no right to ask. Why had he married? Why had he divorced? Had he called his wife cute little pet names as well, the way he called her ma cocotte?
No, she couldn’t ask him that. Ever. She didn’t want to know, couldn’t bear the thought of him using her pet name with another woman.
The bed shifted under her. She watched from the corner of her eye as he stood up, reached for the trousers she had carefully folded and placed across the small chair next to the bed. He stepped into them, pulled them up and snapped them with short, precise movements before turning toward her.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
Lori twisted to the side, quickly looked away at the intensity in his eyes. “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Then what did you want to talk about?” His voice was level, the accent that had been present moments ago gone.
“I just—you never told me why you came to see me last night.”
His shoulders relaxed as the tension left him. He ran a hand across his jaw, the rasp of stubble against his palm a whisper in the surrounding silence. Then he sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, his leg so close, she could feel the heat of it against hers.
“I met with my attorney yesterday. He thinks an agreement has been reached and that I can put everything behind me.”
“That fast?”
“That is what he said, yes.”
“So, now what? You write her a check and that’s it?”
Corbin nodded, his gaze not quite meeting hers. She wanted to ask how much. How much was a man’s reputation worth? How much was the payout for setting him up? Because she was certain, now more than ever, that it had been some kind of set-up.
But she didn’t dare ask. It wasn’t her business. And she was very much afraid of what she’d do to her n
eighbor if she ever found out.
“Well, I’m glad. Not that you have to pay her—there’s nothing right about that. But I’m glad you can put this behind you.” She offered him a smile that she didn’t quite feel and stood up, moving toward the tray on the nightstand. “And I’m glad we were able to help you celebrate last night, even if we didn’t know it at the time.”
Corbin reached for her hand, stopping her mid-step. She glanced down, watching as his thumb rubbed small circles against the back of her hand, felt the corresponding warmth of his touch spreading along her arm. Then she looked up, her gaze locking with his. Deep brown, warm, serious.
“That was why I came here last night, ma cocotte. To ask you out. On a proper date. And to see…” He cleared his throat and stood up, suddenly towering over her. Making her feel small and dainty.
And protected. Always protected.
He cupped the back of her head, his eyes never leaving hers. “And to see if maybe we can pick up where we left the last time I was here.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bare trees lined the side of the road, their naked branches dark shadows in the gray sky heavy with the promise of snow. Patchy snow, dirty with exhaust from traffic, littered grass still brown from winter’s cold. The snowy patches became more frequent, thicker and heavier and not quite so dirty, the further north they drove up I83. The landscape changed as well, office buildings and flat land giving way to farmhouses and rolling hills.
How long had it been since he’d been up this way? Nine years? Almost ten? Not since that March afternoon when he’d given the necklace to Lori, in the shadows of the big barn.
He had never expected to return. Certainly not today.
Corbin pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and shifted in the passenger seat. Lori leaned against the back of the driver’s seat, her mouth curved in a small smile, her left hand curled around the steering wheel.
Her right hand curled around his.
That was unexpected, too—how easy it had been to reach over and grab her hand. How natural it felt. How normal, for her fingers to be threaded with his. How many times had he ached to do that, all those years ago? Something as simple, as innocent, as holding her hand. But he’d never been able to, not even on those few occasions when she had tried. Silly, how something as innocent as holding hands had felt so forbidden to him back then.
Game Misconduct: A Baltimore Banners Hockey Romance (The Baltimore Banners Book 11) Page 13