Love Happens

by Claudia Burgoa

  JP took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw. Forced a smile to his face, as if the joking and teasing didn’t bother him. “Doesn’t matter what you think. I have a date tonight, and I plan on enjoying it. And getting to know her. And asking for a second date.”

  And a third and a fourth as well, though he didn’t tell them that. There was something about Emily, something he couldn’t quite explain, that tantalized him, held his interest captive.

  Ian opened his mouth, no doubt to say something sarcastic, but JP just shook his head and skated away. Let them think what they would, he didn’t care.

  The three of them would be in a bar somewhere tonight, surrounded by strangers trying to get close to them for all the wrong reasons. JP didn’t envy their night’s plans.

  Not when he had a date this evening with a beautiful woman—a night he hoped would be the first of many more to come.

  Emily adjusted the wrap around her shoulders, pulling it closer as she tried to stay warm. She stepped closer to the wall, off to the side so she wouldn’t be in the way of the couples and groups entering the restaurant.

  And called herself a fool for coming tonight, for falling for the easy charm and smoldering eyes of an accented stranger. Yet she couldn’t quite make herself leave, not yet.

  Five more minutes. She’d give him five more minutes and then she’d find a taxi to take her back to her apartment. She’d kick off the ridiculous heels she was wearing and throw the simple black dress into the corner of her small bedroom. Then she’d dress in her baggy flannel pajama pants and a cozy sweater and curl up on her sofa.

  And try not to weave a fantasy around those smoldering brown eyes while convincing herself that it was all her fault for being so gullible. That’s exactly what she was: gullible. She’d bought JP’s lines with almost no hesitation, had eagerly accepted his invitation to the fancy restaurant, had let herself believe this was a real date.

  Except she was one person shy of the two required to have a date.

  She looked around once more, her eyes scanning the busy street and crowded sidewalk. Downtown was busy tonight, which shouldn’t surprise her. It was, after all, a Friday night. And the weather had been warm the last few days, mild for November. Maybe not mild enough for the simple dress and wrap she was wearing, but she had wanted to look nice and none of her coats went with the dress.

  Then again, she hadn’t planned on being outside for so long. And she didn’t want to go inside and wait. That felt too obvious, too desperate almost, since she was sure people would be staring at her and wondering what she was doing, sitting there by herself.

  She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears, frowned when her fingers met air. Her hair was pulled back tonight, in a simple twist that exposed her cheeks and neck. She curled her fingers against her palm, resisting the urge to pull the clip from her hair. Silly, so silly. Trying to impress a complete stranger—

  “Emily!”

  The sound of her name being called startled her and she took a hasty step back, bumping into the brick wall of the building. She didn’t have to look to see who was calling her, not when she recognized the voice. And how could that be? She shouldn’t recognize his voice, she didn’t know him well enough to recognize him.

  But she did.

  Her mind completely emptied of all rational thought when she noticed JP hurrying toward her. How could she think, when he looked like that? Tall, lean, dressed in a charcoal gray suit tailored for his build. His dark hair had been swept off his high forehead, all except one small hunk which hung forward. He reached up and pushed it away as he approached her, a crooked grin teasing his lips.

  And then he was standing there, right beside her, his hand reaching for hers. A frown creased his face and he looked down, wrapped his second hand around hers.

  “You are cold. You should be inside, where it’s warm.”

  She looked past him, away from those alluring brown eyes that seemed to twinkle in the light of the street lamp. “I wasn’t sure where to meet …” Her voice drifted off when he raised his hand to her mouth and grazed her knuckles with his lips.

  “Let’s go inside, you need to warm up.”

  She wanted to shake her head, to tell him she was already warm—and she was. Uncomfortably warm, now that he was beside her, his hands gently cradling hers. But he didn’t wait for her to speak, didn’t seem to expect her to say anything as he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her into the fancy restaurant.

  Emily didn’t understand the looks they received when they walked in, or the way eyes followed them as they were shown to their secluded table. A few people called out to him, smiling and waving. JP nodded but kept walking, not stopping to talk.

  “Do you come here a lot?” Emily asked as the maître d’ held the chair out for her then handed her a menu. JP took his own seat, waved his hand at the maître d’, then leaned forward and smiled.

  “No, this is my first time. But I’ve been assured the food is wonderful.”

  “Oh.” Emily glanced at the menu, a frown creasing her face when she noticed the prices weren’t listed next to the meals. Nerves twisted her stomach when she realized just how fancy this restaurant was.

  “And you? Have you been here before?”

  “Me?” Emily looked up, felt herself smiling. “No, my first time. I just thought … well, it seems like you know a lot of people here, that’s all.”

  JP’s grin grew wider, turning into a full smile that sent heat spiraling throughout her. She looked away and reached for her water glass, wondering if he noticed the small trembling in her fingers.

  “No, I don’t know anybody here.”

  The waiter appeared with a bottle of wine before Emily had a chance to question his statement. And the arrival of the wine surprised her because JP hadn’t ordered any, not unless she had completely missed it.

  No, she wouldn’t have missed that. She was distracted, but not that distracted.

  JP went through the motions of inspecting the wine, giving a nod of approval and saying something in French. The waiter smiled and filled her glass, turning to do the same for JP before placing the bottle in an elegant floor stand.

  Then they were alone again and Emily had no idea what to say. Or do. Or how to act. She didn’t have to because JP raised his glass, those deep brown eyes focusing on her.

  “To a beautiful night with a beautiful woman.”

  Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she could stop them. At least she didn’t do something silly, like stammer or look away. She was helpless to stop the blush creeping across her cheeks but she managed to raise her own glass with a brief smile. “Thank you.”

  JP took a sip of the wine, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her over the rim of the glass. “You still don’t believe me?”

  Emily laughed, the sound catching her off guard even as it somehow relaxed her. She took another sip then placed the glass on the table. “No, not really. But thank you.”

  “Ah. A challenge.”

  “A challenge? I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t believe I find you beautiful. So now I must work harder to make you believe, eh?”

  Emily watched him for a brief second then shook her head and looked away, her laughter more uninhibited this time. “I think you enjoy flirting too much.”

  He grinned and shrugged. “Maybe. But I only speak the truth. You are beautiful.”

  Emily didn’t have a chance to respond because a man approached their table, a friendly smile on his face. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  JP looked up. The smile didn’t leave his face but Emily was certain she saw a flash of annoyance in his eyes. The man either didn’t notice it, or chose to ignore it as he held his hand out for a handshake.

  “I just wanted to tell you that was a great game last night.”

  “Thank you.” JP shook the man’s hand then shifted in the chair.

  “And that shot you made. That was just
beautiful. Perfect.”

  JP nodded, his smile still in place as he glanced over at Emily then shifted again. Was she imagining things, or did he actually look uncomfortable? No, he really did look uncomfortable, from the way he kept shifting in the seat to the small blush staining his cheeks.

  “I hate to ask but, could I get your autograph?” The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen and paper. Emily looked from him to JP and back again, not quite understanding what was going on.

  JP gave her a small smile, this one a little tight with discomfort, then scrawled his name on the paper and handed it back to the man.

  “Thanks. My son is a huge fan.”

  “Of course.” JP kept smiling but it sounded like he didn’t believe the words. The man shoved the paper back into his pocket then glanced at Emily. He must have finally realized that JP wasn’t alone.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening. I’ll be watching the game on Sunday, hoping you guys can do it again.”

  “Of course, no problem.” JP nodded, his gaze focused on the silverware spread in front of him. Emily watched the man walk away then turned to face JP. Minutes went by before he finally met her gaze, the blush still fanning across his cheeks.

  “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

  “It is nothing, mon ange.” He reached for the glass of wine and took a hasty sip. “So, have you decided what you would like to eat?”

  Emily closed the menu and pushed it away. “Not so fast.”

  For some reason, JP’s discomfort and embarrassment made her more comfortable. It made no sense, unless it was just a simple matter that his reactions made him seem more human. More normal. She leaned across the table, her gaze holding his.

  “What did I miss?”

  “It was nothing—”

  “Yes, it was. What aren’t you telling me? Who are you?”

  The flush deepened and he fidgeted in the chair. A few seconds went by before he released a heavy sigh and met her gaze with his own uncomfortable one. “I told you.”

  “You told me your name. Now tell me who you are.”

  Another minute of fidgeting, broken only when he reached for his glass again. Then he sighed and leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumping in a posture of defeat. “I play for The Baltimore Banners.”

  The name sounded vaguely familiar to Emily but she couldn’t place it, not right away. A minute went by before everything clicked.

  The Baltimore Banners.

  The professional ice hockey team.

  She didn’t follow them, didn’t know enough about hockey to know who the players were. But she wasn’t totally oblivious, either.

  JP was a hockey player. A professional hockey player. And he had actually asked her out?

  Her gaze snapped to JP, her eyes widening in disbelief. She grabbed her wine glass and took a long swallow, then looked back at him.

  “Holy crap.”

  JP stood just inside the door, his hands jammed into the pockets of his trousers as Emily moved around the small room, turning on lights. She was talking, making nervous excuses for the small size of the apartment, saying something about not having a chance to clean.

  JP didn’t care about the size of her apartment. And there could be a pile of garbage ten feet high in the middle of the room and he wouldn’t have noticed it. He only noticed Emily. How she had kicked off those sexy black heels as soon as they stepped inside. The way a few strands of hair had come loose and curled around her neck. The way her hands seemed to flutter as she tossed the heavy wrap across the back of the sofa and fluffed a pillow. The way her eyes darted to his, barely landing on him before flitting away.

  Her nervousness was charming. Refreshing, even. He didn’t want her to be nervous. No, he wanted her in his arms. Wanted to feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. Wanted to hear her soft sighs as he learned every inch of her.

  He shoved his hands even deeper into his pockets and shifted, trying to get comfortable. Easier said than done, considering his cock had sprung to life two hours ago.

  All the more reason for him to stay where he was. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Emily off—and he was pretty sure that jumping her would do exactly that. She wasn’t like other women he knew, wasn’t looking for only one thing from him.

  He didn’t want to screw this up. He didn’t know what it was about Emily, why he seemed so drawn to her. But he was, and that was it. No, he didn’t want to screw this up.

  She paused, finally looked over at him with a small frown. “You don’t have to stand over there. You can sit down. I mean, if you want to. Maybe you have to leave?”

  There it was again, that tremor of uncertainty in her soft voice. Like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. More like she wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with her. He’d noticed the change as soon as she found out who he was—like she couldn’t believe he had asked her out. He had so hoped to keep it a secret, at least for tonight.

  She kept watching him, her hands twisting in front of her. So he gave her a bright smile and moved toward the small sofa, taking a seat near the end. He held his hand out, silently inviting her to sit with him. She hesitated, long enough that he thought she’d refuse.

  “Come. Sit with me. I won’t bite.” He wiggled his fingers, his smile widening when she finally took his hand. He tugged, pulling her to the sofa next to him. Close, but not too close. Not on his lap, like he wanted.

  And he should have never thought that, not when he could too easily imagine the firmness of her ass cupped against his hard-on. He swallowed a groan and draped his arm over her shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t notice the hard length of his cock straining against the wool trousers.

  He shifted, turning so he was facing her, and lightly ran the tip of his fingers along the back of her neck. She stiffened for just a second, her lids fluttering before she relaxed against his touch.

  “Did you have fun tonight?”

  Her gaze darted to his, the blue of her eyes so deep, so dark. He could lose himself in her gaze, willingly drown himself in their depths.

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. It was my pleasure.”

  A small flush caressed her cheeks and she looked away, her teeth pulling on her lower lip. The sight sent another surge of desire ripping through him. Potent, powerful. Consuming.

  Odd, that word. Consuming. But that described what he wanted—what he needed—so perfectly. He wanted to be consumed by Emily, wanted to devour her as she devoured him. Wanted to be lost in her touch, her taste, her kisses.

  Her body.

  JP swallowed another groan and shifted again, his fingers never stopping their gentle caress along her neck. Did she feel any of what he felt? Possibly. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

  He traced the column of her neck, carefully ran the tips of his fingers across her cheek. Down, tracing the delicate line of her jaw, the fullness of her lower lip. Soft, sensuous.

  Her head turned toward him, her eyes wide and filled with surprise. JP caught her gaze, held it as he continued stroking her lower lip. Then he leaned forward and claimed her mouth with his. Gentle, soft. Seeking, learning.

  The banked fires of desire erupted inside him, their flames scorching him. Her mouth opened on a small gasp of surprise. He took merciless advantage, thrusting his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth. She sighed again and pressed closer, her hand coming between them to rest against his chest.

  He cupped the back of her head, deepened the kiss as she clung to him. Soft whimpers curled around them, tiny little noises of desire that heated his blood. And still he kissed her, drinking in her sweetness, quenching a thirst he hadn’t known existed. The strength of his need startled him, his mind telling him to slow down.

  His body demanding surrender.

  And still he kissed her, their tongues meeting. Slow at first, tentative. Almost shy as each learned the other. Then bolder, heavy s
trokes and thrusts, deep and demanding. Possessing, claiming.

  JP pulled the clip from her hair, felt soft strands cascade against the back of his hand. Silky smooth, warm and vibrant. He threaded his fingers through the strands and tightened his hold on the back of her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and shifted, moaning as she sprawled across his lap. She stiffened, just for a second, then uttered her own little moan as she wiggled against him.

  Against the hard length of his cock.

  JP broke the kiss, pulled away and gazed into her eyes. Wide, the pupils large, the deep blue glazed with passion. He leaned forward, dragged his mouth along the column of her throat, moaned when her head tilted back. He pressed a kiss against the pulse beating hard under delicate skin, reached out and ran one hand along the length of her leg. Smooth skin, warm and firm, alive beneath his touch.

  She sighed, the sound soft and low as he trailed his fingers along her calf, behind her knee, up her thigh. Stopped just above the hem of her dress, trailed them back down again. Over and over as his mouth caressed her neck, the delicate line of her collarbone.

  Her hands dug into his shoulders, her bottom pressing against his throbbing cock. She lifted her head, her lips parting as her mouth searched for his. Another kiss, this one deeper, wilder. Untamed.

  JP pulled her closer, pressed his hips against the firmness of her ass and groaned. Need filled him, desperate, clawing, demanding. He slid his fingers under her dress, tracing lines along the sensitive flesh of her thigh. Higher, until he reached the lacy edge of fabric covering her heat. He dipped his finger inside the elastic, swallowed her small cry as he slid his finger along her clit.

  He pulled his mouth from hers, his breaths nothing more than harsh gasps as he watched her. Her lids fluttered open, her eyes wide and dazed as he stroked her clit. Over and over, harder, her hips meeting each stroke, her ass pressing against his erection, a sweet torture he didn’t want to end.

  And it wouldn’t end. Not tonight. Not here. Not for him. This was about her, about his Emilie.

  He pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered, quiet words in French and English. Over and over as his strokes grew bolder, relentless, driving her to the edge.