Playing Dirty

by Taryn Leigh Taylor

  The sweetness of his words, even as they got down and dirty, melted her last little fortress of resistance, and her body relaxed.

  And that was when Cooper, the king of patience, finally pounced. He twisted his fingers deep inside her, and instead of replacing his thumb on her clit, his playoff stubble abraded the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as she tightened them around his head and the sudden wet heat of his tongue shocked her into orgasm, and she fell over the precipice, saying his name again and again as she came apart.

  8

  COOPER WOKE UP naked and alone after the best sleep he’d had in a long time. He stretched against the sheets and took stock of his surroundings—king-size bed, upscale furnishings, state-of-the-art TV. Pretty nice digs Lainey had secured for herself.

  His assessment made him realize that he’d been playing hockey long enough that he barely noticed the differences between hotel rooms when he was on the road anymore. They’d all blended together into one featureless room that felt more like home to him than his Portland condo did. Probably the reason he’d slept so well last night.

  Well, one of the reasons he’d slept so well.

  The other was nowhere to be seen, but her suitcase was on the small desk by the window, so he figured she hadn’t made a run for it. Cooper grabbed a quick shower, and was in the process of getting dressed when he heard the hotel room door swing open.

  Lainey tossed a fast-food bag at him when he stepped out of the bathroom, and he caught it against his bare chest.

  “I know how much you love breakfast.” She set the cardboard drink tray on the closest end table and pulled one of the cups free. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” Coop walked over to her, accepting the to-go cup, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are a goddess.”

  She blushed slightly and turned her head, grabbing the other coffee as he settled himself on the bed, back against the headboard. He dug through the bag, but there was only one breakfast sandwich inside. “You’re not having anything?”

  “I already ate mine,” she told him, taking a seat on the bed next to his feet.

  Cooper tried not to be bothered that she’d made a point of eating alone as he unwrapped his meal.

  “Slick, no. Come on. Why do you look disappointed right now? I brought you food.”

  “I just thought I could take you out for breakfast. But this is good.” He held up the sandwich. “Thanks for thinking of me.” Cooper indulged in a mouthful of greasy deliciousness. He probably should have turned it down and had something healthier, but what good was training like a beast if he couldn’t indulge every now and again?

  “These are some sweet accommodations you’ve got here.”

  She glanced around the room as though she, too, was seeing it for the first time. “Job perk. When I’m not restoring my absentee father’s dive bar so that it’s fit to sell, I travel the country as a hospitality consultant.”

  Coop paused midbite. “That’s a real job?”

  Her frown said that it was.

  “And what exactly does a hospitality consultant do?”

  She shrugged. “All kinds of stuff. Basically, hotels hire the company I work for to secret-shop them—I stay there, assess the staff, the cleanliness, the food, the amenities. Then I write up reports and action plans so they can work on their weak points and exploit their strong ones. Depending on their budget, sometimes I stay and implement staff training programs.”

  “So your entire job is to go from place to place and be super critical of people.” He nodded to himself. “Actually, it explains a lot about you.”

  “Like you get to cast aspersions? You chase around a piece of rubber and hit people for a living!” She chucked a pillow at him, and he laughed.

  “I meant it in a good way!”

  “You did not,” she countered, but her wry grin let him know she wasn’t offended. “But it’s been good. A perk of being one of Zenith’s top consultants is that I get first dibs on which jobs I want to take, so when I inherited the bar, I requested all the gigs in the area. That way I’d have a place to stay while I sold the bar, and I would stay in good standing at work.”

  “Win-win.”

  “It should have been. But this bar is taking forever to sell. If I can’t unload it soon, I’m going to have to look into hiring someone to run it until I get an offer.”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “This assignment ends in a week, and my supervisor is all over me to pick my next job, or she’ll pick one for me. I’ve run out of Portland hotels to grade, so it’s time to hit the road again.”

  “It must’ve been nice to be in one place for a while.”

  “Actually, I kind of miss being on the move. Portland is a bit suffocating, don’t you think?”

  Cooper used to feel that way, knew that craving to get to the next destination. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He was starting to like the idea of feeling more at home at his place than in a hotel.

  “Actually, I like it a lot more than I thought I would.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Lainey looked away first.

  “You working at the bar today?” he asked, following his question with another bite of breakfast sandwich.

  She shook her head. “Nah. Taking the day off.” She took a sip of caffeine. “How about you?”

  “Nothing on tap. Last day of freedom. Playoffs start tomorrow.”

  “Fun.” Her accompanying smile was so fake that he had to laugh.

  “What’s your beef with hockey anyway? Your dad obviously loved it.”

  Lainey’s look was a perfect marriage of scorn and disbelief. “And you’re citing that as a ‘pro’ in the hockey column?”

  “Your brother plays.”

  “He’s my half brother.”

  “I just think you’d like it if you gave it a chance.” He reached for the coffee he’d set on the end table and took a slurp. His mouth was suddenly dry. “Our first two games this round are at home. You should come to one. I can get you tickets.” Cooper was aiming for nonchalant. He just hoped he’d landed somewhere in the general vicinity, because the alternative was desperate.

  Lainey looked surprised at the offer. “I heard playoff tickets were sold out.”

  “When you’re on the team, there are ways of getting them.”

  “Oh.” She was looking anywhere but him. “Well, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so.”

  Cooper told himself it was a muscle twitch, not a flinch. He took another giant bite of his sandwich.

  “I told you before, Slick. I don’t do hockey.”

  “You said you didn’t do hockey players either,” he pointed out, his crass attempt at levity earning him a frown.

  “I said I didn’t date hockey players. And we are not dating.” Lainey frowned, more to herself than at him. “You’re just so into having breakfast together. And me coming to watch you play. It sounds like a man looking for a girlfriend, and I already told you I’m not into that.”

  Was he?

  He had to admit, the idea was not without some appeal. Maybe he was ready to settle down a little. At least spend more than one night with someone.

  “So that’s why you won’t let me take you out to breakfast?” he asked, finishing off the sandwich and shoving the wrapper back in the empty bag.

  “That’s part of it. I just... I’m not interested in the life you lead. Cameras in your face all the time. Reporters shoving microphones at you. People hounding you for autographs only to go and talk shit about you on the internet afterward.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a bit too much force behind her words.

  She wasn’t telling him everything. Her dad had played professional hockey when Lainey was a baby and the internet wasn’t even a thing, so it couldn’t be fallout from that. A
nd Brett and Lainey weren’t close enough that she could be angry on his behalf—the rookie was too small a fish in the sports world to have made much of a splash yet.

  “It can be a little overwhelming sometimes, I guess, but honestly it’s not that bad. I mean, being a pro athlete isn’t quite like being an actor or a rock star. I mean, sure, a few people recognize me here and there, stop me for a quick photo. More often than not I just get some double takes, sort of a ‘that guy seems familiar,’ but they can’t quite place me. Most people just walk by. Unless there’s a group of sports fans congregating, I can usually pass for a normal person.”

  She chuckled, and though it was a little forced, he was relieved to see her lighten up. She was so damn serious all the time. “Just throw on some sunglasses and a hat and see how the other half lives, huh?”

  He grinned. “Exactly. In fact, let me prove to you how unglamorous my life can be. Let’s go somewhere. Hang out in the world.”

  Lainey gave him a look of exaggerated contemplation as she took another swig of her coffee.

  The seconds that ticked by felt like hours.

  “Okay. But I get to pick the place,” she stipulated.

  The knot in Cooper’s gut loosened, and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t meant to hold. “Lainey, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  * * *

  COOPER SHOVED HIS hands in his pockets and tried not to look bored. They’d been in the used bookstore for a ridiculously long time. The library smell of the place was giving him horrible flashbacks of research essays and homework.

  “Isn’t this place the best?”

  “I guess so.” Cooper reached into one of the bins and pulled out a beat-up pulp fiction novel that had a picture of a Tyrannosaurus rex brandishing some sort of space blaster and shooting up buildings. After inspecting it for a moment, he tossed it back on top of the pile. “Books aren’t really my thing.”

  “Too cool for school,” she said with a knowing grin, as she adjusted the four massive textbooks in her arms. “I should have known.”

  It was a playful jibe, but that was exactly the way he’d made it through his school years. Pouring every moment into hockey, into training, into impressing his classmates until his bad grades meant nothing and his on-ice prowess made him one of the popular kids. Until he was a quintessential Canadian jock, his sights set on the big league, on hockey superstardom. And he’d done it, he reminded himself.

  Which was why he was standing there with a smart, beautiful woman teasing him. And she could say what she wanted about not wanting to live her life in public, but he knew that if his life was more private, she wouldn’t be standing with him now. Fame was his smokescreen, the disguise he donned to keep people from discovering his weaknesses. She didn’t know, he reminded himself. He’d kept his dyslexia under wraps for over a decade. There was no reason his chest should feel tight.

  Cooper reached over and grabbed the books from her. “I’ll carry them.”

  Her smile softened and she glanced away from him, the tip of her dark ponytail brushing his biceps. They started meandering toward the cash register. “How about you? Judging by the weight of your purchase, I’m gonna guess you were a straight-up nerd.”

  She smiled sweetly and gave him the finger before stopping to flip through yet another huge book with a spine that was three inches thick.

  “No one buying these books skipped university.”

  She glanced up from her perusal of the tome and he leaned one elbow on the top of the shelf beside her after a casual shrug.

  “College. Whatever you Americans call it.”

  She laughed at that. “Yes, our Americanisms are so exotic and difficult for you foreigners to grasp. How long have you lived here now?”

  Cooper grinned, realizing that hanging out in a bookstore with a sexy, intelligent, smart-mouthed woman might not be quite as boring a way to spend an afternoon as he’d originally thought. And that he was genuinely curious to know more about her.

  “Okay, college girl. Spill. What did you study? Did you have a sordid affair with your professor? Did his tweed blazer have elbow patches on it?”

  “I went to college. No illicit affairs, despite the prevalence of tweed and elbow patches. After the divorce, Mom and I were on our own and money was tight. I didn’t want my mom to have to live paycheck to paycheck anymore. A degree in commerce seemed like the way to go. And it fostered my obsession with textbooks.” She lifted the one in her hands as evidence.

  The answer surprised the hell out of him. Even with a midrange contract, Martin Sillinger should have been able to take care of his daughter and ex-wife.

  “What happened with your family?” he asked.

  Lainey sighed as she closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf, but he saw the way her shoulders slumped. “It’s a long, sordid story, rife with clichés.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  For a moment, he thought she was going to tell him, but then she lifted her chin and shuttered the pain in her eyes. “Things change. The end.” The finality in her voice was reinforced by the quickening of her pace as she resumed their earlier trajectory toward the cashier.

  Cooper was so taken aback by the abruptness of her departure that he had to jog a few steps to catch up with her, despite his longer legs. “Lainey?” He hoisted the books into a more comfortable position against his forearm. “Talk to me.”

  She stopped, turned to face him, looking so fragile that it made his chest ache. “I—”

  “Elaine? Elaine Sillinger? Is that you? Oh, my gosh! Hi!”

  Cooper and Lainey both turned toward the intruder, a stocky blonde woman with short hair and a toothy smile. Coop could feel the tension rolling off Lainey as she stiffened beside him, and the sudden pallor of her skin made it clear that she did not share the woman’s joy over this unexpected reunion.

  “Shelly Harris.” Lainey’s voice sounded brittle.

  “Shelly Gardner now!” The blonde held up her left hand, pointing unnecessarily at the massive rock adorning her finger. “Kent and I weren’t even going to get married, and now we’re total suburbanites—two kids, a dog, a minivan, the whole deal.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Shelly smiled bigger, which Cooper had doubted was possible a moment ago. “Thank you. I’m really happy. And you? What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you since...wow, since Vancouver, I guess. Are you still playing hockey?”

  Cooper’s gaze snapped to Lainey as the bombshell dropped. She blinked a few times, opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Cooper took a step forward. “She doesn’t. I do. I keep trying to convince her to come watch a game sometime, but I’m not having much luck.” He held out a hand, and Shelly’s eyes widened as she shook it and he didn’t get a chance to introduce himself.

  “Oh, wow! Cooper Mead. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just surprised to see Elaine. It’s great to have you playing for Portland. We needed some defense. My husband is going to die when he finds out I met you. Do you mind?”

  She held up her phone, and Cooper dutifully ducked into the frame beside her.

  “Elaine, get in here! I want a photo with you, too.”

  A few snaps later, Shelly had stowed her phone but was still talking a mile a minute.

  Cooper didn’t like the dazed, not-quite-there look on Lainey’s face.

  “I can’t wait to let the girls know I ran into you! Lindsay still holds a team reunion every year, but we’ve never been able to find you.” Shelly glanced conspiratorially at Cooper. “Your girl is a ghost on social media. Impossible to find. But seriously, Elaine. You should totally come this year.”

  Lainey’s wan smile was all Coop could take.

  “Well, Shelly, it’s been a pleasure and I’m sure Lainey would love to stay and catch up, but we’re late for a dinner thing, so...
” Cooper elbowed Lainey, and the shove broke her stupor.

  “Yes. Dinner thing. I’m sorry, Shelly. We’ve got to get going. But it was nice to see you.”

  “Okay. Well, stay in touch. Really good to see you.”

  Lainey grabbed Coop by the arm and tugged him forward.

  “I’m on Facebook!” Shelly yelled after them.

  “You play hockey?” Astonishment lifted Coop’s brows. “How did I not know this about you? I mean, way to bury the lede!”

  “I played hockey. Past tense.”

  “So the Ice Queen title...you’re telling me that isn’t just about idiotic bar patrons.”

  Lainey’s expression was one of sad resignation. “It is now. But no, it didn’t used to be.”

  She looked up at him, her gray-blue eyes damp and mournful, and the bleak expression made him frown.

  “What’s wrong?” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, raised it to cup her face.

  She closed her eyes, and for just a second, he thought she might have pressed her cheek against his palm, but the sensation was so fleeting, he couldn’t be sure. By the time she opened her eyes again, she was back to her stoic, if somber, self.

  “I know I deserve every sarcastic comeback brewing in your mind right now after my hard stance on hockey players and not going to your game, but do me a solid and save them for later? I just want to pay for my books and get out of here.”

  “Yeah, sure. My treat.”

  She smiled in thanks, and that fragility he’d glimpsed earlier shimmered around her again.

  They drove back to the hotel in silence, and when he parked in front of the door, Lainey was frowning at her phone.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she said, then relented at Cooper’s dubious expression. “My Realtor just texted to say the guy who was supposed to tour the bar this morning never showed.”

  “That sucks. How come?”

  “She doesn’t know. He’s not answering his phone now.”

  “It happens. Business deals fall through.”

  Lainey locked her screen before tucking the phone back in her purse. “It’s starting to feel like I’m doomed to own this dive in perpetuity. The Drunken Sportsman is my purgatory.”