by Jennie Marts
“I mean it. Those woman are all going to be jealous of you.”
She grinned. “Just because I’m on your arm.”
He reached up and touched the corner of her lip. A chill ran down her spine, and butterflies quivered in her stomach. “No. Because you’re gorgeous, and you look amazing in this dress.”
“Let me at least carry the gifts. Then I’ll have something to hold on to.” She grabbed the presents from the back seat and crushed them against her chest.
“You can hold on to me.” The valet signaled him, and he moved forward in the line.
They pulled up to the red carpet, and he gave her hand another squeeze before the valet opened the car door. Cameras flashed, and she heard murmured questions about who she was. She felt like a movie star as she stepped on to the red carpet. And nervous as hell. Was it too late to jump back in the car and get Owen to take her for pizza and a movie instead?
She took a tentative step forward.
Oh God, what if she tripped? Her hands trembled with nerves—then Owen was there.
His strong arm wrapped around her waist, and he looked down and gave her a heart-stopping grin. “I got you.”
Yes. He did. He had her heart right in the center of his powerful hand.
She wasn’t sure exactly when she’d given it to him, but it was his just the same. There was no choice and no going back now. He could crush it or cherish it, but it belonged to him.
She smiled, leaning against his solid frame, and stood tall as he guided her up the red carpet. Obviously used to this, he was a pro at pausing for a picture, turning them toward a camera, and playing the crowd. He stopped to sign a couple of autographs, usually for kids. But after each time, he wrapped his arm back around her and always made sure she was his focus.
By the time they reached the door, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but she couldn’t help it. She was having a great time.
They stepped through the door and left the noise of the reporters behind.
She let out a breath. “Geez. Is it always like that? That was crazy.”
Owen nodded. “Yeah, big events like these draw a lot of reporters. You’ll probably see some celebrities tonight and some big-name athletes.”
He was obviously a big name athlete. Lots of reporters had wanted to snap shots of him. Was this normal for him, or how much of that had to do with the Twitter buzz from the day before?
She gave him a questioning look. “You seemed like you were really good at that. Like you were having fun. That’s so different from how you’re portrayed in most of your pictures. It’s hard to find pictures of you even smiling. Why does it seem like the only pictures of you that reporters normally snap having you frowning or looking sullen?”
“Because I’m usually pissed at them being there, or I’ve been hounded by posers wanting to hang out with me all night. I’m also a defenseman so it’s my job to come across as mean and tough, like no one can get through me.”
“You didn’t seem very mean and tough tonight.”
He smiled down at her—a smile filled with mischief. “That’s because I didn’t feel pissed or angry. I was having fun.” He leaned down and brushed a quick kiss just below her ear. “You make me kind of happy.”
His voice was low and husky in her ear, and heat shot through her. She didn’t how to respond—couldn’t speak if she tried. All she could do was smile, like her face was permanently fixed in a grin.
The corner of his lip tipped up in amusement, and he pulled her against him. “How do you know what I usually look like in pictures? Did you google me?”
She laughed. “Possibly. I may have looked up a few pictures of you.” A few hundred. She’d spent more time than she’d intended on the internet last night searching out stories and pictures of him. Every one that she saw only made her hungry for more.
It made her sad seeing so many photos of him looking unhappy and scared the hell out of her to read the captions depicting him as an elusive womanizing playboy.
She’d resolved the night before to keep this fun and easy. He was a good-looking guy who wanted to hang out with her. No harm in that. She’d decided to go with it. Enjoy being teased and flirted with. She was smart enough to know something with him wouldn’t last, so why not enjoy it while it did. As long as she didn’t start to care about him.
Oops. Too late for that. Her resolutions had flown out the door when she’d opened it and saw him standing there wearing a tux and a heart-breaking smile.
A throng of people pushed through the door, and he chuckled and led her into the ballroom. He presented their tickets to a gorgeous woman holding a clipboard and wearing an eye-popping gold and black dress.
“Thank you, Mr. Bannister. You’ll be seated at table eight. The kids will sit at the table with you and have their seats already assigned. This packet should help answer any questions you have. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” The woman gave Owen a sultry once-over, but he didn’t take the bait.
Instead, he offered her a polite thank you, took the folder and led Gabby toward their table.
She glanced at the name cards. “It looks like the kids assigned to us are Marnie and Benjamin.”
They took their chairs as a large group of kids were shepherded in at the front of the room. The majority of the kids seemed quiet and shy in the big room filled with people, but a few of them were acting up and running in circles. All of them were dressed in their holiday best, and the girls had their hair curled and adorned with ribbons and sparkly bows.
A harried looking woman ushered two kids to their table and introduced them. “Hi, there. This is Marnie and Benjamin. They’re both in fourth grade. They will be sitting at your table for the meal. We’re having the kids eat before the G-I-F-T-S.”
The boy looked up at her and gave her an exaggerated sigh. “We’re in fourth grade. We know how to spell.” He had blond hair and wore small wire-rimmed glasses. A cowlick stuck up from the back of his head, and he looked like a cross between Harry Potter and Dennis the Menace.
The woman smiled apologetically. “Of course you do. Have fun.” She got the kids seated and moved on to the next set of children.
Gabby smiled at the kids. “Hi. I’m Gabby, and this is my friend, Owen.”
Owen gave them a wave. “Hey.”
The little girl looked dreamily at Owen. “I like your outfit. You look kind of like Prince Charming.”
Gabby chuckled as she noticed a pink tinge of embarrassment color Owen’s neck. “He is charming.”
“But I’m no prince.” Owen turned to the boy. “What do you like to do for fun, Benjamin?”
The boy pushed his glasses back up his nose. “You can just call me Ben. Everybody else does. I like to read. And I like to build stuff, I guess.”
“That’s cool. What’s your favorite book?”
“I like science fiction. My favorite books are all the Star Wars stories.”
Owen looked up and winked at her. Score—they’d purchased the perfect gift for him. He’d love the Star Wars Lego set.
“How about sports? Do you play any sports?”
“Um, not really. Sometimes I play basketball with my brother.”
“Owen plays hockey,” Gabby told them. “He’s pretty good at it. It’s his job. He plays for a team called the Colorado Summit.”
“Never heard of it,” Ben said. “I’ve never ever seen a hockey game.”
Owen chuckled.
The little girl looked solidly enamored with him, her eyes wide with adoration. “I’ll bet you’re very good at hockey.”
Waiters served their food. They set plates covered in huge steaming steaks, piles of roasted potatoes, and slivers of almond green beans in front of Owen and Gabby. The kids’ plates held mashed potatoes, chicken nuggets, and small clusters of grapes.
They dug in, making small talk with the kids.
The food was amazing. Gabby savored the meal, trying not to tally up the cost of each bite. Owen lived in a
totally different world than she did. She had a hard time ordering a pizza without a coupon—she couldn’t imagine spending five hundred dollars on one plate of food.
The kids ate all of their nuggets, most of their potatoes, but both left the grapes. Owen grabbed the little cluster from Ben’s plate. “Don’t you like grapes?”
The boy wrinkled his nose. “Nah. Too mushy.”
“What? No way. Grapes are awesome.” He passed one to the boy. “All right, Basketball Ben, see if you can make a shot?” He opened his mouth, inviting the boy to toss the grape in.
Ben laughed and pitched the grape toward Owen’s face. Owen dipped his head and expertly caught the grape in his mouth.
Gabby and Marnie cheered and clapped in applause.
Owen bowed. “I have lots of brothers. This is how dinner typically ended every night in our house.” He held another grape up to Ben. “Now you try.”
Ben shook his head. “No way. Grapes are gross.”
Owen shook the grape at Gabby, a daring gleam in his eye. “How about you?”
Nice. They were at an expensive gala. No one else was lobbing the fruit garnish at their tablemates.
Still, she never backed down from a dare. And she’d grown up with a brother, too. She grinned then opened her mouth.
Laughing, he tossed the grape. Falling short of its mark, the grape missed her mouth and dropped perfectly down the front of her dress and directly into the center of her cleavage. He pumped his first in the air. “Score.”
Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed at Owen. She lowered her voice and murmured, “Not yet, you haven’t.” She glanced at the grape down her dress then back to Owen. “Did you do that on purpose?”
He shrugged and held up another grape. “Wanna try again? I could go for a hat trick?”
“What’s a hat trick?” Ben asked.
Owen answered the boy, but kept his eyes fixed on Gabby, his tone filled with sexual innuendo. “It’s when you score three times in a row. It takes a lot of skill and finesse, but when it happens, it’s pretty exciting, and makes everybody involved really happy.”
Gabby discreetly plucked the grape from between her bosom and set it on her plate. She grinned at Owen. “As much fun as that sounds like, and it does sound pretty great, I think we’d better stay focused on the kids right now. It looks like they’re letting them open their gifts.”
Ben and Marnie jumped up and down in their seats in anticipation. Their eyes gleamed with joy as they accepted the beautifully wrapped gifts.
Ben ripped the wrapping free and held up the box. “Cool. My friend, Caleb, has this one, and it’s awesome. I’m gonna make this tonight.”
Marnie took a more delicate approach. She pulled the bow free and set it on the table before slowly peeling the wrapping back, then squealed in delight at the pink and purple box. “I love it. I can make friendship bracelets for my sisters and the girls in my class.” She looked up shyly at Owen. “I could make you a bracelet, if you want. They have blue stickers.”
Owen smiled. “I’d like that. Blue is my favorite color.”
Both kids seemed to like their gifts, and they politely thanked Gabby and Owen.
The MC for the night approached the microphone at the front of the room and made a few announcements and thanked everyone for coming. He stated a ridiculous sum of money that had been raised by the event and presented a check to the head of the after-school program.
After the applause died down, he instructed the kids to stay at the tables and for the adults to move to the next ballroom where a band had been set up and champagne would be served.
Owen and Gabby wished the kids a Merry Christmas and told them goodbye.
Gabby slipped her arm through Owen’s as he led her into the grand ballroom. “That was so much fun. And I think both kids really liked their presents. We did good.”
“You did good. You picked out their presents.”
“It was a team effort.”
He laughed as they stepped in to the room.
Gabby gasped at the elegantly decorated room. Décor of red, gold, and green shimmered throughout the room. Huge swaths of gold fabric hung in arches from the ceiling, an enormous wreath covered the wall behind the band, and red and gold bows and greenery surrounding twinkling candles made up the centerpieces on the tables. “It’s beautiful.”
The band began to play an old Frank Sinatra tune, and Owen took her hand and drew her out on to the dance floor. “Dance with me.”
She fell easily in step with him, fitting perfectly in the circle of his arms. He led her around the floor, in flawless rhythm to the music. Her heart hammered against her chest at the closeness of him. The scent of his after-shave surrounded her, and she felt like a princess at the ball. Maybe he was Prince Charming.
“You’re pretty good at this,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him.
He shrugged. “My mom loves to dance. She taught all of us boys how to dance and to love music. She made us all take some kind of music lessons. Most of us took either piano or guitar, and one of my brothers learned how to play the drums. We created our own band and used to practice in the garage. We were pretty cool.”
“I’ll bet.” She smiled at the thought of Owen as a teenage boy. “Which did you learn to play?”
“The guitar. But only enough to get by. My younger brother, Nate, really took to it, and went on to form an actual band. He’s pretty good. He plays all around the country, and I guess he’s got quite a following. We should go watch him sometime. If you want.”
He dropped the statement so easily. Like it was no big deal.
She let it hang in the air. Easy or not, he had just asked her to go out. Again. And the way he held his arm around her waist and pulled her to him left no doubt that this wasn’t a favor. This was an actual offer of a date. He was asking to see her again.
“Sure, that sounds fun.” She smiled up at him. “I’d like to do that with you.”
“Good. I think he’s playing later this week. I’ll have him get us some tickets.”
The song ended and a new one began—a classic Elvis tune. Owen made no move to leave the dance floor, and she snuggled in against his chest.
As they danced, she pressed one hand against his chest and marveled at the solid muscle under his shirt. She tried not to drool as thoughts of ripping that shirt off and touching his bare chest filled her head, and she imagined his strong arms lifting her up and carrying her off to bed.
He ran his hand lightly up her bare arm and hummed the song in her ear. She shivered at the feel of his warm breath against her neck, and flames of desire shot through her.
Every nerve in her body was alive and yearning at the nearness of him. Being held in his arms as he spun her around the dance floor was just this side of heaven. Delicious butterflies twirled and looped in her stomach as she laid her head on his shoulder.
Yeah, she’d like to go see his brother’s band with him. She’d like to do a lot of things with him. But she’d start with that.
Chapter Eight
Should he or shouldn’t he?
Owen followed Gabby’s extremely nice-shaped butt up the stairs to her apartment and debated if he should try to kiss her goodnight.
Everything in him wanted to kiss her. Wanted to shove her up against the wall and have his way with her, then carry her into her bedroom and peel off that pretty pink dress. He swallowed at the thought of a naked Gabby lying beneath him.
He continued his internal debate as he stood on the landing and waited for her to unlock her front door. She stepped inside and turned as if to tell him goodnight, but he didn’t give her the chance.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to him, pressing her body against his as he crushed her lips with his mouth. No slow easy caress of lips, no soft kiss goodnight. He had no patience for that. He needed her mouth, needed to taste her, to feel her.
She met his passion, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. A sexy sig
h escaped her lips and his desire for her went mad. Sliding his hand down her back, he cupped her perfectly rounded ass, tipping her hips up and pulling her tighter against him.
Leaning her head back, she gave him access to her slender throat, and he laid a fiery trail of kisses down her neck. She smelled amazing, and he inhaled her scent.
Carnal hunger filled him, and he wanted to devour her. To taste, and suck, and explore, every flawless inch of her. To feast on her body. “God, I want you,” he growled against her ear.
She whimpered in response and arched against him. He couldn’t touch enough of her as his hands slid over her generous curves, caressing and stroking. His large hands moved up her sides and cupped her full breasts.
Unable to bear it for a second longer, he reached down and swept an arm under her legs, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the sofa.
Hating the seconds he wasn’t touching her, he cleared half the throw pillows from the couch, laid her down, and stretched out on top of her. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down on her. “Why do you have so many freaking pillows on this sofa?”
She laughed, a sound that was music to his ears. “Why are you talking about my pillows instead of kissing me again?”
He grinned. Dang, he really liked this girl. Not just the way she looked—which was gorgeous, even if she didn’t realize it—or the way her body fit snugly—perfectly—against his, but he liked the way she gave him a hard time. Liked that she saw through all of his bullshit, even called him on it, and yet still liked him anyway.
And he liked the way she felt under him. Yeah, he really liked that. Liked the way her hips squirmed and the way she caught her bottom lip as he slid his hands across her waist and up her ribs.
She wasn’t playing games, wasn’t putting on a show like so many of the bar bunnies and wealthy little debutantes that he’d dated. She looked him in the eye, watching his every move, her breath catching as he drew his hands near her breasts.
He liked teasing her. As much as he wanted to take her right now on this sofa, amidst thirteen throw pillows, he was enjoying the thrill of watching her. Of watching her, feeling her, hearing her make those ridiculously sexy sounds of need as he slowly ran his hands over her body, caressing the exposed skin of her neck, sliding the sleeves of her dress down, grazing the tops of her exposed breasts.