First Shot At Love

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "It would be my honor." His grin blossomed into a full smile. It took all of Emily's self-control not to jump him right there. His grin was adorable. But his smile—his smile was lethal, all heat and unspoken promises of delights yet to come.

  Of delights yet to be discovered.

  "Do you have a pen?"

  "A pen?"

  He grinned again then nodded. "So I can have your number. So I can call you tomorrow."

  "Oh. Um, yeah." She pulled her gaze away from his, her heart stammering in her chest as she dug through her small purse. She pulled out a pen and tried to give it to him, experienced a moment of confusion when he stepped closer and held his arm out to her.

  Then she realized he wanted her to write her number on his arm. She hesitated then carefully took his wrist in one hand, surprised at the thickness of it, surprised at the hard muscles she felt just below the surface of warm, firm flesh. And not just his wrist—his forearm as well. The man was nothing but a solid wall of muscle.

  She pushed all thoughts of exploring that wall of muscle from her mind, refused to think about how it would feel to have that warm hard flesh pressed against her body. And then she had to think, tried to remember her own phone number so she could write it down.

  On his arm.

  He glanced at the numbers, written in her bold, blocky writing, then looked up at her and smiled. Before she could react, he grabbed her hand again and brought it to his mouth, the firm flesh of his lips soft against her skin as they grazed her knuckles once more.

  And his eyes never left hers, not once.

  "Until tomorrow night, my Emilie."

  She tried to swallow, could barely nod as he released her hand. He grinned again and nodded his head in a slight bow then moved past her, tossing the ice cream pint in the air as he moved down the aisle.

  Emily stared after him, wondering if her mouth was hanging open in shock.

  Wondering what she had just gotten herself into.

  Three

  Randy Michaels passed the puck to JP then flipped his stick upside down and rested his arm against the blade. "You got her to say yes? After that lame ass pick up?"

  JP ignored the puck sliding his way and turned to frown at Alec. "Telling tales, Kolchak?"

  "Hey, don't blame me. I couldn't resist. And I still can't fucking believe it. Cucumbers." Alec shook his head, a disbelieving grin on his face. "Fucking cucumbers."

  Ian Donovan, another teammate, slid to a stop next to him, spraying snow against his legs. JP shot him a warning glare but the man ignored it. "Did you really ask her which one she would use?"

  "Yeah, he did." Alec spoke up before JP had the chance. Just as well, because what could JP say? He couldn't deny it, not when Alec had been standing right there, watching and listening to everything. And there was nothing he could say to excuse it. Even he had to admit it hadn't been his finest moment.

  But he didn't care because he was seeing Emily tonight. He glanced down at his arm, his mind seeing the strong, bold numbers she had taken great care in writing. He didn't have to move the sleeve of his jersey to see they were now faded, barely visible after sweating and showering and sweating again. It didn't matter—he had already entered the numbers into his phone, had already committed them to memory.

  And he'd already talked to her, just before practice. A grin lifted the corners of his mouth as he recalled her surprise when she realized it was him. Had she not expected him to call? Possibly.

  And she had seemed surprised when he reminded her about their date tonight. A long silence had greeted him when he told her where to meet him and what time. He was taking no chances, had made the reservations yesterday before their game.

  "So you're actually taking her out tonight?"

  JP looked up, saw three sets of eyes watching him with various degrees of amusement. Of course, they would think this was funny. He scowled at Ian then reached for the puck.

  "Yes, of course. We're going to Magdalena's."

  Randy let out a low whistle, his brows shooting up in surprise. "You're taking her there? That's a little pricey, don't you think? I mean, for something that's not a sure thing—"

  "That's where I want to take her, eh? And I'm not planning on seducing her." Not much, at least, although that was very much on his mind. "I want to impress her."

  "Okay, wait. I don't get it." Alec moved out of the net and pushed the helmet back on his head. "What are you after with this girl? I mean, if she's not a sure thing, and if you're not planning on getting any, why bother?"

  JP tapped his blade against the edge of the puck then shot it straight at Alec. The goalie was too fast and caught it, batting it to the side. "Because it's a date. I want to impress her. Get to know her."

  Ian shook his head. "I still say it would be cheaper to pick up a bunny at the bar."

  "She's not a bunny. And the three of you—" JP waved his arm, taking in all three of his teammates with a disappointed frown. "All of you are hopeless. Emily is a nice girl. I want to date a nice girl."

  Silence greeted his statement—for all of five seconds. His teammates glanced at each other then erupted in laughter.

  Laughter that went on entirely too long.

  Randy wiped a hand across his eyes then moved closer to JP. He reached out with one large hand and playfully shoved it against JP's shoulder. "You? Date a nice girl?"

  "Yeah. And how do you even know she's nice? You picked her up in a fucking grocery store. For all you know, she could be a serial killer." Ian looked over at Alec, as if waiting for him to confirm it. At least Alec had the decency not to agree with Ian.

  "No, not a serial killer." Alec shook his head then pinned JP with an odd look. "But definitely not your type, either. She seemed too nice. And maybe even a little…I don't know. Sheltered, maybe? Too innocent? Something."

  JP clenched his jaw, felt the muscle twitch as he ground his teeth together. He understood the joking—that's what teammates did. Harass, tease, joke. What he didn't understand was their honest humor and confusion about the situation. They really thought JP couldn't be attracted to someone like Emily—someone not a bunny. The realization stung. It wasn't like he picked up a different girl every night, or in every city they played. That was more Randy's style.

  Yes, he liked to go out. He liked to flirt. Of course he did. But he wasn't plowing his way through the bunnies. Not even close.

  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.

  Four

  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."

  Five

  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.