Malcolm’s chuckle eases my wayward thoughts. “Spoil you. That’s what I mean.”
“You do. You have. You don’t need to. This is all so new.”
His chin settles over the top of my head, tucking me against his broad chest. I nestle my cheek against his shirt and wrap my arms around his waist. The swish of the waves in the distance, the steady beat of his heart, and the scent of his cologne dominate my senses.
“You’re such a mystery.” His words rumble through me. “You’re the strongest, most determined woman I’ve ever met, and at the same time, I’m awestruck by your innocence.”
“Hey...”
“No, beautiful, that’s not a bad thing. I meant it as a compliment.” He turns to the sound of the surf from the bay. “I wanted to take you away this weekend to spoil you with a fancy hotel, expensive dining, massages, a limo ride to the game, the exclusive Lightning executive suite... I wanted to show you how special you are to me, and yet, an airplane ride and a beach, and you’re happy.”
“I am,” I say. “I don’t need all that other stuff.”
“God, you’re so much more than I ever knew I wanted.”
My heart tugs. I can’t make Malcolm promises because I am more. I’m not a single woman who can be whisked away. I’m more than me. I’m Jase too. “Malcolm, can we live in the moment?”
He reaches for my hand and leads me back into the hotel room. “Yes...in case you didn’t notice, we have our very own Jacuzzi spa in the bathroom. I say we start living there, and then the moment can come out here to the king-sized bed...the one where you won’t get up and leave me at daybreak. And if you want, we can take the moment to the balcony or the beach...”
I giggle. “Let’s keep those moments in here for now. And no, I won’t be leaving at daybreak. If I recall, I’m being held captive until Sunday night.”
“That’s right. The entire weekend where you’re all mine.”
“With a limited phone plan.”
Malcolm’s smile is inviting as he tugs my hand. “Come this way...we have moments to live.”
My breasts vibrate with laughter as he pulls me through the bathroom door, my bare feet sliding on the shiny tile. The tub is huge. “I’d say I’ve never been in a tub that big before, but you’re getting a big head with all these firsts.”
Malcolm’s eyes widen. “It’s not my head that’s growing at this moment. Well...” His laugh resonates through the bathroom as he adjusts the water in the spa to warm. When he turns back to me, his blue eyes are darkened with desire. Reaching for the straps of my dress, his finger teases my skin. “Maybe this time we can save the dress?”
“What about my panties?”
“No, beautiful. They’re goners.”
Mandy
I feel like the words are redundant at this point when I say I’ve never done this before, but as I hold tightly to Malcolm’s arm and he walks me into the Lightning Bolt’s executive suite high above the ice at Amalie Arena, I’m having a hard time coming up with anything else to say. All of the attention his mere presence garners leaves me a bit speechless.
The actual arena is gigantic, like a football stadium. Malcolm would say football stadiums are like hockey stadiums, but again, this is new to me. The executive suite reminds me of a man cave on steroids. Couches and chairs in clusters, a large kitchen area with an island full of food, and a bar with two bartenders ready for anything. There are some regular tables and other tall ones for standing. Beyond the perimeter is a balcony with more seats and ledges that overlook the rink. If perhaps we decided we didn’t want to watch the game live, it appears it will be playing on one of the many giant screens throughout the suite.
Sally reaches over and pinches my elbow. “Isn’t this cool?” Her excitement mirrors my own.
I nod my agreement as Malcolm stops to talk to some other men in suits. They all look very handsome, tall, and fit, but as I eye his ex-teammates, I find myself more enthralled with the one whose arm I’m holding.
“...introduce you to my girlfriend, Mandy Wells.”
Pink fills my cheeks as I reach out and shake each person’s hand. At first I have to fight the urge to redefine myself. I’ve never thought of myself as Malcolm’s girlfriend. Does that make him my boyfriend? Do I have a boyfriend? When does one become too old to have boyfriends and girlfriends?
As all those questions run through my head, I’m trying to keep track of names. The most consistent comment from his ex-teammates is astonishment that Pep has one girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you, Mandy. I never thought I’d see the day when Pep settled down. You must be quite the woman.”
I simply smile and nod, not knowing exactly how to respond. Thankfully, Malcolm saves me from most, answering for me. “She is...I couldn’t be happier.” With each response, my contentment grows.
About a half hour before the game, things change. Malcolm gives me a kiss on the cheek, and I know he’s about to leave for his ceremony.
“Beautiful, don’t you dare go home with anyone else while I’m gone,” he whispers. “I see them looking at how gorgeous you are.”
“I didn’t know that was an option. I’ve never been kidnapped by someone famous before.”
“It’s not.”
“Then I’ll be right here.”
That earns me a quick squeeze of my hand and a wink.
Within minutes the suite is much less crowded with the noticeable absence of over a half-dozen tall, wide, and handsome men. That leaves us with a few couples and many women, some of whom look much more comfortable in an executive suite than I feel.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sally says as we make our way toward the food bar.
“I don’t think I had a choice.”
“But now that you’re here...”
“It’s fun,” I confess.
She gives me a wink. “See, I knew you could do it.”
“What, come to a hockey game?”
“No, have fun and live a little.”
I shrug. “I feel guilty about this entire weekend. I’m sure Jase is fine, but I’ve never left him.”
“And when you’re doing that living thing...”
“I admit this is really neat.”
We take our plates and drinks and move out onto a balcony that overlooks the rink. My skin pebbles with goose bumps. Even with the air conditioning in the suite, it’s cooler over the ice. “I know I keep saying firsts, but this is my first hockey game,” I say casually as we watch our men from high above. They’re near the side of the ice by what appears to be an announcer’s table.
“Hmm. Pathetic.”
Sally and I both turn to the tall blonde woman beside us.
“Excuse me?” Sally asks. “Did you say something?”
“I said pathetic. Pep finally decides to settle down and you’ve never seen him play? You probably don’t know his stats or his number. You’ve probably never slept in his jersey or stood in line for an autographed picture.”
“Umm.” I’m admittedly a little taken aback.
“No, she doesn’t need to do any of those things—not with him on her arm,” Sally replies, her big-sister act in full gear. “And why should she sleep in his jersey when she has him in her bed?”
“Well, don’t think it will last. There’s not one of us in here who hasn’t been in his bed. He doesn’t stick around long, so enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow you’ll be yesterday’s news.”
Sally takes a step closer to the woman. “Just because you’re discarded trash stinking up the sidewalk doesn’t mean everyone is.”
“Well!” the tall blonde says with a huff as she walks back to a group of women.
“Don’t listen to her,” Sally whispers.
I put my plate down on the small ledge, my appetite waning. “This—this is why—”
“No, stop that right now. Do you think Pep is interested in a woman like that?”
“It sounds as though he was.”
Sally shakes her head and then
diverts my attention to the ice. “Look!”
The giant arena has gone dark, except for multiple circles of light flashing from side to side. There is music blaring as an announcer begins to speak in a deep, booming voice.
“It’s our pleasure...” the PA system shouts. “...to reintroduce from the two thousand and...” The crowd cheers so loudly that I make a mental note to ask Malcolm what year they’re celebrating. “...Stanley Cup champions!” More cheering, and then the lights all come together in a giant circle in the middle of the rink, highlighting a blue bolt of lightning. And then, one by one the teammates come forward as they announce their names. To my surprise they don’t announce Malcolm as Malcolm Peppernick, but as Pep Peppernick.
“I guess he really did go by that name?” I whisper rather loudly to be heard in Sally’s ear.
She nods. “He did. Haven’t you Googled him or anything?”
“No.” My answer makes me feel guilty. I don’t know who he is. Or maybe I do...I know the real man—who he is now. Not the man he was. I know that he’s Malcolm Peppernick, the handsome gentleman who whisked me off my feet, pursued me, and has given me all the space and time that I’ve asked for—except for this weekend of kidnapping.
Sally and I cheer as Malcolm and Brian are announced. For a second it reminds me a little of high school when Jackson and Alec’s names were announced over the loudspeaker. And then, I take in the size of Amalie Arena and concede that this is a much bigger scale. I also imagine that if Alec were here, he might think that Malcolm is an all-right guy.
Ignoring the other women, Sally and I sit as the game begins. I should know something about hockey, but except that the goal is to get the puck in the net—aptly called the goal—I’m lost. I know baseball, football, and basketball. Using context clues, I try to follow the game. Maybe it’s the blonde’s comment that may have bothered me. I should know more about the game.
It doesn’t take long to realize the Bolts are the ones in blue, which is the exact opposite of football where the home team always wears white. I’m mesmerized by the intensity as they play. The players are giving it one hundred and ten percent as their skates sail and ice chips fly. In football, there’s a pause after each play. This game just seems to continue at full speed. It isn’t until a large hand covers my shoulder and a deep voice whispers in my ear that I totally forget about the blonde’s comment. Maybe it isn’t gone, but with Malcolm beside me, I no longer care.
“Hi, beautiful. Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” I reply with a kiss.
Before the game is over, Malcolm offers to take me on a walk around the arena. It seemed big from the outside, but from within, it’s mammoth. Everywhere we go, people stare. One little boy even stops us and asks Malcolm for his autograph.
“Do they still make your jersey?” I ask once we have a moment alone.
The endearing pink that I saw the first night at the bar comes back to his cheeks as he shakes his head. “Mandy, no. That isn’t why I brought you here. I hoped you’d have fun, but honestly, this isn’t my idea of fun any longer.”
“According to some tall, buxom blonde, you have quite the reputation.”
“I don’t give a shit about any tall blonde. Do you know whose opinion I care about?”
“The little boy who just wanted your autograph?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint that kid, but no. I only care about yours, a petite, ravishing brunette. If this place makes you uncomfortable—because it no longer feels like home to me—then we can leave.”
“We can stay. I like learning about you.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to get too real.”
I shrug. “Who I’m learning about isn’t really you. That’s what I realized after that woman spoke. The Pep who she talked about isn’t you. It’s who you used to be. It’s like a history lesson.”
“When do I get to learn your history?”
My expression falls before I can pretend it doesn’t.
Malcolm leans close and kisses my nose. “I’m not asking. You didn’t ask either. I brought you here. When you’re ready to share, I’m here.”
I nod as I take a deep breath. My fingers splay over the buttons of his shirt. “This is you.” I press my hand against his chest. “This is the Malcolm I know. As long as he’s with me, I’m happy to stay.” Out of the corner of my eye I see a group of boys who look only slightly older than Jase staring our direction. “I think you have a fan club over there.”
“How about when this is over, I take the person whose fan club I’m the head of back to the hotel and we take a moonlit walk on the beach?”
“I thought we had some big dinner...”
“Beautiful, I have to give you back tomorrow night. I don’t want to share you with a room full of people, especially ego-inflated jocks and ex-jocks. Honestly, I’ve had enough of this reunion.”
I nod. “Okay. I need to let Sally know.”
Malcolm turns and smiles at the growing group of boys. I stand back and watch as he kneels down on one knee and talks and teases.
“Are you really Pep?” one asks nervously.
“I am...”
“Did you really...?”
I can’t help but compare the boys to Jase. If Malcolm is this attentive with little boys he doesn’t know, how would he be...?
No. I remind myself that what I’m imagining can’t happen. It’s just that this weekend of fantasies is going to my head.
* * *
Holding the straps of my sandals, I walk barefoot through the soft sand with Malcolm. Along the shore and going on forever are lights from all the hotels and restaurants. In the breeze is the distant din of people partying and enjoying the beautiful atmosphere. My hair and dress fly backward from the breeze and I need to lift my chin to keep my hair out of my eyes.
Malcolm takes ahold of my other hand as we walk together, enjoying the silence as much as our conversations. The damp sand squeezes between my toes as the warm water laps over my feet.
“Thank you,” I finally say.
“For what? I feel like maybe tonight was a bust. I’m sorry about—”
I lift myself up on my toes and stop his apology with a kiss. I meant it to be quick, but with the way his large hand grabs hold of my waist and pulls me against him, I don’t want to back away. Instead, I melt against him, hoping my body can tell him what my mind won’t allow my words to say.
“Mandy, you’re so much more than those women. I hope you can see that.”
“I really can’t. But I can see that you think so, and that’s enough for me...for right now.” I add the end to remind myself that this is a weekend escape, not real life. “The thank-you I gave you is for kidnapping me. It’s my first kidnapping, and I think I like it.”
“So many firsts,” he says with a grin. “I’m glad you like it.” His eyes shimmer with reflections of the distant lights. He pulls me closer, our hips uniting, wordlessly letting me know that if I’m game, we could go back to the room and live a few more moments.
“I do,” I answer with an equally big smile. “I do like it, as long as you don’t mind that I still call you Malcolm.” I scrunch my nose. “Pep is cute, but I prefer Malcolm.”
“I especially like to hear my name when you scream it...you know, with sailor talk before and after.”
I shake my head as he reaches for my hand, and we head back to the hotel.
Malcolm
Streaks of color crack open the gray night skies in a kaleidoscope of hues as the early rays of dawn’s lights prepare for another day. Quietly sliding open the door, I sneak out onto the balcony and into the gentle, early breeze as I leave Mandy sleeping soundly in the king-sized bed. Before I left the room, I couldn’t stop myself from watching her sleep, so serene and carefree in her dreams. I’ve seen her fall asleep before. I’ve heard her cute short breaths and seen her lovely lips opened slightly as her hair lies sexily mussed over her pillow. However, usually that’s at night, not as the sun is risin
g.
I wanted to rouse her, pull her toward me, and begin our day in my new favorite way to wake, but lingering thoughts over last night combined with her obvious state of slumber-induced contentment wouldn’t allow me to disturb her.
It isn’t often, or ever, that Mandy stays at my apartment beyond sunrise. Having her with me for an entire weekend has been everything I’d hoped it would be. And yet, as I stand outside on the concrete balcony, instead of allowing myself to revel in the positive, I can’t help but think about the incident with the blonde bimbo at the arena and worry that with a few words, that woman nearly ruined everything.
Mandy barely mentioned the woman and what she said—only something about my having a reputation. It was Sally who filled me in on the extent of the woman’s remarks before Mandy and I went on our walk around Amalie. Once we were alone, I apologized to Mandy and offered to take her back to our room. Though she didn’t seem upset, I definitely am.
When I told Mandy that she’s so much more than that woman or others like her, I meant it with my whole heart. I know from experience that if someone would have approached one of those women like that one did Mandy, a catfight would have ensued. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was what the blonde was after.
Mandy is so much more…so above that kind of behavior.
It’s refreshing and endearing and part of the reason that as rays of sunlight begin to fill the sky, I’m outside instead of in the bed beside her. Mandy’s reaction may be refreshing, but it’s also foreign and completely contradictory to the behavior of the women I used to see.
Part of me is concerned that she’s more upset than she let on. That her mild response is simply a cover and when we return home, Mandy will tell me to go back to the women of hockey.
That isn’t even an option.
I couldn’t. I won’t.
I’m out of my element. As a man who had his way with any woman he never wanted…I’m at a loss as to what to do with the one I want more than anything in the world.
Leaning my elbows on the rail of our private balcony, I watch the sky as the sun rises behind me, casting a shadow of the hotel upon the sand, its definition becoming clearer with each minute of light. Above the shallow waters flocks of seagulls fly, scanning the blue surface until one or more plunges deep into the sea in search of its breakfast. At the same time, hordes of sandpipers peck the beach in search of their morning meals.
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