Ah, what the hell. I grab some of the crunchy treats.
I try to eat healthy, other than that year after I got injured, when I ate my weight in junk food every week, not to mention I drank gallons of booze, trying to drown my sorrows. But I’ve gotten back to the way I learned to eat when I was playing, lots of protein and veggies. I’ve seen former players pack on the pounds, and I don’t want to end up like that. I work out to stay in shape, and even still play hockey when I can. Truthfully, it’s not just to stay in shape. I have to be active or I’d go nuts.
I’ll have to find a beer league in L.A. to join.
“Tell me a joke,” Lacey says.
I shake my head. “I’m not very good at jokes.”
“You must know one.”
“Okay. A chemist, a physicist, and a statistician go hunting.”
“I can’t imagine you hunting.”
“I don’t really hunt. Anyway, the chemist shoots at a deer and misses it by five feet to the left. The physicist shoots and misses by five feet to the right. The statistician throws down his gun and yells, ‘We got him!’ ”
She frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“Because it’s the mean of five feet to the right and five feet to the left, get it?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“I told you I’m bad at jokes,” I mutter.
“Okay let’s play more Would You Rather. Let’s make it the sexy edition.”
My eyes fly open. “Uh…”
“So…would you rather walk in on your parents having sex or have them walk in on you?”
“Oh man. Neither.”
“You have to pick one.”
I think through the pros and cons of each. Finally, I say, “I’d rather walk in on them.”
“That took a long time.”
“I like to be sure I’m making the right choice.”
“Hmm. Your turn.”
“I have no fucking clue what to ask.”
“You did good with the beach versus hot tub question.”
“Huh. Okay, would you rather talk dirty over the phone or send dirty texts?”
“Oh easy. Dirty texts.”
Do I have that to look forward to? Oh wait. Fake marriage.
“Would you rather walk in on your best friend naked or have him walk in on you naked?”
“Phht. I’ve seen my best friend naked lots of times. And he’s seen me.”
“Oooh. Tell me more.”
“We played hockey together. We changed and showered and got dressed in the same locker room all the time.”
“Ah.” She lays two fingers on her chin. “I’m picturing a room full of naked hockey players. I like it. Never mind our game, I’m just going to close my eyes and fantasize for a while.”
Jesus.
“Kidding,” she says. “Who’s turn is it?”
We go back and forth a while longer, and even though I struggle with some questions, I’m learning a lot about her. She likes bubble baths. She’d rather have her hair pulled than scratches on her back. She’d like to do a shot off my abs. And from our conversation with Charles, she likes oral sex. Hmmm.
This isn’t doing much for my persistent semi. By the time we get to L.A. I’m going to be so hard I’ll have to disappear into the bathroom for a fast hand job.
I glance at Lacey. Her cheeks are pink. Maybe she’s a little turned on too?
No doubt there’s some mutual attraction between us. After a few moments of thought, I conclude it’s probably best to address this out in the open. “We’re married.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“You’re a real smartass, aren’t you?”
“I have my moments.”
“Okay, I’m trying to be frank here. We’re attracted to each other.”
I fucking love the way her lips curl into a smile. “All right then, if we’re being frank, yes. Yes, we are.”
“Married people have sex.”
“I’ve heard that.”
I laugh. “You’re not helping me.”
“Are you trying to say you want to have sex with me?”
“Uh…” My tongue feels heavy. So much for being frank. She’s way ahead of me. “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“How long till the next rest stop?”
I choke. “I didn’t mean right this minute. Okay, well, I sort of do, but I was thinking bigger picture.”
“Like, when we get to L.A. How many bedrooms do you have?”
“Three.”
“Good. I don’t think we should share a room.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not opposed to sleeping with you, though.”
Jesus. But this is what I wanted. “That’s what I was getting at. What are the terms of our relationship?”
“You’re making this into a business deal?”
“Um…”
“A business deal that includes sex.” Her eyes narrow. “I don’t like that.”
Hell. Does that mean sex is off the table? “I wouldn’t say it’s a business deal,” I offer carefully. “More like we’re doing each other a favor.”
She tilts her head and considers that. “Okay. I can live with that.”
“And I want to be clear: I don’t expect sex as payment for the favor. But I wanted to know if, you know, if we both wanted it…if it would be okay to act on that.”
She purses her lips, lifts her chin, and rubs her fingertips to her throat. “Well, I already said I’m not opposed to sleeping with you. But thank you for clarifying expectations.”
Why do I feel like she’s laughing at me?
Chapter 9
Lacey
Théo frowns. “I like having clear expectations.”
“Always a good thing,” I murmur solemnly.
He’s so damn cute.
He should be annoying me, because wow, we’re so different in some ways. He analyzes everything. He loves to plan. There’ve been moments where I worried he didn’t have a sense of humor, but then he shows me he does. And he doesn’t fake anything—he’s honest. I like that.
So we do have some things in common—honesty. Humor. Shitty brothers.
I suspect Théo is way smarter than me, though. I may not be an intellectual, but I’m not stupid. I already know how to push his buttons.
I smile smugly to myself as I snuggle down into the super-comfortable seat of his Audi. Getting him to stop at that ghost town had been so much fun. Playing those crazy games too.
I’m also a teensy bit smug because he wants to have sex with me.
Whew. Because damn, I’m hot for this man.
There’s something about him that just gets to me. The way he took charge when Ed and Lincoln were chasing us. The way he’s so strong and controlled, yet there are hints of vulnerability when he talks about his brother and ex-girlfriend. The way he stops to analyze everything. Most of the time, ha. The way he’s so freakin’ smart. The way his lips curve when he’s smiling against his will.
The fact that he wants to have sex with me makes me melt even more. I was only half joking about pulling over at the next rest stop.
For a while I’m quiet, my eyes closed, thinking about sex with Théo. I imagine getting my hands on his body, all those muscles. I imagine how strong he is and the things we could do…
My eyes pop open. “Hey. Why did you quit playing hockey? You’re not old enough to retire.”
His fingers flex on the steering wheel. “I had to. I got injured.”
“Oh. That sucks. You’re okay, though?”
“Sort of. I can’t see well out of my right eye.”
I blink. “Oh no. That’s why you wear glasses?”
“Yeah. I had perfect vision before the accident.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “What happened? Or is that too nosy?”
He lifts one shoulder. “It’s fine. It was years ago. Puck bounced up under my visor and hit me in the eye.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hands.
“It was pretty scary. When it happened, everyone was freaking out. They rushed me to the hospital for surgery. At first, I couldn’t see anything, then I could tell when lights were off or on, and everybody freaked out because that was good. So there was hope I’d get my vision back. Of course, I kept hoping I’d get all my vision back and I’d be playing again in no time. But it took over a year and a half, and I’d been out of the game all that time, and I never got enough vision back to play professionally.”
My heart contracts hearing his story, a pit in my stomach thinking about what he must have gone through. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “That must have been awful.”
“Yeah.” A muscle in his jaw tics. This is still hard for him to talk about, obviously. “I’d just started my career in the NHL. Got drafted, got to follow in my dad’s footsteps and my grandpa’s footsteps—they played in the NHL. So did my uncle. And then it was over.”
“You’ve obviously been successful, though. Just in a different way.”
“Yeah. I love hockey. I knew I had to be involved in the sport somehow. I always liked numbers and stats—the guys used to make fun of me because I’d spout all these statistics. So I started my own analytics company. It took off, and teams were coming to me for advice on all kinds of hockey decisions. Then the Mustangs offered me a job as assistant GM, and it was a chance to really be back in the game.”
I nod, impressed with his resilience. “That’s really inspiring.”
“Eh. Just did what I had to do.”
My heart squeezes again. “I don’t know. I think overcoming something like that is pretty remarkable.”
His face relaxes, a smile touching his mouth. “Thanks.”
Of course, this all makes me want to jump him even more. Damn.
We drive in silence for a while, then my phone rings. Like, actually rings, with a phone call.
I grab it. “It’s Chris!”
Théo’s eye widen.
I answer the call. “Chris! Where the hell are you?”
“Never mind me, where the hell are you?”
“Almost in Los Angeles.”
“What the fuck are you doing? What do you mean you got married? To who?”
I ignore his questions. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He sounds surly.
“You took money out of my bank account.”
“Stole,” Théo says from beside me. “He stole money.”
I shoot him a quelling glance.
“I’m going to pay it back,” Chris says. “You know I will.”
“I don’t know that. I don’t believe you, Chris. You’ve lied to me too many times. And what the hell? Trying to pimp me out to your bookies? That’s low.”
“That’s bullshit,” Théo puts in. “Despicable. Reprehensible.”
“Who is that?” Chris demands.
“My husband.”
“Jesus, Lacey! You’re not serious.”
“Oh, I am. This time you’re going to have to get yourself out of your own mess.” I pause. “Just be careful. Those guys came to the apartment looking for me. Or you. Or both of us.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. We got away. I…” I almost choke up but swallow the lump in my throat. “Take care of yourself, okay? And stay in touch.”
“Lacey. I’m sorry. Look, just come back and I’ll show you—”
“I’ll come back when you show me you can deal with this. Bye, Chris.”
Théo nods approvingly, but his smile is gentle. “Was that hard?”
“Yes.” I stare out the window, getting my emotions under control.
“But you did it, brave girl.”
I nod. I did it.
We arrive in Los Angeles in the early evening, the sun setting and lighting up the sky orange and gold and pink. Théo changes freeways a couple of times and then we exit into Marina del Rey.
“I’ve only been here once before,” Théo says, turning on the GPS in his phone for directions to his new home, and we find our way to Ocean Front Walk. His place is a condo in a triplex, a multi-level, modern concrete building with lots of glass, and it’s so close to the beach there’s sand on the sidewalk. He parks out front even though there’s a small garage.
“I’ll need the door opener to use the garage,” he says, climbing out of the vehicle.
“Oh my God.” I take a few steps away from car. The sun is setting over the ocean and the vista sucks the air out of my lungs. I actually break out in goosebumps, staring at the wide expanse of pale sand, the silvery ocean, and the flaming sunset tinting the turquoise sky and wispy clouds tangerine, peach, and pink. A squat, squarish lifeguard tower is silhouetted against the sky. “This is incredible. I don’t want to move from this spot. Ever.”
He laughs.
I reluctantly turn and follow him up a short sidewalk and high concrete steps to the door. He unlocks it and walks in, flicking on lights.
I follow, my eyes probably as big as hockey pucks, gazing around at the incredible interior. A wall of windows looks out over the beach and the vibrant sunset. He doesn’t have a lot of furniture…brown leather couches and chairs, glass tables, lamps with black bases and modern shades. A big area rug covers the gleaming stone-tiled floor. “This is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty good. I’m going to grab my stuff out of the car.”
“I can help.” I follow him, and we bring in his suitcases and the cooler bag he had drinks in. I feel a twinge in my chest thinking about my lost suitcase with Pete in it. I guess I’ll never see him again. Maybe someone will find the suitcase and keep it for me…I don’t know. Oh well.
“Are you going to be okay for tonight?” Théo asks when we’re back inside. “I’ll take you shopping in the morning.”
“I’m fine for tonight,” I assure him. I wander to a set of doors in the living room and open them. They lead onto a terrace, also overlooking the ocean. There are a bunch of chairs and small tables and a shiny barbecue out here. “Nice.” Back inside I check out the spacious kitchen, all glossy white cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and the same tiled floors. A vase of fresh flowers sits on the pale marble counter.
Théo sees me looking at them and smiles wryly. “Looks like my mom was here. She must have left those.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“This can be your room.” Théo gestures to a bedroom.
I peek in. “Whoa. Lots of white.” The walls are white, the queen bed has a plain white duvet on it, a matching dresser and vanity in white, and white blinds on the window.
“It has a bathroom too.”
“Awesome.”
“The master suite is upstairs.” He grabs his suitcase and hauls it up the open staircase, so I follow, curious.
The entire upper level is the master suite, with more floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach. “You have room for a sitting area there.” I wave a hand toward the windows. “Even with this massive bed.”
I’m kind of afraid to look at the bed, because I know I’ll think about Théo in that bed and hopefully me with him.
“Yeah. I might buy more furniture.”
His bathroom is huge too, with stone walls, a generous shower and a tub, and a double vanity. There are doors to outside, so I go out there to find another terrace, this one with glass panels to shield from ocean breezes but not impede the view. Two lounge chairs face the Pacific, and behind them is a hot tub. “Holy crap.”<
br />
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Amazing.”
“I’m going to order pizza. That okay?” He lifts an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Back downstairs, I take my backpack into my bedroom and set it on the floor. I plop my butt down onto the bed and stare at my meager belongings. For a moment a sense of bleakness washes over me. I’ve left my only family to deal with criminals. I’ve left the only home I’ve known since I was about twelve when we moved into that apartment. I’ve left my friends and my hometown. I don’t even have Pete.
I ran away from my problems because a hot guy was looking out for me.
It’s been a long time since anyone looked out for me. No wonder I succumbed.
I blow out a sigh. Well, it’s done. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that you have to make the best of things. So here I am in sunny California, living right on the freakin’ beach, with a gorgeous man. And hey, we’re having pizza. Pizza is always good.
I send Karine another text message to let her know we arrived and I’m fine. She responded with the expected freak-out earlier, so I want to make sure she’s reassured. Then I head out to the kitchen.
Théo must be still up in his room. I poke around a bit, finding dishes and cutlery. He’s all set, I guess thanks to his mom. What the hell is she going to think when she finds out he’s married? To someone she’s never even heard of? We must be nuts.
Footsteps on the stairs alert me to Théo’s presence. “Pizza ordered. Shit put away.” He grins. “My mom’s a lifesaver. I shipped most of my stuff here, and she came and put it all away. She even bought me new towels.” He shakes his head.
“That’s nice of her. I bet she’s happy you’re living closer.”
“Yeah, I think she is.”
“She’s not angry about you working for your grandpa?”
“She probably tells my dad she is, but I don’t think she’s too upset about it. She’s used to the shit that goes on in our family. Someone’s always mad about something.”
“Again, making me more and more look forward to meeting them.” I give him a phony smile.
He laughs. “Sorry. They’re not that bad. Just a lot of strong personalities and a lot of competitiveness.”
Play to Win Page 8