Neither Coach Karl nor the GM turned up for the meal. But the associate coaches showed, and a couple of other guys from management.
But not Georgia.
The table was crammed full of food. There literally wasn’t enough room for all the dishes the guys had ordered. There were roasted filets of fish, Panang beef curries, and several different flavors of pineapple and coconut rice. And—this made him think of Georgia—dumplings in several different colors.
Leo pulled out his phone and texted her. Where are you? It’s dinnertime. There’s a ton of food. They’re running up the bill on me.
It was only a minute or two before she replied. I wasn’t going to come. Catching up on some work.
You must be buried, Leo teased, if you’re missing out on Thai food.
I am! Sorry to ask but I need to know if you’ll do that calendar. They need a decision.
Smiling to himself, Leo replied: Which calendar?
The only one we discussed. The naked calendar.
Oh, right.
You just wanted me to write *naked* didn’t you?
Now he was grinning like a lunatic. Yep.
She sent him an emoticon with pink cheeks. It was like being in high school again—in the best possible way.
He went in for the kill. I count four kinds of dumplings on this table.
That’s just mean.
No it isn’t! Get down here. I bought all these dumplings, apparently. Here’s the deal: I’ll do the calendar if you come down here.
There was a pause before she replied. So we’ve stooped to bribery?
Yep.
Ten minutes later Leo was happy to see Georgia ease into the room. And God bless the warm climate of the Southwest, because Georgia wore a sleeveless top showing off smooth, golden shoulders that he wished he could nibble on instead of the Thai food. She hesitated in the doorway, though, probably because the table looked pretty crowded already.
But the goalie, Beacon, saw her standing there. “Hey, it’s Killer!” Georgia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at hearing her dad’s old nickname, but then she smiled. “Get in here,” Beacon said, beckoning. “Yo—Castro, move down for Killer.” They made room on the bench for her.
Leo was basically trapped at the opposite end of the table. But he took three dishes, each with a few dumplings on it, and began to arrange them on one plate for her. When it was assembled, he handed it to O’Doul. “Pass that down to Georgia, please. And no sampling.”
O’Doul took the plate with a raised eyebrow. “That’s a lot of dumplings.”
“My girl likes her dumplings. And she has a monster metabolism.”
O’Doul passed it to Bayer who passed it to Silas, who actually got up and delivered it to Georgia at the end of the table.
Kiss-ass, Leo thought grumpily. But at least she got her dish.
From her seat on the far end, Georgia looked up at Leo. Thank you, she mouthed.
For what? he replied, with an eyebrow wiggle.
She dropped her eyes and blushed. Immediately, Leo felt blood rushing south, even though she was ignoring him now. She picked up a napkin and tucked it into her lap while he admired her long, toned arms. He knew exactly how those felt clinging to him. She was strong, and it was such a turn-on. Earlier today he’d been mesmerized by the sight of her hands wrapped around the handle of her racket and it was all too easy to imagine them wrapped around something else.
Fuck. He had it bad.
“So . . .” O’Doul said, swirling the scotch in his glass. “You two used to be a thing?”
Leo had to stop himself from protesting O’Doul’s use of the past tense. This afternoon had sure felt like a present-tense situation. But Georgia was skittish. So he forced himself to downplay it, and also to ignore the faux-casual tone of O’Doul’s question. “Yeah. Long time ago.”
“So you must like ’em uptight?” Bayer laughed.
“Guess so,” Leo said lightly. They didn’t need to know that earlier today he’d seen her be anything but uptight. Although . . . His eyes scanned the table. It hit him all at once that Georgia was the only female face in a sea of teammates and club employees. There were other women working for the organization. He’d met more than a handful already. But it couldn’t be easy to be the only chick traveling with all these men. Even if you were gorgeous, smart, and an athlete, too.
No wonder she was touchy about the way they saw her.
That was something to think about later.
He waved down a waitress who’d stopped to exchange some flirting with Castro. “Excuse me, but that young lady needs a drink,” he said, indicating the only young lady at the table.
A few minutes later the waitress brought Georgia what looked like a Diet Coke.
He’d rather buy her a glass of champagne and drink it naked in bed. But a guy had to start somewhere.
* * *
The final bill at the restaurant was a doozie. Leo didn’t remember the limit on his credit card. Handing it over, he only hoped that the amount wouldn’t be declined. That would mean splitting it onto two or three cards while the team laughed.
It went through, luckily.
In the unlucky department, Leo didn’t get to talk to Georgia at dinner. And on the short walk back to the hotel, she chatted with Silas.
Georgia was avoiding him. There was really no other way to look at it.
Back inside the hotel lobby, they all headed in the obvious direction—the bar. Leo took a spot at a high table, leaving space for her. She was near the doorway, finishing up her conversation with the backup goalie.
And then? She disappeared.
His teammates had obviously decided that Leo’s wallet had taken enough of a beating tonight already, so they began buying him beers. Castro bought Leo a shot of good tequila, and wanted to talk about college hockey. They’d played against each other in the Frozen Four once. An hour slipped by in casual conversation.
But Georgia did not reappear.
Pleasantly drunk, Leo took a second to text her. You okay?
The reply came quickly. Yes, and thanks for the dumplings.
Where’d you go?
In for the night.
Didn’t that just give him ideas. He could picture her in the king-sized bed in her quiet hotel room. He wanted to spread her out on the bed and . . . Yeah. He’d need a few hours just to check off the top few items on his to-do list with her. Can I come up and visit you?
The reply was immediate. It’s not a good idea.
He thought it was. Seemed like a good idea earlier today, he pressed.