“Ah.”
“One of their VPs is retiring later this year. I’m really hoping if I do well with this project they’ll consider me for his position.” She holds up two crossed fingers and a big toothy smile.
“Vice president. That would be also impressive.”
She gives her shoulders a little shimmy. “I’ve been working toward that my whole career.”
“Well, you seem very intelligent and capable. I’m sure you’ve got this in the bag.”
“You don’t even know me.” She grins and purses her lips around her straw briefly. “Or the business. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I watch her pretty lips close on the straw and feel a stirring in my southern regions. Her lips are sexy, but her intelligence and confidence are even hotter.
“I just play a game for a living,” I say.
She bursts out laughing. “It’s a little more than that.”
“It’s a big business game,” I acknowledge. “Lots of money on the line.”
“Fame.”
“Eh. I guess. I’m not a superstar. But yeah, lots of people know who I am. It’s easier to hide in a big city like New York.”
“Compared to…?”
“I played a couple of years in Montreal. You can’t hide from anyone in that city. They’re hockey crazy.” I smile, though. “It’s cool.”
“Hockey’s pretty popular in New York.”
“Yeah, it is. And this year we’re doing well. Gearing up for a playoff run after this break.”
“You’ll be all rested up and raring to go.”
I’m raring to go all right. The way she looks at me, the way she listens to everything I say, attentive and curious, is a huge fucking turn on.
We talk about New York. She’s lived there since college. She’s cautiously vague about where she lives, saying only Hudson Yard, which isn’t that far from me in Lincoln Square. I don’t mind that she’s careful; women have to be.
“It’s a tiny condo,” she says. “A studio. But I had a bad experience living with a crazy roommate and I wanted to live alone.”
“Yeah, me too. I did the roommate thing for a few years when I started playing, and when I moved here. I’m too old for that now.”
“Ha. How old are you?”
“Almost thirty.”
“Hey, me too. My birthday’s in September.”
I grin. “So is mine. What day?”
“September twelfth.”
“I’m the eleventh!” I laugh. “I’m a whole day older than you.”
“I’ve always liked older men,” she says in a flirty tone.
Our eyes keep meeting and heat pulses between us. The sound of the ocean waves on the nearby sand are a rhythmic push-pull that mirrors the pulsations around us and my quickening heartbeat. The sultry tropical breeze brushes over us and I feel like it’s her fingers on my skin. I want her fingers on my skin. Or my fingers on her skin. That would work, too.
The breeze teases the opening of her shirt, giving me a glimpse of pink lace. Jesus.
“Yeah?” I reach out to push a strand of hair off her face. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Her gaze hangs on mine, her lips curved. “Thank you. Did I mention that I find you attractive, too?”
“Like a magnet,” I say, studying her face, the small, slightly pointy chin, narrow nose, high cheekbones.
She laughs softly, shifting closer to me in the shadows, the lights of the bar now behind us. “Yeah. A really strong magnet.”
Her scent reaches my nose—a combination of coconut and tropical flowers and sunshine. And warm woman. Heady.
“Magnets can also be repulsive,” I murmur, my nose nearing her hair.
“You are definitely not repulsive.”
“Good to know.” I pause, our noses almost touching, our eyes heavy lidded. Our breath mingles.
“Just so you know, my lips won’t kiss themselves,” she whispers.
Author Note
I have to be honest here and tell you this book was an utter disaster to write. I started off with a story in mind and somehow it totally changed by about halfway through and then it became a big mess. Thankfully Kristi Yanta saw what it could be and gave me so much great input. Revising was a little intimidating, but in the end, I absolutely love this story and these characters!
I didn’t set out to be a crusader for men’s mental health, but somehow that happened, too. More men need to read romance novels!
I’m so grateful for the team I have around me—Stacey Price, my goddess assistant, Heather Roberts, another goddess, Kristi Yanta, yes, a goddess. It’s a goddess team of amazing talented women! And this time Katie Kenyhercz is part of the editing team—thank you, Katie! Also big thanks to my daughter who does the spreadsheet stuff. I literally break into a sweat every time I open an Excel spreadsheet—she says she gets excited. What? But yay! And thank you (again!) to my friend PG Forte for the brainstorming help with busking and the American Busker competition. She knew exactly who Emerie was as soon as I described her.
And as always thanks to you! You are my “why”. I love to write and tell stories, but it’s way more fun when I share them, and even more fun when people like them. Thank you for reading!
Other Books by Kelly Jamieson
Heller Brothers Hockey
Breakaway
Faceoff
One Man Advantage
Hat Trick
Offside
* * *
Power Series
Power Struggle
Taming Tara
Power Shift
* * *
Rule of Three Series
Rule of Three
Rhythm of Three
Reward of Three
* * *
San Amaro Singles
With Strings Attached
How to Love
Slammed
* * *
Windy City Kink
Sweet Obsession
All Messed Up
Playing Dirty
* * *
Brew Crew
Limited Time Offer
No Obligation Required
* * *
Aces Hockey
Major Misconduct
Off Limits
Icing
Top Shelf
Back Check
Slap Shot
Playing Hurt
Big Stick
Game On
* * *
Last Shot
Body Shot
Hot Shot
Long Shot
* * *
Bayard Hockey
Shut Out
Cross Check
* * *
Wynn Hockey
Play to Win
In It To Win It
Win Big
For the Win
Game Changer
Bears Hockey
Must Love Dogs…and Hockey
You Had Me at Hockey
Talk Hockey to Me