Home > The Summer Proposal(4)

The Summer Proposal(4)
Author: Vi Keeland

“Yearwood? That’s the name of the guy who just scored?”

Jenna laughed at my question. “Yup. Team captain and arguably the best player in the NHL these days. They call him Pretty Boy for obvious reasons.”

“What’s his first name?”

“Max. I figured you knew him, since those are his seats you’re sitting in.”

 

• • •

 

“Hey, Pretty Boy. Are you looking for someone?”

Max walked out of the locker room. He’d looked right and then left, but hadn’t noticed me sitting on the bench across from the entrance.

He smiled when his eyes landed on me, and his entire face lit up as he walked over. He’d known I was at the game. Right before the second period intermission, he’d skated over to where I was seated and banged on the glass. But he hadn’t known the woman sitting next to me had given me her all-access pass so I could come downstairs to the locker room and see him after the game.

“You waited…”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out Yoda, holding it up in my palm. “I had to give this back. You said you were superstitious.”

He took it from my hand and slipped it back into my jacket pocket. Then he laced his fingers with mine. “I am. I just had the best game of my career. So guess where Yoda needs to be for every game from now on?”

“Where?”

“In my girl’s coat pocket while she sits in my seat.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now, am I?”

He swung our joined hands. “Maybe not yet. But the night is young.”

“Ummm… It’s almost eleven, and I have to work in the morning.”

Max stared into my eyes. My insides did a somersault. He raised our joined hands to his lips and kissed the top of mine.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“Really?” I tilted my head. “Because for some reason, I get the feeling you usually get what you want.”

“Is that a bad thing? Maybe it’s because I’m not a man easily deterred. I don’t mind working for something.”

“Tell me, did you have to work hard for the woman you slept with a few weeks ago?”

Max chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?”

“What if I said I wouldn’t sleep with you just because you say sweet things?”

He raised a brow. “Not ever?”

I laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“That’s fine. I’m not in a rush. Will you at least have a drink with me?”

I smiled. “One. Because I do have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Deal. I’ll take whatever I can get.” He put an arm around my shoulder and started us walking. “Though I should warn you. It doesn’t matter what exit I walk out of, there are usually a few people hanging around for autographs. It feels wrong to just walk by, so it might take a while to get clear of here.”

I liked that he was the type of person to stop for his fans. “Okay.”

The minute we exited, people started screaming his name, and there were more than just a few of them. Security flanked us on both sides while he scribbled his name over and over. A few asked for selfies, and he leaned over and hammed it up for the camera. Those dimples definitely saw a lot of mileage. Some people professed their undying love, while others asked questions about the game tonight. Max took it all in stride, answering in good spirits. It took almost a half hour for the line to dwindle down. When we got to the last few people, a kid who was probably about eighteen lifted his chin to me as Max scribbled his name.

“Is she your girlfriend? She’s hot.”

Max stopped mid scrawl and leveled the kid with a warning glare. “Hey, watch it. Have some respect for women. Especially this one. She might be the future Mrs. Yearwood.” His eyes flashed to meet mine. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 


* * *

 

Georgia

 

“So what does my good luck charm do for a living? Wait, let me guess…”

As he spoke, Max reached across the table and wiped the corner of my lip with his thumb. He showed it to me—sugar from the rim of my lemon drop martini—before sucking it off with a devilish smile that caused a tingle between my legs.

I sipped more of my drink to cool off before answering. “This should be interesting. I’m curious to see what it is you think I do.”

His eyes dropped down to my outfit. It was now almost one o’clock in the morning. We’d walked across the street from the Garden to the nearest bar and taken the most private booth in the back corner, but I was still dressed in my work clothes, having gone straight from the office to meet my blind date, and then the game.

“Classy, yet sexy,” he said. Max leaned to the side and looked down at my feet. “Those hot-as-shit heels don’t look like they’d be too comfortable to stand in all day, so I’m going to guess you work in an office of some kind. You were able to get out pretty early to meet your date, so you’re probably the boss and make your own hours. You also dumped your blind date to come meet a guy for a hockey game—a sport you said you know nothing about—without knowing I was a player. So you’re either in a profession that takes risks, or one that requires you to be an optimist.”

I made a face that said I was impressed. “Go on…”

He rubbed the scruff on his chin, which had definitely gotten darker in the few hours we’d been apart. “I’m gonna say lawyer or advertising exec.”

I shook my head. “And here I thought you were doing so well.”

“Was I close?”

“Sort of. I do sit for the majority of the day lately. I also make my own hours, and I suppose starting my own company was risky. I own Eternity Roses.”

“Eternity Roses? Why does that sound so familiar?”

“Oddly enough, even though I’ve never been to a hockey game, I have advertised at Madison Square Garden. My company sells roses that last a year or more. Maybe you’ve seen one of our billboards.”

“The ones that have a guy sleeping with his head in the doghouse?”

I smiled. “That’s the one. My friend Maggie does all the marketing. She got the idea because her soon-to-be ex-husband was always in the doghouse and coming home with flowers.”

“I’ve sent your flowers to my sister-in-law. Last time I was at her house, my brother and I were goofing around and we broke a chair. She wouldn’t let me pay for it, so I sent one of those big, round, hatbox-looking arrangements. Your website is funny, too, right? I remember it had a page with suggested notes for when you were in the doghouse. I used one for the card I sent with the flowers.”

I nodded. “I used to pick all of those myself when I first started. It was one of the things I enjoyed doing most. But we update so often now, I don’t have the time anymore.”

“That’s pretty cool. But I gotta say…those things were expensive as shit. I think the big one I sent was something like six-hundred bucks.”

“Does your sister-in-law love them?”

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