"So you're saying you're willing to share a bed?" he asked.
"I . . . uh . . ." she sputtered.
"It's a king-­sized bed. You won't even know I'm there."
"You're a little hard to miss."
He set her bag on the bed and moved so close she could smell his clean, manly scent. "I could keep you warm if you got cold."
The idea of having his big, warm, muscular body wrapped around hers sounded very appealing.
"There's nothing to eat in here." Nicole's shout rattled from the kitchen throughout the apartment.
"Try the top shelf in the cupboard. It's where I keep the forbidden food," Jordan shouted back to his sister, then his attention zeroed right back in on Lucy. Strong arms surrounded her and drew her against his hard-­muscled body.
"You keep thinking on my offer." He lowered his head and delivered a sweet and deadly kiss that was way too quick for Lucy's liking. "It won't be the last time you hear it."
"What about the teenager in the other room?" Although Lucy liked the way he staked his claim because she'd never had a man do that before, she had to bring up the obvious. "I'm her teacher. I need to set a good example."
"You're an excellent example. And she'll have to find her own snuggling partner," he said. "Maybe I should get her a cat."
At their feet Ziggy swept his tail back and forth.
"What do you think about that, Zigmeister?" Jordan asked her dog, who gave a growly bark in response. "Unless he eats cats."
"The only things he eats are Frisbees, Beggin' Strips, and the best brand of dog food on the market. Which obviously does not help his wind problem."
"Ah. So you're one of those pet mommies."
"Yes. I spoil him. Is there something wrong with that?"
"Nope. Just trying to figure out how to get in line for some of that spoiling."
She grinned. "All you have to do is sit and lie down when you're told. Don't chase your tail. And warm my feet when they get cold."
"Done." He grinned back. "And as a bonus I'm already housebroken."
"You're a strange and funny man."
"I can show you a whole different side of me." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Preferably a naked one."
"We'll see." Playful really wasn't her thing. Neither was flirting. But she decided to give both a go. "It all depends on how well you perform your tricks."
His responding grin told her she'd hit a home run.
"Lucky for me I've got a bagful."
With a playful wink he told her to go ahead and use whatever drawers she wanted to put away her things, use as much space in the closet as she needed, then pointed to the adjoining bathroom for her to put out her toiletries. And then he slipped from the room to help Nicole, who complained loudly that forbidden food did not include all-­natural granola bars with no sugar.
Lucy stood in the middle of the room surrounded by his massive bed and his personal items. It smelled like him-­delicious, clean, and manly. This was where he bathed, dressed, slept, and God only knew what else. Yeah. She wasn't even going to think about that. She did not want to think about him in that big bed wrapped around the perfect body of one of those gorgeous blondes she'd seen photographed with him in the magazines.
Lucy carried her toiletries into the bathroom and inhaled the delicious aroma of his trademark aftershave. When she walked back into the bedroom, she looked at the bed again. Unsure of exactly what he expected from her, she knew one thing and one thing only. Jordan looked like a man who knew how to give a woman what she wanted and needed. Lucy was a woman who'd never wanted or needed before.
Until now.
Chapter 11
Over two weeks had passed since Jordan had walked into a locker room. He expected to feel like an outsider. To be given the cold shoulder. After all, he'd let his team down.
Letting people down seemed to be the thing he did best.
If anyone doubted his expertise in this area, all they had to do was ask his sister. She'd verify it in a red-­hot second.
"Good to see you, man." Center Tyler Seabrook stood and shook his hand the minute he walked into the locker room. Likewise did defenseman Beau Boucher, goalie Jack Riley, and forward Scott O'Reilly who'd recently married the nurse who stitched him up when he'd busted his face on the boards.
They asked about his family. Gave him their condolences. Apologized for not being able to attend the funeral. And proved, once again, they were good men off as well as on the ice. Of all the players on the team, the four of them were his closest friends. They partied, shot pool, played poker, and golfed together. Until two weeks ago they'd had everything in common.