A primal satisfaction filled him that she wore his name and number. He wanted no doubt in this testosterone-filled building whose woman she was.
So far, so good. The friendly atmosphere had relaxed her. He looked forward to explaining the game and building her appreciation for hockey. As well as building her appreciation for him.
As the players got ready for the opening face-off, Maggie leaned toward him. “Why are there only six from each team on the ice?”
Her scent, fresh with an enticing hint of spice, almost made him forget the basics of a sport he’d played since he was a kid. He gulped, then explained. She nodded, then turned her attention to the game. A few stray curls brushed his cheek, as soft as a caress. Jake shifted to ease the tightness in his trousers.
The movement brought his knee against hers. He swore silently. Only a minute played and he was hard and aching. How the hell was he going to last one period, let alone three?
When she made no effort to break the contact, he forced himself to relax. As if he could have moved his knee anyway.
“What’s going on here?” She leaned close again.
For a moment, Jake wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt as awkward as a teenager on his first date. Then he realized she was referring to the game. A quick glance showed Larocque headed to the box as the ref announced the penalty.
“Hooking.” He outlined the kid’s mistake and what would happen next.
“The team goes down a man for two minutes?” she exclaimed. “That’s a massive advantage to Carolina.”
“You break the rules in any sport, you have to pay the price. The kid’ll learn his lesson.”
Sure enough, the Hurricanes scored quickly. While they celebrated, JB skated back to the Cats’ bench. He smacked his stick against the boards.
Throughout the period, Maggie’s questions came thick and fast. She was a quick study. As her understanding grew, so did her involvement in the game. Before long, she was cheering the Cats, jeering at the ’Canes and cursing the refs like an old pro.
“What game are you watching?” she yelled after a missed call.
Jake laughed.
Her eyes blazed. “How can you be so blasé? Vlad’s cheek’s cut because that guy was careless with his stick.”
“I’d be mad as hell if the refs had missed a high-sticking call in a game that mattered, for sure. But this is the preseason. A little blood’s nothing to worry about,” he reassured her.
She turned back to the play with a disgusted harrumph.
Maggie’s reaction sent up a warning flare. If she was pissed about a small cut, how would she react to something worse? The chances of a fight in a preseason game were slim, but he watched time count down with a nervous knot in his gut.
As the last minute of play was announced, the action heated up. The Cats buzzed around Carolina’s net. The pace became intense.
Maggie became intense, too, her concentration focused. She edged closer to him, her arm pressed against his.
Jake’s pulse began to pound.
Sticks clashed. Blades scraped. Players shouted.
Her fingers curved into his arm, her touch searing him.
The puck slammed into the boards.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
Ten seconds and nine...
Her grip tightened.
His groin tightened.
Two seconds and one...
The blaring horn jolted Jake’s mind out of its cloudy haze.
“What a shame they didn’t score. Is that halftime?” Maggie’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.
“It’s the first intermission. We play three periods.”
“Of course.”
People around them got food and replenished drinks.
“What do you think so far?” he asked, hoping the bulge in his pants wasn’t obvious.
“It’s fast paced and exciting. Lots of action, but still quite easy to follow.”
All right! “Sounds like you’re hooked,” he said as they rose to get refreshments.
“It’s entertaining, but I don’t know if I’m a full-fledged fan.”
Given how she rushed them back to their seats as the second period was announced, he figured she was kidding herself.
Gradually, Jake began to relax and focus on the game. The only thing missing was an Ice Cats goal. He’d bet Maggie would celebrate enthusiastically.
Sure enough, when Larocque banged in a scorcher from the blue line near the end of the second period, she leaped to her feet, cheering.
Their gazes locked. She moved half a step closer, as if to hug him.
His body tensed, anticipating the feel of her against him. Wanting it.
Instead, she raised her palm for a high-five.
He’d have been disappointed but for the heat smoldering in her eyes.
Jake willed the Cats to score again.
Unfortunately, the period ended with the guys down by one.