Melting the Ice(11)
Movement. Men were constantly in motion, which meant they needed style and comfort. While she wanted the men’s clothes in her line to look amazing, she also knew men placed a high premium on freedom and ease in their wardrobe. Carolina jotted down some notes, her mind whirling with the possibilities of what she could create. She could write faster than she could draw, but she already had five or six ideas she wanted to sketch later, including underwear.
She grinned, wondering if Drew would model those for her, then forced that thought aside. Fitting him for underwear might be more than she could handle.
But wouldn’t he look magnificent in a print ad? She could already envision it in her mind, the angle of his body, the way they’d set up the shoot.
It was perfect. Now she’d have to drum up the courage to ask him to do it.
• • •
DREW’S ENTIRE BODY KNOTTED UP WITH TENSION AS Boyd Litman shot the puck at him. He raced forward and fought one of Denver’s defenders for it, wrestling it away and skating toward the opposing goal.
Tied one to one in the third, the last thing they needed was a tie. This had been a tough game already and he knew everyone was beat-up and exhausted. There were two minutes left in regulation. Time to end this thing.
He passed the puck to Ray Sayers and skated past the defender, getting himself into position by the goal, fighting with the defender to stay where he needed to be while Sayers and Litman fought to keep the puck away from Denver’s defender.
When the puck came toward him, he jostled with Marquette on Denver’s team, one of their toughest defenders. He took a shot and missed.
Dammit. A quick glance at the clock showed they were down to the final minute. With renewed determination, he fought for possession and gained it back, and made a tricky shot toward Litman who was right at the goal.
Litman slid it past the Denver goalie and it went in.
Drew had never seen anything sweeter than when the goal lit up. He raised his stick in the air and skated toward his teammates while the fans in the Garden went wild.
That had been a great victory, hard-won because Denver was a tough team to beat.
As they worked the line to shake hands with their opponents, Drew searched the crowd and saw Carolina, standing and clapping along with everyone else.
He liked seeing that smile on her face. He skated over to the boards and motioned for her to come down. She did.
“You played very well, though I wasn’t sure you were going to finish it off in regulation.”
“Neither did I. Will you stay and wait for me?”
She looked uncertain. “I have some work to do.”
“Did you eat?”
“Well, no.”
He shook his head, then smiled at her. “Have dinner with me.”
“I suppose I could.”
“Great. I won’t be long. Just wait right here.”
“Okay.”
He stayed long enough to sign a few autographs for some of the fans, then headed to the locker room to take a shower. He hurried out of there before he got stuck doing media interviews, which would likely piss off his coach, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight.
Not when he’d convinced Carolina to go out to dinner with him.
She was still waiting in her seat, her knees drawn up, her sketch pad on her lap. She hadn’t seen him, so he watched her. She was so engrossed in her work that nothing could shake her out of it.