Slap Shot(15)

A woman! Why the hell has he invited me here if there is already a woman in his life? I swallowed another mouthful of wine, but for some reason it tasted a little bitter now.

“Her name is Laurie Sharp, she’s twenty-eight and I slept with her once, a year ago.” His fingertip rubbed at the patch of hair beneath his bottom lip. “There is nothing between us anymore.”

“So why are you telling me this?”

“Because she has it in her head that I owe her something, like marriage, kids, a picket-fucking-fence.”

“After a one-night stand?”

His face darkened. “Yeah, after a damn one-night stand, only she doesn’t think of it as that, she thinks I’m in love with her but just don’t know it yet.”

“Are you in love with her?”

“God, no.”

I raised my brows. “Were you terribly mean to her?”

“No.” He paused. “I gave her a damn good night, she was flying high and it was obviously very memorable for her.” He shrugged. “It just wasn’t for me.”

“Did you let her down gently?”

“If you count never calling as being let down gently.”

“Did you say you would call?”

“I asked for her number.”

“So why did you ask for it?”

“It seemed polite.”

I wrinkled my nose. “If she was expecting a call and you didn’t that’s classed as mean.”

His wide shoulders shrugged and he tipped the fish into a sizzling pan. “I know, hindsight and all that.”

I watched the sleeves of his T-shirt tighten on his upper arms as he shook the pan over the heat and reached for a chopping board.

“I thought she was in it for the same thing as me, one night of fun, a bit of sharing sweat. But it seems we were on different wavelengths, very different wavelengths.”

“So what’s the problem now?”

“The problem now is she’s broken three restraining orders, been caught loitering around my house over two dozen times in the last four months, and sent me a ton of letters ranging from sweet and needy to downright threatening.”

I twirled the stem of my glass and watched the gold-tinted liquid swirl up the sides. “Has she ever gotten inside the grounds of your home?”

His gaze harnessed mine. “No, and if she had I wouldn’t have you here.”

“So why no niece and nephew visits if there isn’t a problem?”

“My sisters are wary. I come from an ordinary family, grew up in a small town in South Carolina. They’re more comfortable with the life they know. Fame and fortune is a novelty they want to dip in and out of when the going is good. When it doesn’t suit they stay away.”

“You okay with that?”

“More than okay. I would rather they weren’t coming and going if she is outside.” He began to stir the sauce he was making and put the fish back on the heat. “You like bulgur wheat?”

“Sure.”

He paused and glugged on his beer.

“So Laurie Sharp is the reason you didn’t take me to a restaurant?”

He sighed. “You probably think I’m letting her win but it’s not like that.” He reached across and rested his index finger on the back of my hand. “I just wouldn’t want to risk you, or any woman I’d asked to spend time with me, and I don’t see why I should stop doing that just because of her warped ideas.”

I stared at his thick wrist, hard tendons over bone and skin fuzzed with dark hairs. A dart of sensation shot up my arm at his gentle touch. “Do you think she’s a physical threat then?”

“She might be.”

I tipped my head, my gaze urging him to go on.

He frowned. “When the police picked her up outside the rink last week she had a gun in her purse.”





Chapter Three



The dinner was fabulous, light and tasty and perfect with the white wine. We sat outside, by the pool, the delicate splashing of the waterfall a constant melody. I didn’t mention Laurie again, I sensed he’d said what he needed to about her and wanted an evening free of the shadow. Instead Rick chatted about his family, most of whom he’d moved down to be near him, and what is was like growing up in the middle of all those siblings, the eldest boy but still fourth in line. His road to hockey stardom had been a rocky one, plagued by a back injury in his twenties. It took a year of intense treatment to get on his game again. But then there was no stopping him and within two years of being taken on by the Vipers he was captain. He’d been in this position for five years now, somewhat of a record.

“And what about you?” he asked, settling back on the chair and locking his hands behind his head, his elbows spreading wide. “You always wanted to be an event planner?”