So, I saw the worry, but I also saw the warning.
Stay away, G. He's mine.
Ben glanced between the two of us. "I was just talking to your girlfriend about her art."
Wait. What?
"She's not my girlfriend," Matt murmured turning back to Ben. "She's my sister."
"Oh." Ben dark gaze rested on me for a second. Or maybe it was two. However long it was, it was enough time to kick start my heart and that delicious, warm, feeling flooded my stomach, settling low in my belly. That delicious, warm feeling that had abandoned me ages ago.
Wow. He was pretty damn potent to wring that kind of reaction from poor old medicated me. Though I supposed a physical reaction to someone like Ben Lancaster was a good thing. It meant that there were parts of me that weren't dead.
I glanced at Matt-who was frowning in my direction-and sighed.
It was those parts of me that he was afraid of, and if I'd learned anything from the last year and a half, I should be more than a little scared of it myself. When I went off, the sky was the limit.
No, that wasn't true either. When I went off, there was no limit and when there was no ceiling above you, there sure as hell wasn't anything soft to catch you when you fell.
"Yes, she's my little sister," Matt said again-emphasizing the little part-before moving toward the kitchen. "She's off limits, Lancaster."
Ben laughed, as if he thought Matt was kidding, but he'd have to be an idiot not to catch the underlying warning in my brother's words.
"She doesn't look so little to me, but I get where you're coming from. I've got a couple sisters of my own."
I glanced away, biting my lip.
I bet they're not as fucked up as I am.
Chapter Three
Ben
There was something about Matt's sister. I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly, but it was there. Some invisible ‘thing' she had, an energy or state of being.
Whatever it was, it had my interest and-as I watched her take a sip of iced tea-I realized that whatever the hell that invisible thing was I wanted it. I wanted her.
Simple as that. I. Wanted. Her.
Georgia King. Sister to one of my coaches. How fucking inconvenient.
The fact that I was even considering the possibility of Georgia was insane. Matt had already lifted his leg and pissed all over that idea. He didn't want his sister involved with one of his guys. I got that. He probably thought it could problems and he was probably right.
But that didn't mean I couldn't look. And maybe fantasize a bit.
She swallowed the iced tea and her tongue darted out to slide along the inside corner of her mouth. Fucking Hell. Okay, I could fantasize a lot.
For a second I let my mind wander to what I'd seen when I had first walked into Matt's place. She had been in front of the window, her back to me, and her perfect ass on display in a pair of panties that cupped those sweet cheeks like a treasure.
Her body rocked in a way I hadn't seen in a while because most of the women I met were hard bodies. All they did was workout and pretend to eat while filling up on protein shakes, plates of greens and not much else.
Playing professional hockey didn't leave a hell of a lot of time for relationships-not that I was looking-and most of the women I met during the season were nothing but high end puck bunnies. I'd spent the first three years of my professional hockey career in LA playing for the Kings. Trust me, most of the girls who hung around the team were there for one reason only-they wanted to have sex with a hockey player and if they were really lucky, they might even get to date the guy for a while.
They were usually blonde and stacked. Stacked with overly large, overly fake tits that while I could appreciate on some level (who the hell didn't enjoy those things bouncing in their face as some blonde rode you like it was an Olympic sport,) at the end of the day they weren't real. And neither were the hookups. They were about gratification and a good time.
But this girl with her sweet ass, petite build and breasts that were definitely real, had my mind going south and my dick hard. And that was a problem because she was Matt's sister. There was a code. A guy code and he'd already thrown down.
I glanced at her again. But what a problem.
Her eyes were amazing. They reminded me of that famous picture of the girl from the cover of Time Magazine or maybe it was National Geographic. The exotic girl with the light eyes. My grandmother kept it on the table near her fireplace and though I'd seen the thing a hundred times, I'd never really given the picture much thought until now.
Because her eyes reminded me of Georgia's. They were exotic. They were fantastic.
And they'd been avoiding me since Matt walked through the door.
"So, Lancaster," Matt said as he relaxed in his chair and took another swig of his beer. He'd ordered Thai from a restaurant and we had just finished eating. "What are you looking to buy? You're gonna be here a while so you don't want to rush things." His grin was contagious.
Damn straight. I'd just inked a ten year contract that was going to pay me a shit-ton of cash to do what I loved the most. Play hockey.
The truth of it was, the Flyers had always been my team. And this is from a kid who grew up near Toronto, where if you weren't a Leaf fan, you were nothing. I'd been drafted in the first round by LA, third pick overall, and while the Kings were a fine team, the Flyers had always been my dream. When my contract expired it had been a no brainer and I had my agent push for a trade. Luckily, the Kings were in need of a goalie and some defensemen and we'd been able to broker a deal.
So here I was. What was I looking to buy? The fucking moon.
"Let me guess," Georgia said softly. Her eyes were lowered and she fingered her now empty glass. "You're looking for something similar to Matt's, probably not far from here. Something close to the bars and the nightlife."
Wrong.
"Actually I want something outside of the city. Preferably a place with a bit of property too. A fixer upper."
She glanced up quickly. "Really." She was surprised.
I liked that she was surprised. "Really," I answered with a slow grin. "I like working with my hands."
A heartbeat passed and her gaze never wavered. That heat in my gut curled something fierce. My cock twitched.
"I bet you do," she finally replied.
Matt cleared his throat. "Did you find a real estate agent? I've got a few connections. The chick who helped me find this place is really good."
I shook my head. "Nah. I did some homework. I've got a bunch of properties I want to check out, so I thought I'd take some time over the next few days and look myself before I approach an agent." A thought crossed my mind and I frowned. "Unless it's too much for you guys. I can go to a hotel."
"No, it's fine." Matt shrugged. "As long as you don't mind sleeping on the pullout sofa in the office. Georgia is crashing here at the moment and has the extra bedroom."
"I don't mind." My gaze was back on Georgia and this time she didn't look away.
"You're Canadian," she said.
"Yep. I'm a Canuck."
"Your accent isn't as pronounced as the others."
"The others?"
She reached for her iced tea but it was empty, so her fingers slid along the top, nice and slow, trailing along the condensation that fell down the side. "The other Canadians on the team."
I wondered which ones she knew and how well she knew them.
"My mother is American, which was one of the reasons I went to Bowling Green University in Ohio. That could have something to do with it."
"Hmm, that's probably it," she said.
"And I try not to say, ‘eh' in every other sentence"
"That's too bad. I find it sweet."
Sweet wasn't exactly a word I'd use to describe myself.
Sweet wasn't exactly how I'd describe the look in Georgia's eyes either. I shifted uncomfortably and a slight smile drifted over her face, as if she knew I was sporting a hard on the size of a fucking football beneath the table.
I didn't know what this was between us, but it was something and I realized it was gonna be hard to honor the ‘hands off' thing. I also wondered how serious Matt was about it.