Gauging the Player: A One-Night-Stand Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 3), стр. 27

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.

Gage stared out the windshield. Ten long beats passed before he nodded. “Where’s Jack?”

Stinging tears swarmed the backs of her eyes, blurring her vision. Damn it! “Well, um, Jack is … He died four years ago.” She made an angry swipe at her cheek. “It’ll be five years this July.”

Gage snapped his head back to her, his mouth swinging open. “That’s why you volunteer as a grief counselor.”

Her answer came in a feeble nod.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Another brush at her cheek, with the heel of her hand this time. “Yeah, me too.” She could practically hear her heart ripping in two. Again.

He bounced his thumb on the steering wheel for what seemed forever. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course,” she sniffed.

“Is every female in your family named after a plant?”

She burst out with a laugh despite her tears. “What?”

“Lily, Ivy, Daisy, Violet. What’s your mom’s name?” One side of his mouth curled up, and his eyes held hers with kindness, understanding. Not the pity or disdain she’d expected. She found herself swamped with gratitude, warm and soothing, as though she’d immersed her body in a bubbling hot spring.

Half laughing, half crying, she said, “Her name’s Rose.”

He broke into a full grin. “Of course it is.”

They sat quietly. He seemed to be giving her time to pull herself together.

“I’d better get inside before Derek comes back out,” she finally said.

“I have another question.”

“I probably have another answer.” She smiled weakly, thinking she knew what the question was. Guilt, or obligation, prodded her to rush ahead. “Daisy was spending a week with my folks last summer when I met you at the wedding.” She didn’t want Gage thinking she was an irresponsible mom, sticking her daughter with some random sitter just so she could get herself good and fucked. Well, while she hadn’t set out to do it, she had gotten herself good and fucked, but she hadn’t foisted Daisy off just so she could.

“That wasn’t the question.” His voice was so low she barely heard him.

“Oh?”

He shocked the hell out of her—again—when he said, “Would it be all right if I met Daisy?”

Her jaw dropped, and a few pounds of worry weight came off. Was he for real?

“Not tonight,” he quickly added, studying her expression. “But I would like to meet her. After all, you’re working for me, and I make it a point to get to know my employees’ families.”

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more: that he wanted to meet Daisy, or that he had other people working for him. “You … you have other employees?”

“No, but I figure now’s as good a time as any to put policies into place.” He gave her a goofy grin that had her shoulders shedding even more weight.

What if she’d been wrong about Gage Nelson? What if he was an average, all-around nice guy? God, she wanted to throw her arms around his strong neck and hug him tight. Before she could let impulse take her, the curtain in her front window opened.

He lifted his chin toward it. “I think your brother-in-law’s sending signals that he wants you inside and me gone.”

She gathered up her purse. “Yeah, I should go. Daisy—”

“Will be anxious to see her mom.” With that, he climbed out of the driver’s seat and strode to the passenger door, opening it for her.

“I can see myself to the door.”

One eyebrow arched. “I’m sure you can, but I’d feel better walking you there.”

Suddenly shy, she squeaked out an “okay” and let him escort her up the walkway.

Her hand hovering on the doorknob, she looked up at him. “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed myself. It’s been a long time.”

He bowed his head. “My pleasure, Lily Everett. Sweet dreams.” He pivoted and headed back to his car.

All of her wanted to run after him, to throw her arms around him and feel his solid warmth. But all of her opened the door and stepped inside instead. It was what good mothers did.

Gage pulled away from the curb. When he rounded the corner, he shot the car forward, his mind going at dragster speed but in a fractured line.

Slowing once more, he tugged his hand over his beard and puffed out a huge exhale. “Shit,” he muttered.

Grandma must have hit him upside the head again because he immediately challenged himself. “So she’s got a kid. So what? You’re not even together.”

“I don’t know anything about kids anyway, Grandma,” he said aloud, checking his rearview mirror, half expecting to see Grandma sitting in his backseat. Yeah, he was losing it.

“Back all the way up, doofus,” he told himself, “this is a business arrangement. Which is a good thing because you don’t have time to chase anything besides the Stanley Cup. No girlfriend, with or without kids. No touching, no … Just no. You don’t wanna go there. Not that she’d let you anyway,” he huffed. Still, he’d felt that familiar electrical charge around her the entire day, and it had done funny things to him below the belt. Things he’d have to deal with on his own later.

He rolled to a stop at a traffic signal and darted his eyes to the rearview again. He threw out a “Fuck!” for good measure, then muttered, “You shouldn’t have touched her hair, stupid.” Yeah. Like not doing that could erase the kid and the dead husband. Or make her want him.

A horn sounded beside him. When he glanced over, two women were checking him out. One made a sad face, as if asking what the hell his problem was. Then she crooked her finger at him with a wicked smile. Yeah, he got that message loud and clear too. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, he didn’t realize the light had changed until the women pulled into the intersection and slowed, as if waiting for him to catch up. He