On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) (11 page)

Chapter Thirteen

"Why do you keep looking at your watch? You act like you have someplace you need to be."

Kenny glanced at Harland then frowned—and not just because Harland had actually noticed him checking the time. His teammate had been annoying the hell out of him all week. Asking stupid questions. Making stupid comments.

Who are you talking to?

Why are you checking your phone?

Why are you smiling like that?

Kenny didn't think he would have been quite so annoyed if the Banners had played a little better than they had. The trip out west had resulted in two losses, one win, and one overtime tie—not exactly what any of them had hoped for. This afternoon's game had been especially brutal, their hard-fought win coming at a physical cost nobody had expected. Alec Kolchak, the team's goalie, had taken a hard hit that ended with him leaving in the middle of the second period with a knee injury.

The Vancouver player had been given a shitty two-minute penalty, that was it. Kenny took care of that in the third period, making sure the asshole got the message to leave their goalie alone. Yes, he'd been ejected from the game but it had been worth it, worth seeing the small nod from both Coach LeBlanc and Coach Reyes as he made his way to the tunnel with blood pouring from his broken nose and his left eye already starting to swell.

He took satisfaction in knowing the other guy looked worse.

So yeah, his mood wasn't the greatest and Harland wasn't helping any. He was tired, sore, and his fucking face was throbbing in places he didn't even know could throb. The only thing that was keeping him from turning in his seat and throttling Harland was the fact that he'd be able to talk to Lauren tonight when he got home without worrying about waking her up.

Maybe.

He glanced at his watch again then cursed under his breath when he realized it was later than he thought. By the time they landed and he grabbed his gear and got home, it would definitely be too late to call.

Or maybe too early. If he managed to keep his sorry ass awake for an hour when he got home, he might be able to call her and say good morning.

Maybe. If she happened to be an early riser.

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat, weighing the odds of staying awake long enough to call her at a reasonable hour. What time did she usually get up for work? He knew Lauren was an early riser on the weekends. She had to be for the early games she refereed. He didn't have a clue about during the week, though. He'd never thought to ask during their phone calls this past week.

Calls he hadn't expected to really make. Calls he hadn't expected to enjoy as much as he did.

Lauren wasn't what he expected, not after that first encounter at the rink more than a month ago. She was funny, sarcastic, not afraid to speak her mind. And she didn't try to stroke his ego, either. In fact, she was just as likely to give him hell about a play as she was to compliment him. A smile tugged at his mouth and he fought it, figuring Harland might see and question him again. And he wasn't about to tell Harland that he was smiling because Lauren tended to call him by his last name whenever she was giving him hell about a play she saw as questionable.

Which meant she was only calling him by his first name about half the time. Thank God the coaching staff didn't have the problems she did with some of his playing. If they did, there was no doubt in his mind that he'd back in York, playing in the minors for the Bombers instead of the Banners.

A tiny prickle of doubt crept into his mind and he pushed it away, cursing himself for letting it back in to begin with. They may not have won every road game this past trip but his play had been solid enough that Sonny moved him up to the second line and increased his ice time. If Kenny wanted to stay there, he needed to focus on his game instead of doubting his ability.

Harland nudged him in the side, completely oblivious to the fact that he wanted to be left alone.

"What are you doing today?"

Kenny scowled at him but he didn't even notice. "Sleeping. Why?"

"Just wondering if you wanted to grab lunch later."

"Hell no. I'm not doing anything today except sleeping and getting friendly with some ice."

Harland laughed, the sound too loud. "Yeah, only you would think it was fine to get friendly with some ice. You should come out with me later tonight. I'm meeting up with a girl, I'm sure she could find a friend for you."

"Not interested." Unless it was Lauren, of course. And no way in hell was he going to tell Harland that. A sudden thought came to him and he turned in his seat, frowning. "Which girl? It's not the one you left the Casino Night with, is it?"

Harland finally looked at him, frowning. "I didn't leave with anyone that night."

"Yeah you did. The short blonde? The one who was hanging all over you?"

"No way. Not me."

"Bullshit."

"No bullshit. Yeah, she was hanging all over me but I didn't leave with her."

Kenny studied him for a long minute. Lowered brows, clenched jaw…and only a hint of confusion in his light eyes. Why would Harland lie about leaving with Lauren's sister? Especially since he bragged about everyone else. He wouldn't, not for any reason that Kenny could think of.

"You really didn't leave with her?"

"Really, man. There was something—I don't know—off about her. Or something. Besides, she was too wasted for me. I'm not taking those kinds of chances. I'm not that desperate. Or that big of a dick."

"So you really didn't leave with her?"

"No, man, I didn't. How many times do I have to tell you that? And why all the questions, anyway? You know her or something?"

"No." Kenny shook his head then turned back in his seat. "No, I don't know her."

But he knew Lauren. And he knew Lauren had said that her sister claimed to have gone home with
him
that night. So where in the hell had she really gone, and why the hell was she lying about it?

Had Lauren ever questioned her sister? Kenny hadn't thought to ask. In fact, Kenny had done his best to put the whole thing out of his mind since he'd learned about it last weekend during the bowling party. He didn't want to think about it, didn't care anything about the sister. He didn't have to know her to realize she was nothing but trouble and that Lauren's brother was right: she was immature, irresponsible, and doing nothing but using Lauren.

So why the hell was he thinking about it now?

Hell if he knew. Maybe he was just too tired, too beat up, to keep his mind focused on any one thing right now. That was as good an explanation as any.

He closed his eyes and settled back in the seat, forcing his body to relax and his mind to empty until they finally landed. The only thing he really succeeded in doing was making himself more tired, so that by the time he finally walked through the door of his apartment a little more than two hours later, the only thing he was ready to do was fall face-first onto his bed.

But he couldn't do that, not yet. First, he'd only cause his face to hurt worse if he did. Second, he wanted a cold shower and a cup of coffee, just enough to brush the cobwebs from his mind so he could stay up long enough to maybe call Lauren without waking her up.

He had just gotten out of the shower and managed to wrap a towel around his waist when he heard his phone beeping in the other room, signaling a text message. He grabbed another towel and ran it over his hair as he walked out of the bathroom.

A grin tugged at his mouth as he read the unexpected message.

How's the face?

I'll survive.
He paused, his grin growing wider as he typed a second line.
Want to come kiss it and make it better?

Silence. No response at all, just the sight of his screen going dark.

Great, just what he got for pushing it. He hadn't brought up their one kiss—their one entirely too short and mind-blowing kiss—since their first conversation the night it had happened, precisely for this reason. He hadn't wanted to push, just in case Lauren thought that was all he was interested in. And not bringing it up had been fine, because their conversations had been relaxed and light-hearted, easy-going chances to get to know one another with no pressure and no expectations.

Yeah, way to blow the entire last week.

Kenny stared at the dark screen, wondering if he should send another message, something witty or sarcastic. Except he was too tired to be either of those things. He was still debating what to do when the phone rang, the noise so loud and sharp that he almost dropped the phone like a freaking idiot.

The incoming number was Lauren's. Well who else would it be? He just texted her, for crying out loud. Maybe she was calling to tell him to stop bothering her or—

Or maybe he should just answer it instead of staring at it like he was braindead. He tapped the screen then held the phone to his ear. "Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Said what?" Her voice was a little deeper, husky with sleep. Was she still in bed? He had a sudden visual of her laying back against a pile of soft pillows, her silky hair mussed from sleep, her wide eyes soft and dreamy.

Kenny squeezed his eyes closed and cleared his throat. "Uh, about the, you know, making it better thing."

She laughed, the sound low and throaty. "Don't be."

He heard something bang in the background, followed by a muttered curse. "What was that?"

"Just me, stumbling for the coffee maker."

"Why are you even awake? I figured you'd still be in bed sleeping."

"Nope. I'm grabbing my coffee then heading downstairs to the gym before I go to work."

Kenny glanced at his watch. Maybe he set it wrong and it was later than he thought. Another glance at the alarm clock by his bed told him no, his watch was right. He sat down on the bed then fell all the way back, his muscles stretching and pulling with the move. "Do you always get up this early to go work out?"

"At least three times a week, whether I want to or not. Sometimes more."

"You like to jog?"

He heard a little groan, followed by a loud gurgling that had to be coffee brewing. "Only when I'm feeling particularly masochistic."

Kenny laughed. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I get the urge to be sadistic."

"You get that urge often?"

"Only on the ice."

"Which is why your face is probably throbbing right now, Haskell."

"You don't fu—mess with the goalie."

Lauren laughed, either at his near-slip or at the steely tone in his voice. "I'm not going to argue with you on that one. Fair fight, fair call."

"Holy shit. You're actually agreeing with me? I don't believe it."

"I know. Amazing, isn't it? This might call for some kind of celebration."

Kenny swallowed and told his body to calm down, told himself not to read too much into it. She didn't mean anything by it. Or if she did, certainly not what he was hoping she meant. That didn't stop a hint of hope from creeping into his voice. "What kind of celebration?"

"I was thinking maybe dinner tonight. At my place."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just don't expect too much. I was thinking more along the lines of spaghetti and salad."

"Spaghetti's good."

"Is six too early for you?"

"No, six works."

"Good. I'll text you my address later. Go get some sleep, you sound beat."

Beat? Not anymore, not with the thought of seeing Lauren later tonight running through his mind. But he didn't tell her that, just told her to have fun at the gym and that he'd see her later.

He ended the call then repositioned himself on the bed and stretched out, the phone still in his hand as a smile spread across his face. No, he shouldn't read too much into it. It was just dinner. A simple dinner.

That didn't mean he couldn't hope, just a little.

Chapter Fourteen

Kenny stepped off the elevator and turned right then came to a sudden stop. A large atrium courtyard opened to his left and he moved closer to the long half wall and looked four-stories down. Small white lights twinkled in the tall trees. Bushes and shrubs lined stone walkways, broken here and there with clusters of benches or strategically placed boulders of different sizes. There was even a picnic area near the far end. Nothing huge, just several tables arranged around a few grills. Was that—? He leaned against the wall to get a closer look. Yes, there was even a pond with a small waterfall.

His gaze drifted up to the glass ceiling above him, the sky dark beyond it. If he didn't know better, he'd actually think he was outside instead of in a converted warehouse.

Because that's what Lauren's building was, nothing more than an old warehouse that ran one block wide and maybe two long. The outside had been restored and cleaned up, but it still looked like a warehouse. He certainly hadn't expected to see this on the inside, especially when it wasn't visible from the small lobby entrance.

He continued along the hallway, looking for the right number. There it was, 416, at the end of the hall. He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath, looking down at himself. Brown loafers, relatively nice jeans, long sleeve button-down shirt. Not too dressy, not too casual. At least, that's what he was hoping.

He shifted the bottle of wine to his left hand and was ready to knock on the door when it pulled open in front of him. Fast, like whoever was on the other side was in a hurry. Kenny stepped back in surprise then quickly stepped to the side, out of the way, when Lauren's sister sped past him, her long blonde hair flying behind her and an expression of anger marring her face. She didn't even look at him. He wasn't even sure if she realized he was standing there.

The door didn't close all the way behind her, leaving a gap of maybe ten inches. Kenny hesitated, not sure what to do. Knock on the door? Open it and go in?

He decided on both, pushing the door open a little more and popping his head in without actually going inside. "Lauren?" He waited a few seconds then finally rapped on the door, raising his voice a little louder and calling her name again.

"Yeah, I'm in here. Come on in."

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him then looked around. The small hallway opened onto a high-ceilinged living room with large windows set into the outside brick wall. A smaller dining area sat to the right, separated from the open kitchen area by a functioning counter island. Gleaming stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops glowed in the soft pendant light hanging from the kitchen ceiling.

Lauren looked up from cutting vegetables, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. Kenny paused, watching as she brought a knife down on a cucumber with more force than necessary. The end of the cucumber flew off and bounced across the tile floor. Lauren looked down at it, frowning, then took another whack at the unsuspecting vegetable.

"Is it a bad time?"

"Nope, not at all." She finished chopping the cucumber then scooped the pieces up and threw them into a large bowl.

"Are you sure it's not a bad time? We can always—"

"Nope. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. Unless you want the salad now. That's ready to go."

"Are you sure you don't need to kill it a few more times first? Maybe behead the broccoli, show it who's boss?"

Lauren's head snapped around, her lips pursed and her brows lowered over her eyes. Kenny wondered if maybe he'd gone too far in trying to make her smile and he waited to see what she would do. Yell at him? Tell him to get out? Pretend he was a cucumber and mutilate him?

And shit, that wasn't a visual he needed. Wrong freaking vegetable to be thinking of. But he couldn't stop the grin that threatened to break free and he quickly looked away, hoping to hide it.

"So I guess you think this is funny?"

"No. Not at all. I was just thinking of cucumbers and worrying about—" Kenny snapped his mouth shut and looked away, his face heating. He cleared his throat then held up the bottle in his hand. "I brought wine. Why don't you go sit down and I'll fix you a glass?"

Lauren tilted her head to the side and tucked the hair behind her ears. A wavy lock fell back against her cheek, shimmering in soft light. Was he imagining it, or was she trying to hide her own smile? "You worried about me with a knife?"

"I saw what you did to that cucumber. Let's just say I'm not taking any chances." He stepped into the kitchen area and put the bottle on the counter. "Just point me to the corkscrew and glasses then have a seat."

"You really don't trust me, do you?" She leaned against the counter and rested her arms behind her, the movement pulling the soft shirt tighter across her chest. Kenny raised a single brow in her direction, forcing himself to keep his eyes on hers instead of looking down.

"Has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with self-preservation. Remember, I know first-hand what you can do with nothing more than a gym bag."

Lauren finally smiled, the action relaxing the lines in her forehead and easing some of the tension in her shoulders. "That bad, huh? The corkscrew's in the middle drawer, next to the dishwasher."

Kenny moved to the other side of the kitchen, searching through the drawer then glancing over his shoulder. "No, not that bad. I'm guessing you had an argument with your sister?"

She didn't say anything at first but Kenny could tell she was upset. Anger and sorrow flashed in the depths of her eyes. Her shoulders tightened again, pulling up a little closer to her ears, like she was trying to make herself smaller, less vulnerable.

He used the corkscrew to open the bottle then opened several cabinets until he found the one with wine glasses. He pulled two out, filled them, then carried them over to Lauren.

She took hers and absently raised it to her mouth, taking a small sip. Kenny wondered if she even tasted the wine.

"Argument. Yeah, you could say that." She glanced up at him then looked away and took another sip. "Today was the first day I've seen Lindsay since last Monday, when I got home from work. She didn't understand why I was angry that she had taken my car. Or why I got pissed when she wouldn't tell me where she was. She left. Just took off."

"I take it she came back?"

"Yeah." Lauren laughed, the sound short and humorless. "About an hour ago. Waltzed in like she owned the place with no explanation. Nothing. Just asked what was for dinner."

Kenny took a long sip of his own wine, watching Lauren, waiting. She pushed the hair behind her ear again then looked up at him, a brittle smile on her face.

"I told her I was having company and she wasn't welcome to stay."

Kenny placed his glass on the counter and swallowed the sigh that wanted to escape. "Lauren, if this is a bad time, I can leave. We don't have to do this tonight."

"Are you kidding? After I just sacrificed those vegetables? No, I'll be fine. Just ignore me." She sat her glass next to his then moved toward the stove. Kenny didn't think, just reached out and grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. Just a gentle one, one she could easily pull away from if she wanted to.

She stiffened at first. Uncomfortable, or maybe caught off-guard. Then her body relaxed and softened, her arms slowly closing around his waist. She rested her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck when she sighed. The scent of her shampoo teased his nose. Something light and fresh, with maybe just a hint of spice. Definitely not flowery. No, flowery didn't fit Lauren. He shouldn't know that, not really, but he did.

Her body relaxed even more against his, her curves molding against him, her body a perfect fit. He tightened his arms around her and just stood there, holding her. Ignoring the air thickening around them, hot and heavy. Ignoring his body's reaction to her.

Lauren sighed again and snuggled a little closer. "This is nice. Not having to bend down to hold someone."

Kenny choked back his laugh. "I never thought about it but you're right, it is." And it was. Lauren was the perfect height for him. He was 6'1", not exactly what he considered tall. His father was taller than he was. At least half the guys on the team were his height, if not taller. But the last few times he'd been out, the women had barely reached his shoulder—and that was when they were wearing heels. So yeah, it was definitely nice to hold someone, to be able to look at someone, without bending his neck to do it.

He breathed in again, inhaling her scent, then closed his eyes. "You smell nice, too."

"What?" She pulled back, just enough to look at him, one corner of her mouth tilted in a grin. "Are you smelling me?"

"No! Uh, no. I mean, I just—you're right here and I—" He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I meant it as a compliment. And I think I'll just shut-up now."

"What you smell is garlic and cucumber. But thank you, anyway." She pressed a quick kiss against his cheek then stepped out of his hold before he could blink, let alone react. "And speaking of garlic and cucumber, are you ready to eat?"

Yeah, he was, but he didn't think she meant what he was thinking. Kenny silently cursed himself for missing a golden opportunity then reached for his wine. "Whenever you're ready."

"Why don't you grab the salad dressing from the refrigerator and I'll dump the spaghetti in and get the garlic bread ready."

Kenny did as requested, helping with the plates and silverware as well until the table was set and dinner was ready. He finished his wine and poured himself another, then held the bottle out to Lauren.

"Ready for more?"

"Maybe later. I'm usually a two-drink limit person so I'll wait."

"Two drinks, huh?"

"Usually. At least if I go out, I am." She looked across the table and gave him a smile. "Maybe I'll make an exception tonight, since we're celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Kenny frowned, not quite following her. Then he recalled their conversation earlier, about celebrating her agreeing with him, and chuckled. "That's right. Well then, to celebrations."

He raised his glass and gently touched it to hers, the glasses making a small tinkling sound as they came together. Kenny watched as she took a small sip, watched as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. He looked away, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, to be suddenly staring at her, watching every move she made. He was acting like a sixteen-year-old who had never been on a date before, obsessed and excited and too eager for more. This was a dinner between friends, nothing more.

But were they even friends? He felt like they were, but maybe that was just him. Maybe he was reading too much into too little too soon.

And maybe he should just stop worrying and start eating because it certainly didn't look like the woman sitting across from him was having any problems, mentally arguing with herself.

He stabbed the salad, piercing some cucumber and lettuce and slice of tomato, and brought it to his mouth. His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in as he slowly chewed. Her place was nice. Homey, comfortable, decorated in pale greens and peaches with lots of plants. It was a place you could come home to and relax, an oasis away from the outside craziness and bustle.

"Your place is nice. Have you lived here long?"

Lauren glanced around then shrugged. "Almost three years. These were originally apartments when I first moved in, then the building changed ownership and they were made into condos. I didn't think I'd be able to afford it at first."

"I take it you made it work?"

She smiled, just a small one that curved her full mouth with a tiny bit of humor. "Yeah. Barely. It wasn't easy but I wanted it so—" She shrugged again, the gesture telling him more than her words.

"So you made it work."

"Yeah. It completely depleted my meager savings and I think I ate nothing but ramen for a year, but I made it work. Then Rick's business started to take off so I graduated to mac and cheese."

"And now you're up to spaghetti."

Lauren laughed just as the stove buzzer went off. She pushed back from the table, waving off his help, and moved into the kitchen. "Spaghetti is easier than steak so yeah."

She gave him another grin then turned away, busying herself with draining and rinsing the pasta. Kenny shifted in his chair, turning so he could watch her, his gaze drifting to her ass as she bent over to pull the garlic bread from the oven. She had a nice ass, firm and high, almost heart-shaped. And he had thought her ass looked nice in the padded pants of her ref's uniform?
Nice
didn't come close to describing it, not with the way the worn denim of her faded jeans hugged the tight curves.

"You're staring."

"What?" Kenny pulled his gaze away from her ass and looked up, surprised to see her watching him over her shoulder. He cleared his throat and reached for the glass of wine, hoping that would hide the fact that his face was heating at being caught. She laughed, the sound soft and warm. Kenny looked around, his mind searching for something to say to change the subject. "So I take it you like plants?"

"Hm?" Lauren leaned her hip against the counter, her gaze moving around the room. Another smile teased her mouth as she nodded. "Yeah, I do. I have to be careful or I'm going to end up living in a jungle. I go overboard in the summer because I put a lot of them out on the balcony, then end up buying more for inside because the place looks empty."