Winning Streak (6 page)

Since their not-a-date, she'd only brushed by him in the hallway. When he was in his office, it was to talk with player agents behind a closed door. The trade deadline was right around the corner, so that made sense. It wasn't like he was avoiding her. Right? Not that she cared either way, but if there was avoiding to be done, she had dibs.

Curiosity got the best of her. Or maybe it was the way he still hadn't taken his eyes off her even as pint-sized hellions sprinted around him with inflatable hockey sticks. It wasn't until they started pelting him with little plastic pucks that his attention shifted. It was wrong to laugh. It was also involuntary. She covered it with a cough.

She leaned a hip against the mini rink wall and rested an elbow atop it. A box of plastic referee whistles sat on the ledge. She snagged one and blew hard, sounding an ear-splitting shriek. The munchkins abandoned their attack on Madden and resumed trying to score goals in the small nets.

“I had it under control.” But he was not very convincing as he rubbed his legs and barely kept a straight face.

“Oh, sure. I just know how big of a kid
you
can be, and I figured it was only a matter of time until they elected you their leader. Then it'd be a short hop and skip to
Lord of the Flies
.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” He ambled up to the wall and still beat her height by a few inches even with her killer heels.

“What are you doing here, anyway? You weren't on the volunteer list.”

“I know, but I figured it'd be good to be a part of this. Attach myself to the team in a positive, public way.”

He was right. That was a smart move. So why did she feel let down?

“And maybe I wanted to see you in action.”

Boom, pleasure replaced the fallen feeling. How annoying was that?
I am not supposed to like you
. “Oh yeah? And?”

“You don't disappoint. You've been buzzing around this place like a squirrel on Red Bull. Aside from the tiny insurrection just a few minutes ago, everything's run like clockwork.”

She started to smile then caught the last part of that. “Hey, how was the insurrection my fault?”

“You distracted me.” His gaze darted down her body then back up, hot as a laser.

That probably worked on a lot of women. She wasn't completely unaffected, but he'd have to try a lot harder to find a line she hadn't heard. Or invented herself. “Right. Well, you might not want to turn your back on them for too long.” She lifted her chin toward the corner where a couple of boys were wrestling on the faux ice.

“Oh, sh—crap. Hey, the game starts in half an hour. Can we talk then? Meet you in the owner's box?”

“Won't your sister and brother-in-law be there?”

“Nah, they watch by the players' entrance at ice level. Sometimes we invite friends or family, but it's empty tonight.”

Such
a bad idea. “Okay … to talk.”

“Right. Talk.” His Cheshire Cat smile hinted otherwise and made her stomach flip flop as she watched him break up the future hockey players.

She replayed that kiss from the other day in her office for the hundredth time. It was so gentle. So innocent. And followed by the fantasy of throwing him down on her desk and peeling his clothes off with her teeth.

Bad Saralynn.

Why did bad have to be so fun?

• • •

Even while keeping the peace among a swarm of kids under ten, all Madden could think about was getting some alone time with Saralynn. Now he paced the owner's box, stopped, and sat facing the ice, then turned around to sit on the table so he could watch the door. Talking to women had never fazed him before. Now his mouth was dry as all the moisture in his body seemed to go to his palms, and his heart was beating like he'd just had three espressos.

Saralynn was different but unnervingly familiar. She was immune to his best moves. Hell, she nearly made him want to give honesty a shot. She wasn't like any woman he'd met, but so many things about her matched up with his own personality blueprint.

One date was not enough. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know. He'd just brushed the surface Wednesday night, then spent Thursday and the better part of today trying to think about anything else. That plan had no chance. Especially not after Carter stepped in and took over the meetings with player agents. It had seemed a little off at first—they usually tag-teamed those things—but Carter liked to be hands-on as much as he could. Plus it gave Madden more time to think up the perfect date with Saralynn. Jace wouldn't be happy if she knew. Maybe she didn't need to know right away.

The door cracked open a sliver then eased the rest of the way, and Saralynn paused, staring past him through the window wall into the arena.

“It's okay. Everybody's watching the game. I just thought it would be quiet in here, and it's right down the hall from the press box. Figured you'd want to stop by there anyway and make sure the snacks were stocked. Those reporters love their pretzels.”

She stepped inside and closed the door with a smirk. “You know me inside and out, huh?”

No, but I'd like to
. “I'm a good guesser.” He pulled two chairs to face each other and sat in one, then lounged back with an ankle crossed over his knee. If he looked relaxed, maybe she would be.

Saralynn set her clipboard on the table, unbuttoned her blazer, then sat with her legs crossed. Even in a pantsuit, she made him sweat. The green satin tank with black lace around the low, v-shaped neckline added to the effect. And because those red, strappy sandals remained emblazoned in his mind, he let his gaze travel down her legs to find shiny black pumps with a red sole. God help him.

“You wanted to talk.”

Her voice snapped him back to the moment, and he met her eyes. How could someone look innocent and arrogant at the same time? It was sexy as hell. “Right. I was thinking … ”
I can't get you out of my mind. Let's find an Elvis officiant at the Chapel of Love and figure the rest out later.
Nope. Couldn't go with that. He sighed. “Look, I don't know what to say to you. I'm usually smoother than this, but I keep getting the feeling that your arsenal is bigger than mine, so I'm just gonna lay it out there. You took a chance on me. You believed in me and put yourself on the line. And I can't help feeling like there could really be something here. I think you feel it, too, and I want to find out. What do you say to a date-date?”

Shell-shocked would be the best way to describe how she stared at him. Was she even breathing? She blinked, long lashes brushing her cheeks once. Twice. “If we're seen out together, things could get complicated.”

“Feel free to correct me, but things are already complicated.”

She picked at the lace hem of her shirt. “I love this job.”

“I don't want you to feel pressured. You say no, we go on with business as usual. You're good for this team. I just had to ask because it would be too big of a regret if I didn't.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, but there was a playfulness to it. “Honest and vulnerable. That's a pretty bold move.”

“What, guys have never played those cards with you before?”

“Oh, no. They've played them a lot. It just never worked before.”

Muted screaming filtered through the glass wall, and he glanced over to see the Sinners celebrating a goal down on the ice. The feeling carried through him as he focused on the last thing she said. “You admit you like me.”

A smile flickered at the corners of her full lips. “You're not what I expected.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I'll let you know.”

He unfolded his legs and sat up. “Does that mean you'll go out with me?”

She opened her mouth but hesitated.

“What if I said I had an idea that would let us go out in public but be alone in one of the coolest places you've ever seen?”

“That sounds like a riddle, and I'd say you were making it up to get me to say yes.”

“I swear it's real. Do you have a camera? Other than your phone?”

“I … ” She closed her eyes for a beat then nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Where are you going with this?”

“You'll see. The team doesn't play again until Monday. Pick you up tomorrow night at seven thirty?” The words came out rapid-fire despite his attempts to stay cool. Maybe the confusing blitz would catch her off guard enough to agree.

“This is pretty elaborate for a last-minute thing, unless you already made the plans. You were so sure I'd say yes?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Okay. Out of sheer curiosity.”

“I'll take it.”

Saturday, March 1st

Wear sneakers
. One two-word text a half hour before he was supposed to pick her up, and now she had to rethink her whole outfit. Sneakers. Where the hell were they going? Saralynn flipped through hangers in her closet as fast as she could. If heels were out, a dress probably was too. The buzzer rang.
Shit! What kind of guy is on time?
The dress would have to do. A floral sundress was casual enough. She slid a faded denim vest over it and wedged her bare feet into pink Converse shoes without untying the laces.

She was halfway out of her bedroom before she turned on her tiptoes and darted back to the bed to pick up her camera. She stuffed the thing into her wristlet purse and jogged out the apartment door, nearly coming nose to chest with Madden. “You're early.”

He checked his watch. “It's seven thirty on the dot.”

“You're a guy. You're supposed to be fifteen minutes late. Didn't you read the manual?”

He started to smile, but it wavered when she kept a straight face. “I'm … sorry? Always was a skimmer. Guess I need to study. I'll do better next time.”

Why did he have to be so cute? Tonight's ensemble was typical Madden. Dark and faded but expensive jeans, a fitted, black
Vegas Is for Lovers
T-shirt, and some Doc Marten boots. Okay, those were a little unusual. “We're not going for a hike in the desert, are we?”

“Not exactly.”

“What is ‘not exactly'? I'm not a pee-behind-a-tree kind of girl.”

“Oh, you're not? I couldn't tell.”

Hands on hips, she engaged him in a staring contest. Only he was all too happy to participate according to the twinkle in his eyes. Finally, he cracked. “Look, I promise we'll be surrounded by electricity. And not just what's between us.”

All right, that was pretty impressive. She smiled and swatted at his flat stomach, then sidestepped him and headed for his car. She climbed into the passenger side of his Escalade, and when he got behind the wheel, she studied him from the corner of her eye. “Nice ride.”

He watched her for a minute. “Wow. No comment on overcompensating for something. You must like me.”

“I didn't say it. That doesn't mean I wasn't thinking it.”

Madden put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “Ooo, ouch. And here I thought Reese warned us away to protect
you
.”

Hold on. “Reese warned you away from me? When? Who else?”

“Uh, everyone in the organization with man parts. He spread the word when you first started.”

Fire flared in her face, and she could feel her heartbeat all over her body.
I'll kill him
. So it wasn't just a strange dry spell or even her own effort to put out the back-off vibe. For the past year, not one single man in the building had so much as asked for her number. Because her big brother warned them away.

“Can you blink or something? Just a sign that you're not stroking out?”

She blinked—hard—then worked at unclenching her fists. “He hasn't done that since I was fifteen.”

Madden glanced at her and reached over like he might hold her hand, but apparently thought better of it and let his arm drop to his side. “It is kind of caveman but he's just looking out for you.”

“No. You were right the first time. He was afraid I'd date around, crush some egos, and make a mess at work.” She wanted to be mad, but the worst part was, she couldn't blame him. The old Saralynn would have done that. But when Jacey hired her full-time, it was like the whole world shifted. Or at least her perception of it.

“Hey. You okay?” It was his soft tone more than the words that brought her back.

“Yeah.” She tried a smile.

“It would be more convincing without the clenched jaw.”

“I'm okay, really. Reese's threat didn't entirely work anyway. You asked me out.”

“What can I say? I'm a risk-taker.” He winked at her, and the past crumbled away. It didn't matter right now. Tonight, she was the new and improved Saralynn taking a real chance on a guy. They passed a glowing sign that said “The Neon Boneyard Park” before Madden pulled into a lot just around the corner. He cut the engine and looked at her tiny purse. “So you brought a camera?”

Embarrassment crept in before she even had a chance to show it to him. “Yeah.”

“You'll need to take it out now.”

“I … what is this place? What's going on?”

Excitement transformed his face to a five-year-old's. “This is where Vegas signs go to die. Normally, they only do guided tours, but they make an exception for photographers, and even that's usually a two-week waiting list, but they had a cancellation. I may have blurred the truth to get us an hour alone here, so we have to keep up the cover. Let's see your camera.”

She slipped her wrist out of the looped zipper pull and tried to think of a reason not to open the purse, but he looked ready to bounce out of the car without her if she delayed much longer. She wrinkled her nose and pulled it out.

His brows furrowed, and he leaned closer. “That's a camera?”

“It's the only one I have. You said I couldn't use my phone.”