Annoyed, he crossed to her and lifted her off her feet, dangling her in front of him. Despite being tall and toned, she didn’t seem to weigh much. Well, not to a guy who made a habit of consistently benching three hundred pounds. “I’ll make you pay for that, woman.”
She yawned. “Whatever.”
He placed her on her feet and gave her an angry kiss. “Just you wait.”
“Promises, promises.” She moved around him back into the main area and studied his kitchen. “Now what do you have to eat?”
CHAPTER 33
The next afternoon at the game, while Marlie and Damon sat in the team’s suite with veteran players’ family members, the owner’s cousins, and a few pumped up shareholders, giddy at meeting Demon Sinclair, Marlie did her best not to freak out at the fancy catered food and drink. Not one hot dog or slice of greasy pizza in sight.
The Portland Ice Raptors were playing the Edmonton Oilers, and she stared out at the packed stadium. People cheered while a Raptor slammed an Oiler into the boards. Damon had let her know that he’d have gotten them killer seats in the “lower bowl” if he hadn’t wanted to impress her with a fancy view from above where they wouldn’t be mobbed by people.
With his size and looks, he was too easily recognized in his home arena, and he wanted to spend time with her and not the fans. She liked that he appreciated those who came to see him and his team. Damon was dedicated to the people who rooted for him, for sure.
She sipped a beer and watched the play while Damon schmoozed with two older guys worshipping the ground he walked on. Around two dozen people had gathered in the suite set with tables layered with platters of food, a bar, behind which a bartender served orders, and a long table with bar chairs overlooking the stadium. The suite allowed for plenty of seating and space to entertain.
Damon seemed by far the most popular of the occupants, though many seemed to give deference to a few of the older couples in attendance.
Everyone dressed in designer jeans and expensive sweaters, several of the woman wearing jewelry worth more than her car. And then there was Marlie. And Damon, actually. They both had on normal jeans and the Ice Raptor sweatshirts Damon had insisted they wear to the game. She didn’t mind as the thing was soft inside. Then she’d seen a similar sweatshirt downstairs for sale for nearly eighty bucks.
When in Hope’s Turn, Damon seemed normal enough. Well, as normal as life could be for a giant with resting murder face. But here in Portland, where he belonged, he lived near professional basketball players—a Trailblazer!—and hung out with people who congregated in owner boxes in the Moda Center.
He’d even introduced her to several of his teammates before the guys ducked into the locker room to change. She recognized a few from some tabloids and others from major sponsorships with alcohol and sports labels.
Though normally a confident person, she felt a bit out of her depth with the wealth all around him. Not to mention Damon’s condo had to be worth a few million, at least. To add to that, he didn’t seem to find it odd that people looked at him with awe and, at times, fear. The guy was at home with fame.
The only thing that reassured her was that he acted the same way here that he did back at home. The same down-to-earth though arrogant-about-his-hockey-skills guy who bitched about his family and rescued kittens. Who’d threatened to beat up an obnoxious sports dad while rubbing her feet while she graded papers.
Just remembering how kind he’d been to her had her softening all over again, as she did whenever she thought too hard about how she might be falling for the big doofus.
Oh, fuck. Who was she kidding? She had a bad feeling she’d already fallen in love with the Ice Raptor’s own Demon Sinclair. And seeing him here, surrounded by his reality, showed her just how out of her league he was. So stupid to feel so much for a virtual stranger. They hadn’t known each other all that long. How could she feel so deeply for a man she’d recently met? She’d dated Ben for nearly nine months.
Yeah, and how did that turn out for you?
“Hello? Earth to Marlie.” Damon tapped her on the shoulder. “Did you see that play? Colby needs to get more aggressive.” He downed his beer and sat next to her at the bar table overlooking the stadium.
She noticed him straightening out his knee and working the joint while he focused on the ice.
“Hey, I meant to ask. I thought the games usually played at night.”
“They do.” He explained, “But we have more afternoon games on weekends to get the European crowd’s interest, I guess. Not my call, obviously. I just go where they tell me to go.” He glanced behind him and in a lower voice added, “The short guy with the bad combover? That’s Leroy, the owner’s favorite cousin. His kid plays in the Rose City Hockey Club, an ice hockey club for girls. He wants me to swing by once I’m recovered to visit and check out their goalie camp.”
“Will you?”
“I know this chick who coaches girls’ sports, and she’s pretty cool. So for her, I’d do it.”
“Girls are awesome.” She smiled at him, knowing he’d help out, not because of her, but because he didn’t see girls as less than boys. Damon liked athletes. Period.
“Plus, I love anyone who likes hockey. Why wouldn’t I help out? And I like Leroy. Unlike some of the rich pricks in here, he’s genuine.”
She scoffed. “You’re one of those rich pricks, you know.”
“Me? I just have some money. Doesn’t make me one of them.”
“Them?”
“I grew up normal. I have normal friends—not counting the morons on the ice—and family who keep me grounded. A lot of the people in here have no idea that you can’t buy everything you want.”
