Her eyebrows lifted. “So basically, typical hockey player trajectory minus the part where you still have all your teeth.”
That made me laugh. “Pure luck. What about you? You’ve been in the sports world a while?”
“Oh no. I worked in my college’s athletic travel office while studying management. After graduating with a bachelor’s, I was an operations assistant for a finance company, then left for a better opportunity as a law office assistant. Did that the lastthree years. This Tahoe job, it’s the first time I’m blending logistics and sports since college. I’ve missed it.”
“So you were following your dad’s path into management.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes “You remember.”
“Hello?”
She laughed, a quick spark in her eyes.
“This gig is right up your alley then,” I said.
Her mouth curved, faint but proud. “Finally landed the job that fits. Took me long enough.”
The food came, hot and perfectly plated, steam curling into the air. The second the server walked away, I realized I wasn’t hungry. I sipped my wine instead, elbows braced on the table, watching Mel as she moved her fork around the plate with absent-minded precision. If eating were a competition, she’d lose hands down.
“Ever done competitive sports?” I asked.
She pressed her lips together in thought. “No, but I tried. All through grade school and high school—basketball, soccer, volleyball…even horseback riding and tennis. But I never got the pro mindset you did.”
I shook my head. “It happened without much thought. I tried a bunch of sports, and hockey clicked.”
“Instinct.”
“Yeah.” I grinned.
We sat in the hush of the emptied restaurant.
“You’re not hungry,” I said.
“Guess adrenaline and exhaustion cancel each other out.”
“Let’s call it.”
I signaled for the check and asked the server to box up the food. Mel stood slowly, her hand brushing over her hip in an unknowingly sexy sweep. I followed her out, takeout in hand, into the cool night air.
At the car, I slid the containers into the backseat and closed the door. She leaned against it, eyes locked on mine.
And that was all it took. I stepped in and cupped her jaw with one hand, thumb brushing along the edge of her cheekbone. Her breath caught, barely, but I felt it. Then I kissed her.
This time I fumbled, hoping I’d get it right.
My other hand found her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t an inch of air between us. Her hands clutched my shirt, fingertips curling into the fabric, either to keep her balance or because she didn’t want me to stop. Either way, I didn’t either.
Deepening the kiss, I tilted her back against the car door. Her mouth opened under mine, soft and searching, the kind of response that kicked heat low in my gut. I was drowning in the faint citrus of her lip balm and in the exhaustion still clinging to both of us.
It was hard to ease back. I wanted to keep kissing her. Her breath ghosted over my lips, and her eyes remained closed, lips parted in an invitation.
I dragged in a breath. “Damn, Mel.”
That got her to flutter her eyes open, slightly dazed. “You really need to stop doing that,” she whispered.
My thumb grazed her jaw one more time. “Not happening.”
She swallowed, and for a second, neither of us moved. Then she nodded and slipped into the passenger seat.
