She was so quick to recognize his eyes on her in the studio, he rarely got more than a couple of seconds to observe her in her natural habitat. Even now, alone in the hall, her shoulders were tense, but at least her lips weren’t pulled tight or forced into a placating smile. It was disorienting to see her like this. Dressed in business suits with her hair always glossy. Not that the look didn’t suit her, she was gorgeous.
But this Jenna wasn’t his.
Jenna’s head lifted as she strode closer. When she processed the figure standing at the end of the hall, she stopped dead in her tracks. Country’s insides seemed to flip positions as her lips parted and her pupils widened.
“What are you doing?” she clutched her purse against her midsection, and Country’s eyes swept over her now that she was drenched in amber light from the dining room. He could just make out the smattering of freckles on her nose. Her grey pants were cinched perfectly at her waist, making her appear curvy even though he knew by personal experience she wasn’t. Jenna was all athlete.
“Waiting for you.” Country worked to shove everything back in the emotional suitcase that had been unzipped and dumped on the floor since seeing her again. Jenna clamped her mouth closed and straightened like she was having her height measured at the doctor’s office.
Even in her four-inch heels, she barely came up to his bicep. It was unrealistic that she’d ever played hockey and unbelievable that she’d actually been good. The idea of her suiting up and getting crushed against the boards made his stomach turn, but he’d seen her in action. The heat she’d thrown a few minutes ago at the table wasn’t even a dash of what she could dish on or off the ice. Jenna was a Bulldog masquerading as a Pomsky in that soft tan sweater with her pink lips and loose, blonde waves.
Jenna stalked forward and stopped in front of him. “I’m not sure why.” She looked up with those flashing emerald eyes behind her midnight black mascara, and Country’s breath caught.
Why had he stopped here? He’d told himself it was because he needed to apologize since he’d ruffled her feathers in front of her boss, but now that she was standing in front of him, his gut screamed it was more than that.
He missed her. He hated that he missed her because she’d made his life a living hell. Even now, after years apart, that old ache stirred like a toddler disturbed from a nap. This time, he couldn’t imagine walking away having only talked about what constituted a good hockey broadcast and dick pics. “I wasn’t going to tell your co-workers that we knew each other.”
Jenna’s face was stoic. “I couldn’t pretend we had no connection after that display.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into it.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow in challenge. “No?”
He had meant it. He’d known exactly what she’d expected him to say and had purposefully said the opposite. It used to be his favourite game with her, and had the power to make her play.
Jenna glanced down, and her brow furrowed. “Were you . . . flossing?”
Country held up the flosser still in his hands. “It’s a good habit.”
Her frown deepened. “It’s unnecessary. We haven’t even gotten our drinks yet.”
He worked to keep a grin off his face as he shoved the flosser in his pocket, and her face scrunched in disgust. Game number two. “You haven’t gotten your drink yet, and there aren’t rules about when one can or can not floss.”
“There is such a thing as flossing too much. It irritates your gums.” Jenna’s purse slipped as she tilted her chin back up to look at him.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “Country, just because you haven’t read the data?—”
He laughed out loud. “Are you pretending you’ve read studies on flossing right now?”
“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. All I’m saying is flossing before a meal seems more like a compulsion than?—”
“Maybe you’re jealous of my periodontal health.” He flashed a toothy smile then dropped it and straightened when the server from earlier stormed up next to them.
Jenna smiled. “Sorry. We’ll be quieter.” She waved her off then turned back to Country with an accusatory look. “This is ridiculous. You—” She stopped and forced a breath, dropping her purse shield completely. “I don’t normally act this way at work, Gentry. You’re . . . agitating.”
He grinned. “Or maybe nobody at work challenges you.” Jenna’s eyes flared, and for a moment, he wondered if she was going to light into him again. His pulse jumped with anticipation.
Instead, she pursed her lips. “What you said at the table, that’s what you believe? That the Elite League isn’t story-worthy?”
“I don’t want to drag the Snowballs into some media frenzy when we’re in the middle of our season. I agreed to do Saturday, but I’m not interested in making this a side gig.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “You assume the story would be all about you?”
He kept his grin from slipping. “Why wouldn’t it be?” When she shot him a look, he breathed a laugh. “I’m kidding. I’m not as pompous as I used to be.”
“I doubt that,” she muttered.
