“And three assists,” he protests. “That is definitely lunch-worthy.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He leans a little closer. “I bet I can convince you.”
Another shrug. “Maybe I want to be convinced.”
Hot brown eyes are the last thing I see before he’s kissing me. Firm lips, a sleek tongue darting into my mouth, a warm hand on my back, drawing me flush against him.
And no fear.
No past.
Just Colt and me and?—
A wolf-whistle pierces the air.
—the entire training and support staff and roster of the Sierra roaming the arena’s hallways.
Two of whom are grinning at me and Colt when I look up, breaths coming in rapid succession, legs like jelly, lips desperate for more.
“Not a word,” Colt growls at Lake and Knox.
“You know that has absolutely no chance of working.”
He scowls down at me.
Then shrugs and shakes his head, a begrudging smile on his gorgeous face.
“I know.” A wink.
“The more important question is…did I convince you yet?”
Twenty
Colt
Finishing my conversation with the donor, I shake his hand then slip away into the crowd.
Usually, the fundraising events take place at home.
But this one supports the hospital where Blake has spent so much of his time.
When they asked me to help get the new children’s wing funded, I jumped at the chance to give back.
Luckily, some of the guys were happy to help too.
Tonight, Lake, Riggs, Knox, Bear, Leo, and Storm are here, along with Damon and Joey, all hobnobbing with donors, signing jerseys and posters (and in Lake’s case, bottles of vodka as well). They’ve all also offered up items for the silent auction.
Good guys.
The best.
It might take another couple of events, but we’re getting close to the Blake Madden Children’s wing.
Something I wanted to show my brother tonight.
But he isn’t here yet, and the fundraiser is well underway.
