JJ smirks. “Probably not, but we’ll let him come anyway.”
The three of them disappear, and I’m still smiling after them when a hand lands on my arm and squeezes.
The familiar fruity perfume registers before I even turn around. Wincing, I give myself a little pep talk. I gotta play nice, even though I want to tell the woman to get her hand off me.
“Erica,” I say, turning and giving the team photographer an easy smile.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” she says in a flirty tone.
Erica is a very pretty woman. Blond hair, blue eyes, a strong jaw, a button nose, and killer curves. She’s photographed on the sidelines as often as she does the photographing. Women are being drafted to the NHL finally, yet the league’s commentators are still misogynistic fools who love to talk about how she will make a great wife for one of theplayers or staff one day rather than about the incredible shots she takes or the awards she’s won.
She’s never paid the commentators any mind, and I’ve never seen her look at any of the players unless it’s from behind the camera.
But me? She’s made it obvious several times that she’d love to share more than just a drink.
I haven’t gone there. I try really hard not to mix business with pleasure. Nothing has ever mattered more to me than my job. The Bolts are my family, so a few hours of pleasure have never been worth the risk of awkwardness at work.
She’s got a good head on her shoulders, though, and she is excellent at her job, so her advances haven’t been overt or out of line. She’s got a great sense of humor too, so I have spent a few nights in her company in a hotel bar while traveling. But I’ve always turned down her offer for more.
“Can’t miss a Langfield party.”
She grins, her glossy pink lips shiny in the stadium lights. “Ain’t that the truth. And this one is spectacular. I wish I’d brought my camera, because seriously, this is a winter wonderland.” She scans our surroundings, wearing a look of appreciation.
“I’m sure you’ll get some good ones either way. I’ve seen what you can do with your phone’s camera alone,” I say honestly.
She steps closer, her cheeks going pink. “Thanks, Cam. I appreciate that. Want to walk with me while I snap a few pictures? Maybe take a ride on the Ferris wheel?” She splays a hand on my chest and peers up at me through dark lashes.
I’m racking my brain for a gentle way to turn her down when a cool hand lands on my neck and I’m tugged backward.
“Hey, baby,” a sexy, raspy voice says. “Sorry I’m late.”
Chest tightening, I whip around and clutch Savannah’s hand to my chest. “Baby?” I whisper, taking her in.
She breaks into a smile so bright it rivals the stadium lights overhead. “Aren’t you going to give your girlfriend a kiss hello? I missed you.”
Fuck. Girlfriend? My heart somersaults at the word. Never have I wanted a woman to wear that title more than her. And sure, maybeshe’s only tossing it around because she’s jealous, but I like it. Possessive Savannah is hot as fuck.
I may be an asshole, but I plan to take full advantage of this opportunity. I’ll show her exactly how I feel about this surprise while making sure Erica knows where my interests lie.
Cuffing her neck, I press my fingers into her pulse point and revel in the way it thrums wildly as I lean close and brush my lips against hers. “Missed you too, baby girl,” I murmur. Then I take the kiss deeper. I go all in. Tongue and teeth and so much need that it takes effort not to grind up against her.
Savannah whimpers into my mouth, just as desperate for me, and clings to me, fingers clutching my sweater.
With a low groan, I pull back. If we keep this up, I actually will take this too far. “Thought you had plans with the girls.” Unable to resist, I press one last kiss to her mouth.
She licks her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling. For a second she just stares at me, a dreamy look in her eye. But she quickly shakes her head a little and blinks three times in rapid succession. “Uh, yeah. Apparently the plan was to come here.”
She shrugs like that was a surprise to her, but the little glint in her eye gives me the feeling that isn’t the complete truth. My girl wanted to surprise me. The question is why?
Did she want to test me? Did I pass?
I glance at Erica, who is standing awkwardly a foot away. Shit. Forgot about her. I wrap an arm around Savannah and tuck her into my side. Then I make introductions. “Savannah, this is Erica, the team’s photographer. Erica, this is my girlfriend, Savannah.” At the word girlfriend, I give the woman under my arm a secret little smirk.
She peers back at me, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.
Yeah, she was testing me. She probably didn’t think a world existed in which I would be okay with her being this possessive. Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me when it comes to showing her just how invested I am. And, more importantly, that not only is she mine, but that I’m so very okay with being hers.
TWENTY-TWO
