But there’s no flicker of recognition in her eyes.
And suddenly, I’m nervous.
I’m so used to puck bunnies pawing at me after games that I’ve forgotten how to act around a woman who wants to know me as a man and not a hockey player.
“I’m a professional athlete.”
I wait for the squealing.
It never comes.
She stares at me. “Are you serious?”
“Yep.”
“You play a sport for a living?”
I nod.
“Rodeo?”
I chuckle. “Definitely not.”
She smiles. “You don’t seem like a rodeo guy. That’s the only kind of professional sport I have any clue about. I work with ranchers and cowboys.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She nods. “Our company specializes in helping ranchers who want to hold onto their land. We provide different ways for them to bring in money to ease their financial stress.”
“That’s cool. What kinds of ways?”
“You name it, we’ve probably tried it. Dude ranches, corporate retreats, parties, and events…I’m in charge of outreach and marketing. I lead presentations to sign new accounts.”
“You must be good at what you do.” This woman has no issue taking charge—and for once, that gets me even more stirred up.
“It comes naturally to me, I guess. Maybe because I grew up on a ranch, so I get the cowboy mentality.” She sucks in a breath as her sky-blue eyes find mine. “I’ve never dated an athlete, though. Or a cowboy. I’ve only ever dated corporate guys before. Which is funny because my uncle is a sports agent. But I tend to tune out whenever he talks about his work.” She throws her head back again and laughs.
And I want her badly.
“So if you only date corporate types,” I say slowly, “that means you normally date people like yourself?”
“Yes. Precisely.”
I reach out my hand. “I guess we’re opposites then.”
As my hand covers hers, the current I felt between us when we touched at the bar is about a thousand times stronger. She feels it, too. I can tell because she noticeably shivers. Her eyes darken, and she flips her hand palm up so we can link our fingers together.
“Opposites, huh?” She swallows noticeably. “That could be interesting.”
My dick hardens inside my jeans, and I shift in my chair. “You’re beautiful,” I say to her, surprised at the stark honesty in my voice.
“Thank you.”
“What’s your name?” I ask her suddenly, unable to stop myself from wanting to learn more about her.
“Mia.”
“I’m Declan.”
