“Maybe you should be.” She narrows her eyes then sighs. “Fine. We can have dinner. Just for tonight.”
Grinning, I push the food menu across the table to her. “That’s my good girl.”
The words slip out, a playful jab borrowing her father’s phrase when she agreed to this marriage, but the second they’re outthere, they hang in the air feeling way too suggestive for the occasion.
Her eyes widen, her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, and her gaze drops to the table.
She looks… flustered. Completely caught off guard and a bit uncomfortable. I feel bad that I made her feel like that but at the same time, this is who I am. I’m a friendly guy who may come across a bit flirty and goofy.
Maybe she’s just skittish when it comes to sexual innuendos, or maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe… shelikedthe way it sounded for me to call her agood girl.
The moment is saved by the arrival of our server, who smiles politely as she pulls out her notepad.
“What can I get you two to eat tonight?”
“I’ll take an ice water and the seafood pasta with a side of greens,” I say, handing over my menu.
Rosie glances up. “Just the Caesar salad for me. And a glass of Merlot, please.”
The server nods and steps away, leaving us in the comfortable hum of the restaurant.
“So,” she says after a moment, looking at me with mild curiosity, “you don’t drink after games?”
“I stopped drinking entirely a few months ago.” I lean back in my chair. “Alcohol dehydrates me too much, and I like to stay at the top of my career. But it was mostly because I was trying to work on my reputation.”
She nods. “I see.” But she doesn’t press, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along the tablecloth like she’s unsure where to put them. It hits me then that small talk isn’t her comfort zone,which means I’m going to have to steer this conversation if we want the night to flow.
Lucky for her, I was raised by a man who could talk to anyone about anything. And after my dad passed, Levi and I became the ones who carried the noise in our house, filling the silence with our usual witty banter and playful ribbing so that it never felt too heavy. Especially since our younger brother Seth and our mom are, without question, the biggest introverts I know.
I lean forward in my chair. “Alright. Let’s try this one more time. What did you think of your first NHL game?”
Chapter 11: Boone
Her lips curve up at the corners slightly. “It was… a lot of fun.”
I rest back in my seat. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“I have to admit, I watched a few of your games online over the past three days to prepare myself for tonight.”
“And?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“You’re an incredible athlete,” she says simply, her eyes meeting mine. “I can see why you’ve been named top forward center for the last five years in a row and why you’re the highest scorer on your team. When you’re on the ice, it’s fluid. Like you’re breathing.”
I sit back, a satisfied smile on my face. She’s done her homework, even if it’s just to feel prepared when she talks to the other WAGs about my career and the game.
I’m impressed though I shouldn’t be surprised. Rosie doesn’t seem like she would ever do anything half-way.
I also like knowing that she was up watching videos of me at night.
“Did Cassie and Jill give you any grief?”
“No, they were surprisingly accepting.”
That doesn’t shock me in the least. Ty and Lochlan are some of the best guys on the team, and their wives, Cassie and Jill, are equally solid. They’ve created a culture where kindness and loyalty come first, unlike the puck bunnies, who are a whole different story.
But something in Rosie’s reaction and response tells me she wasn’t expecting that level of warmth from them.
“Good,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “They’re good people.”
