He liked his women with long hair he could run his fingers through. Jenna had short, spiky black hair that had weird purple tips at the end, which was kind of wild and funky.
Jenna had multiple piercings in her left ear and that tiny little diamond on her nose. It always made him wonder what other parts of her body were pierced. And those tattoos he’d only gotten glimpses of intrigued him. He wanted time to explore them, to study them, to strip her down and see where else she was tattooed.
But her eyes were what really drew him to her. They were an amazing sapphire blue that were so expressive and so vulnerable, even though she liked to play the tough chick.
Okay, so maybe she was a little different. And maybe he was drawn to how utterly different she was.
So he played with her, irritated her, and baited her because he knew he could get a rise out of her.
Not interested? Bullshit. That kiss had told him just how interested she really was. He’d bet if he’d gotten his hands into her panties she’d have been wet.
Just the thought of getting into her panties made his c**k throb. He could still taste her on his lips—peppermint and some kind of cherry-flavored lip gloss. He licked his lips, wanted more.
Yeah, he wanted a lot more of Jenna.
And just like in hockey, when the goal was in sight, he never gave up.
TWO
TY FLEW DOWN THE ICE, SKATING PAST THE DEFENDER. Victor Putinov slid the puck across to him and he took a shot.
Missed. He skirted around the net and fought the defender for the puck, slamming up against the boards, their sticks in combat for the prize. The shouts from the home crowd were deafening, spurring him on to scramble.
He lost the fight and skated his ass off after that black disc. When he was on the ice it was the only thing that mattered to him.
Eddie Wolkowski went after it, skidding to a halt against the center for Toronto. Ty wanted to beat these guys badly. He liked all the guys on his former team, but hey, business was business and it was time to get down to it.
Parker took a shot against Roger “Ice-man” Rantzen, the Ice’s goalie. Roger blocked it and Wolkowski took it and sent it shooting toward the center. The left wing picked it up and Ty took the charge across the line, skating in tandem with Toronto’s center. It was a race to see who could get there faster.
Ty was a damn good skater and had the stamina to beat his opponent. When the left wing passed the puck to Ty, he took it and passed it to Victor, who fought off the Toronto defenseman, giving Ty time to get into position.
Victor slanted the puck back to Ty. He saw the opening and took a hard shot.
Ty loved when the lamp lit up. The crowd was on its feet and the roar inside the arena never failed to give him chills. He lifted his stick in the air and pumped it up high, then went over to his teammates to celebrate.
They won the game three to one. It had been close. Toronto was a tough opponent.
After the game, he showered and dressed.
“How about a steak at Riley’s to celebrate?” Eddie asked.
Ty knew that Eddie had a major crush on Renee, one of the waitresses at Riley’s, and that’s why he kept suggesting they hit the bar.
And since he liked to irritate the hell out of Jenna, he was up for it. “Sure.”
Eddie grinned. At twenty-eight, Eddie was the Ice’s golden boy, with his dark blond hair and Nordic features. He was huge at six-five, nearly imposing, but had the freckled face and wide grin of a teenager. He was as good-natured as anyone Ty had ever known. A fierce killer on the ice, Eddie was as gentle as a kitten off it. He was a mix of contradictions, which made it hard for him to get women.
Except for Renee. She’d taken to Eddie right away, and Ty had the feeling Eddie’s crush was reciprocated—big time.
They went to the bar with a few of the other guys who said they wanted to unwind with some pool.
As soon as he walked in the door he caught Jenna’s eye. She frowned. He grinned.
Game time. Only this was a different kind of game than the one he’d played earlier on the ice.
SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST. EVERY NIGHT RAN together until Jenna didn’t know what day it was. With hockey season going on and so many rabid fans in attendance at the bar, Jenna ran her legs off serving drinks, and her waitresses were just as busy filling orders.
The logical part of her knew business was good, and in this economy that was an awesome thing. The bar was packed, her customers were happy, and Riley’s was making money. She had no business being dissatisfied with her life. If this wasn’t what she wanted to do, too bad. She was helping out the family, they had a successful business, and it kept stress off her father, who had suffered a heart attack and subsequent surgery last year. On those rare occasions when he came to the bar he was happy and smiling, and all he had to do was enjoy his friends. She was relieved he was still around after last year’s scare.
No complaints, right? Even if Riley’s was still primarily her responsibility and the family counted on her to keep it running. It could be a whole lot worse.
“If the Ice keep winning, I’m going to lose ten pounds,” one of the witnesses said. “They keep packing in here. And it gets even more crowded when they show up after the home games.”
Sure enough, they were here again. More important, Ty was with them.
There were loads of bars near the arena, many that catered to hockey fans. Why did he have to choose hers?
Renee, one of her top waitresses, leaned against the bar and gave her a drink order.
Jenna would be lost without her. Renee was bubbly and pretty in that Barbie doll kind of way—curvy and blonde and petite and all the guys loved her. She had infectious laughter, but she never encouraged any of them, though Jenna was certain Renee had a thing for one of the Ice players. She hadn’t acted on it, but there was something about the looks she and Wolkowski exchanged.
It was cute. She’d have to find out what was going on with the two of them.
Jenna grabbed the list and started making drinks. “Your boyfriend is here.”
Renee did a quick glance. “I know. I took their drink order. And Eddie’s not my boyfriend.”
But Renee’s cheeks were pink. And she couldn’t hide her smile.
“Seeing him?”
She shook her head, her curls bouncing. “He hasn’t asked me.”
“Men are stupid. He’s staring at you.”
Renee lifted her head to meet Jenna’s gaze. “He is?”
“Yeah.” She loaded up the drinks on Renee’s tray. “So ask him out.”
“Nope. If he wants me, he can do the asking.”
“You’re such a traditional girl.”
“Aren’t I?” Renee winked and sauntered off.
After Renee left, Jenna had a few moments to breathe. She just couldn’t get a freakin’ break. Ty’s gaze met hers as he pulled off his jacket and headed to a pool table. Every ounce of estrogen in her body surged with joy as his lean, muscled frame settled over one of the tables, pool cue in hand.
Her damn estrogen could just calm the hell down. He might have kissed her, and she might have tingled for hours over it, but that was as far as it was ever going to go. He was sports and that meant no.
He leaned a hip against the pool table and accepted the beer Renee gave him, his body ripped and hard all over as he relaxed and laughed with his friends.
Just the sound of his voice made her ni**les harden.
Did you hear that, body? No. No, no, no.
Deciding to ignore him, she went into the kitchen and told Malcolm to start the steak orders, then busied herself with her customers. She would not be interested in Tyler, even if her libido was.
But watching him play pool was more than she could take. She wasn’t nearly busy enough. It was late, the crowds had thinned, and it was mostly him and his player buddies, and if she had to wipe down another glass until it sparkled to avoid looking at his ass she was going to hurl said glass against the nearest wall.
Escape wasn’t an option since she was still in charge of the bar, and the pool table was off to the left—in her line of sight whenever she had to grab a beer.
She tried not to ogle, but Ty had a great butt. He was good at pool, too. Of course. Jocks were good at everything, which was why their egos often went unchecked, something she found utterly intolerable about sports figures.
Which was why she never intended to date, have sex with, or otherwise get involved with one. She made a concerted effort not to watch him, instead glancing at the clock and the minutes ticking down to closing time. She decided to do hard liquor inventory to keep her mind engaged on something other than Ty.
“Can I get a beer, Jenna?”
She hadn’t realized time had passed until Ty pulled up a stool at the bar. She glanced over at the pool table. His friends were nowhere to be found. In fact, the bar was nearly deserted and it was closing time.
Renee waved to her on her way out the door with Malcolm right on her heels.
She was alone in the bar again. With Ty. How had she let that happen?
“Bar’s closed.”
He skirted around the bar and helped himself. She crossed her arms and glared at him.
“You don’t own this place, you know.”
He popped off the top and took a long swallow, then let out a grateful sigh. “Pool makes me thirsty, thanks. And no, I don’t own this place, but your parents do and they like me.”
“Finish your beer so I can get out of here.”
He went around and took his seat on the stool again. “What is it about me that you don’t like?”
She wiped down the top of the bar, ignoring his question.
“My looks?”
God no. He was panty-dropping good looking. Not that she would ever admit that to him.
“My personality.”
Utterly annoying. And charming.
“My manners.”
Perfect. He always held the door for women and the elderly. He was respectful, not too loud, and never drank too much. For every beer or whiskey he drank, he followed it up with a large glass of ice water. Some athletes wanted all the attention drawn on themselves. Ty liked to blend into the background, preferring to mix with her clientele, not be a showcase because he was a star on the Ice.
“So tell me, Jenna. What is it about me that bugs you?”
She tossed the rag into the bin and palmed the edge of the bar. “I don’t date sports players.”
He quirked a brow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
She held her arms out to her sides. “Look at all this, Ty. I’m surrounded by it all day, nearly every day. And then there’s Mick and Gavin and all their friends who passed through the house. I’ve had sports ad nauseum all my life.”
He tilted the bottle up to his lips and drank, then handed the empty to her. She tossed it.
“I see. You’ve had your fill of guys like me.”
“Now you’re beginning to see the light.”
“So I’m damned because of my profession. Out of the running before I’ve even had a chance.”
She nodded. “Yup. You’re wasting your time on me. Might as well go find another girl to charm.”
He came behind the bar. “What if I don’t want another girl? What if I want you?”
Uh-oh. Her body was pinging like a Geiger counter and Ty was radioactive. The closer he got, the hotter she became. She took a step back. “I don’t want you.”
He stopped, his lips curving in a knowing smile. “You keep saying that, but I don’t think I believe you.”
“Arrogant men are not appealing.”
“I’m not being arrogant. I’m just good at reading signals.”
“You are so full of shit.” She bent down, grabbed her bag, and held it in front of her like a life preserver. “What signals?”
“You’re breathing fast. Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated.”
“I’m exhausted and out of breath from running around trying to close down this place. And it’s hot in here.”
He laughed. “It’s not hot in here. And you’ve been standing still.”
He had her there. “Go away, Ty. I need to close up.” She fumbled in her bag for her keys.
“Go out with me.”
She jerked her head up. “What? No. Hell no.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad. I promise.”
“I’d rather have a root canal.”
He didn’t seem insulted. What would it take to get him angry, to hurt his feelings? To get him the hell out of this bar?
“I promise you that going out with me is way more fun than dental surgery.”
“I’m…seeing someone.”
One perfectly formed brow rose. “You’re seeing someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know him.”
“How do you know I don’t know him if you don’t tell me who he is?”
“He’s not involved in sports.”
“I know a lot of people not in sports, Jenna.”
She was digging this hole deeper and deeper. “He’s not from around here. And I have to go.”
“Got a date?”
“Yes.” She pushed on him until he finally budged and headed for the door. She punched in the code and hurried outside, tossing on her jacket to ward off the frigid temps.
Of course he just had to walk her to her car. Damn him for being a gentleman. He’d be a lot easier to not think about if he were a prick.
“A little late for a date, isn’t it?” he asked when she got to her car.
“None of your business, Ty.”
“So, it’s a booty call.”
She gasped. “It is not a booty call. It’s a date.”