Page 26 of Foster

She smiles genially at us, but we definitely look strange among the faded jeans, leather jackets and biker boots. Since we all came straight from the arena where we’re required to wear suits to and from, we’re dressed up, although we ditched our coats and ties before coming inside.

“What will you boys be having?” she asks and then jerks her head toward the bar. “Big Earl said this round is on him to celebrate the end of the preseason.”

We all order beers and when she walks away, Rafferty whistles low as he stares shamelessly at her ass. “What do you think the chances are I’ll score with her tonight?”

“No clue,” I reply as I glance once more at her retreating form and then turn back to him with a sly grin. “But the more beer you drink, I’m betting you think your chances will increase.”

The other guys guffaw. Rafferty smirks and shakes his head. “Actually, I’m thinking my chances are low. She was making moon eyes at pretty boy here.”

Rafferty points at King, whose eyes flare wide. “Me? Pretty boy? What the fuck?”

I snort because I know exactly what Rafferty means. Jack Kingston—King to all his friends, family and teammates—could have a stellar career as a male model if the hockey gig didn’t work out. I’m by no means an expert on what modeling agencies look for but I’ve seen enough women in the last few weeks with their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. He’s got dark hair he wears fairly short and the lightest brown-gold eyes I’ve ever seen, framed by lashes so thick, it’s almost as if he’s wearing makeup. Not to wax poetic, but the dude has got the most perfectly symmetrical face with not a single plane out of line. His teeth are white and straight and clearly he’s never taken a puck or hard elbow there.

What’s most adorable about this young guy is that he’s not really aware of it. When he looks at Rafferty in shock, it’s genuine. I can’t figure out if he’s dense or naive, but I imagine if he paid attention to the women around him, he’d be getting laid… a lot.

Rafferty’s head swings my way and he changes the subject. “What’s the deal with your new nanny?”

My hackles rise slightly as I don’t like the intimation in his voice. It’s not one of friendly conversation but rather of romantic interest.

“What do you mean, what’s the deal? She watches my kid. She’s good at what she does. End of story.”

North nudges me with an elbow. “Come on, dude… she’s hot as fuck. Surely, you’ve noticed. I mean hell, we all thought you hired her because she’s hot as fuck. If you’re not tapping that there is something seriously wrong with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I say with a forced laugh. “I’m a professional. Of course I’m not tapping that and there’s no way I’d let any of you near her either.”

“Why not?” King asks. “We’re all good dudes.”

“Maybe so, but all I need is for one of you guys to break her heart and she quits and then I’m screwed.”

The guys laugh and Rafferty shakes his head. “We’re just fucking with you. But she’s smokin’… you know that, right?”

“Not going to argue with you there,” I mutter. “She’s incredible with Bowie Jane and that’s all that matters to me. Now let’s talk about something more important… like how fucking awesome this team is going to be this year.”

North drums his fingertips on the table. “Beyond awesome but the pressure to live up to expectations will be huge on everyone.”

“Penn’s got the biggest load on his shoulders,” I muse thoughtfully. “Yeah, we’re all good in our own right but that guy is a phenom. One of those players who comes along about every twenty years.”

“The real test will be when we start regular practice next week,” Rafferty says, “and how soon will Penn start clicking with his linemates.”

“Hard to tell since he didn’t play any of the games and drills were done on a rotating basis, so you never played with the same guys more than a few times.”

The waitress returns with our beers and as she sets them before us, her eyes keep drifting over to King, oblivious as he scrolls on his phone. I reach into my wallet and put a twenty on her tray. “Here’s a tip.”

She blinks in surprise before smiling. “Thanks.”

When she leaves, Rafferty mutters. “Yeah… no chance with her but King will get lucky tonight.”

“Get lucky with who?” King asks as he looks up.

“The waitress, man.” Rafferty throws his thumb over his shoulder in the direction she just walked. “Go get her number.”

King shakes his head. “Nah. Not my style.”

“It’s not your style to pick up or take out or hook up with a beautiful woman who’s clearly willing?” North asks with a laugh.

A sly grin forms on King’s face. “Now, that’s just too easy.” His eyes cut to mine, twinkling with mischief. “Your nanny though. What’s her name?”

“Mazzy,” I reply, my throat weirdly dry that attention has turned back to her. I most definitely didn’t want to share her name, but there’s no reason not to.

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