He grinned, showing off a missing front tooth, right in between a great set of pearly white teeth.
“Um,” I said. “You’re missing a tooth.”
He chuckled. “Hockey players tend to have those go missing. I’ll have a new one put in soon.”
I shook my head. “It’s normal to be missing teeth?”
“In hockey, yes,” he confirmed, still holding on lightly to my waist. “What’s your plan for when I let you go?”
“Hope I don’t fall,” I admitted.
He let me go, and I would never admit it, but I hated every second of him doing it.
Geez, was the man gorgeous.
As in, drop dead, I could see this man causing thousands of women to drop at his feet if he only asked, gorgeous.
I luckily stayed on my feet and offered him a huge smile. “Thanks for the lift.”
He winked. “Anytime, darlin’.”
He said it in such a charming, Oklahoma accent, that it made my heart squeeze.
“Later, gator.”
Gisela caught my hand and tugged me gently, but firmly away.
“After a while, crocodile!” he called out.
I looked at him over my shoulder and promptly tripped.
Luckily, my best friend was made of stouter stuff.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” she gasped.
“What?” I asked.
“Do you have any idea who that was?” she breathed, looking over her shoulder with me.
I waved, then we disappeared down a hall and into a arena with a wood roller rink floor in it.
There were also some very intimidating, mean-looking women dressed in mini-skirts, crop tops, and skates.
They looked like they ate people like me for dinner.
“Are you sure about this?” I muttered.
She ignored me and said, “That was Jeremiah Jones Dixon.”
I blinked at her. “Should I know who that is?”
She shook her head at me. “Only the most eligible bachelor in the lower 48. A millionaire. Oh, and the hottest hockey player in the world.”
Well, there was one thing I could agree with.
The hottest hockey player in the world definitely fit him.
“All right, ladies,” a woman wearing a pink mini-skirt, black crop top, carrying around a bat, called out. “Are y’all ready?”