Page 15 of Icebound Hearts

Then again, I’m probably not one to talk. Between keeping up with a professional hockey career and raising a kid on my own, I’m not exactly the lightest, most happy-go-lucky guy in the world either.

We all order food and drinks, and I get some onion rings for Jake since they’re his favorite. Everyone is in a great mood, and although I’m not drinking because I’ll have to drive Jake home in a bit, when I glance around the table and see that most of the glasses are close to empty, I stand up and announce, “Next round is on me!”

That elicits a few cheers from my teammates, and I make my way through the growing crowd in The Hideout as I head up to the bar.

I’m resting my elbows on the old wooden bar, waiting for the bartender to finish the batch of drinks he’s making, when something brushes against my arm. I turn to see a woman standing right beside me, and when she notices me looking at her, she flushes.

Her long, dark auburn hair is pulled into a stylish ponytail, and her acrylic nails are painted a deep blue color. She doesn’t have the usual look of a puck bunny, but the interest that flares in her eyes lets me know immediately that she recognizes who I am.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, resting her hand on my arm. “I didn’t mean to bump into you. It’s my first time here, and I had no idea this place got so crowded.”

“Yeah. It can get pretty busy on game days.”

I give her a polite nod, taking a subtle step to my left to put a bit more distance between us. Unfortunately, someone on the woman’s other side elbows up to the bar at the exact same moment, giving her the perfect excuse to move even closer to me.

“I’m Scarlett,” she says, tilting her head to the side a little and gazing up at me through her lashes. “And you’re Sawyer Townsend, right?” She laughs, pressing a hand to her cheek. “Oh god, it’s so embarrassing that I know that. I’m not a stalker or anything, I swear. I’m just a big Aces fan, and I really love the way you play.”

“Thanks.” I nod again, glancing around for the bartender. It’s not that I’m unaware that she’s hitting on me, and it’s not that she’s unattractive. If I were Maxim—or Noah, before he met Margo and lost interest in every other woman on the planet—I’d probably be flirting right back.

But I’m just… not interested. I’m not interested in dating or hooking up at all, really, and certainly not with some woman I just met at a bar while my son eats onion rings in the corner.

I turn my body more fully toward the bar, but Scarlett doesn’t seem to pick up on the hint. She moves in even closer to me, resting her arm on the bar in a way that shows off her ample cleavage.

“You know, I’ve never really believed in fate,” she tells me, leaning closer to speak into my ear. “But I almost didn’t even come out this evening, and if I didn’t, I never would’ve met you. So it seems to me that?—”

“Hey, babe.”

Another feminine voice—one I recognize—speaks from nearby, and a second later, Violet steps up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist familiarly.

“Uh…” I blink down at her, startled into silence.

“I thought I’d come up and see if you need help carrying the drinks back to the table.” She grins at me, then rests her free hand lightly on my stomach as she tilts her face up, an unmistakably flirtatious look on her face. “Well, that and I just missed you.”

“You… uh…”

Jesus, Townsend. Say something intelligible.

Violet doesn’t wait for me to catch up. She just turns to look at Scarlett, and although the bright smile on her face doesn’t waver, there’s a tiny edge to her next words—a bite of possessiveness, the way she might have if she were defending her territory.

“Who’s your friend?” she asks.

“Oh, this is…” I have to swallow before I can continue, but it doesn’t quite clear the rasp in my throat. Violet’s entire body is pressed nearly flush against mine, and it’s making my brain short-circuit. “Uh, this is Scarlett.”

“Hi.” Scarlett’s seductive expression has faded away, and she gives Violet a weak smile as she leans back a little, clearly having gotten the unspoken hint. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just about to grab a drink before my friends meet me here—oh, actually, there they are.”

She waves to a group across the bar, and I have to press my lips together to keep from grinning. I’m honestly not sure if she knows them or not, but she’s clearly looking for a graceful escape from this situation.

“It was nice to meet you,” she tells me lamely before slipping away through the crowd.

Violet and I watch her go, and unconsciously, my own arm wraps around Violet, holding her against my body for a second. Then I realize what I’m doing and quickly let go. She does the same, stepping back from me, although I swear I can still feel the warmth of her palm where it pressed against my stomach through my shirt.

“I hope that was okay,” she says, laughing softly. “I actuallywascoming over to help you carry drinks back, but then I saw the absolutely miserable look on your face and figured you could use a rescue. I didn’t get in the way of your game or anything, did I?”

A laugh bursts out of me, and I shake my head. “No. I have no game. You can ask any of my teammates. And that was…”

Fuck, whatwasit? And why did I like the feel of her body molded to mine so much?

“It was appreciated,” I finish gruffly, glancing away as if I’m worried she’ll be able to read my thoughts through my expression.

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