Page 51 of A Whole New Trick

I take Morgan’s hand and begin weaving through the crowd, heading to the stairs leading to the balcony overlooking the glittering ballroom. With dinner approaching, I’m trusting there won’t be many guests wandering the area above.

Morgan laughs, picking up her gown to avoid tripping as she keeps up with my pace. I look down and bite my knuckles when I see her crimson heels, imagining her wearing nothing but those sexy shoes when I have my way with her.

But that particular fantasy will have to wait until we’re back at my place. Or hers. I’m not picky.

It hits me that I’ve never been to Morgan’s place. I plan to change that as soon as possible.

We near the bottom of the stairs. I scan the space above for where I can take Morgan to finally release at least a little of this pent-up desire that’s been burning me up since New Mexico.

“Oh, my stars. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that little Morgan Caldwell?”

I turn at the sound of my date’s name.

An older man and woman I don’t know walk toward us. Their attention is focused on the beauty on my arm.

“Mr. and Mrs. McQueen,” Morgan stutters. She releases my hand like she’s been caught by her grandparents sneaking out of the house with her boyfriend. “What are you two doing here?”

“You know we’re loyal Glacier Kings fans,” the woman returns. She doesn’t stop her approach until she has her lace-covered arms wrapped around my date.

“But don’t tell your dad that,” the man, Mr. McQueen, adds with a chuckle. “He’d accuse me of being disloyal to Toronto.”

“You married into Minnesota,” his wife replies. “The Slapstick Kid will have to understand.”

I’m wondering how I can politely excuse us so I can continue my plan to be alone with my date when the unique nickname registers.

My body goes rigid.

“Wait.” My head whips to Morgan. “Is your dad Warren Caldwell?”

Morgan’s shoulders hunch ever so slightly. “Um… yeah. He is.”

How in the world did I not know that?

Warren Caldwell is a legendary hockey player. My university coaches showed tapes of his offensive play when I was in school, more than twenty years after he stopped playing due to a shitty injury that happened in his first year as a pro.

I never considered Morgan could be related to the star player. He’s Canadian. As far as I know, he still lives there. Though, it’s not like I look into what the legend was doing with his life.

I guess he moved to Texas. And is now the father to the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.

“And you’re Dane Larson,” Mr. McQueen says with a hint of admiration. “You’re having one hell of a season.”

“Thank you.” Though every part of me wants to be rude and pull Morgan away, I can’t afford to insult someone she knows—or, rather, who her parents know.

WarrenfreakingCaldwell.

What are the odds?

“I didn’t believe it when I heard you two were dating.” Mrs. McQueen looks between Morgan and me and then speaks directly to my date, “I distinctly remember you swearing you’d never date a hockey player when you were a teenager.”

“Is that so?”

Morgan rolls her eyes when she sees my smirk. “Yes, but to be fair, any hockey player I knew growing up knew who my dad was. I had no idea if they were more interested in me or my dad.”

“Their loss.” And my victory.

“Well said.” Mrs. McQueen beams at me approvingly.

“Have you two chosen your tables for the evening?” Mr. McQueen asks.

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