Page 83 of Dancing in the Rain

“This is Joe Berenson,” Drew introduced Peyton. “We all call him Red. And this is his wife, Jessica.”

“Why do you call him Red?” she whispered to him moments later. “His hair’s not red.”

“Red Baron. Berenson.” He grinned. “Sorry. Hockey players have this weird habit of making up names for guys.”

“Yours is Selly.”

“Right.” He smiled and reached for her hand again. It was icy cold. “Come on, let’s get a drink and meet some of the others here.” Maybe a drink would help relax her.

He felt like shit. This was supposed to be a distraction from her problems, not something that made her even more tense and anxious. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that the party was on a boat. He’d got that she didn’t want to be alone in the house when she’d asked him to stay for dinner, and it had seemed like a good idea to invite her to the party.

The yacht was spacious with a big salon and beautiful bar. People were gathered there, moving around the long dining table that was covered with platters of appetizers and finger foods. Drew greeted some of the guys he knew and made introductions, then they approached the bar and got Peyton set up with a nice glass of wine and him with a beer.

“Doing okay, babe?” he murmured to her after a while.

She nodded and shot him a smile. “I’m okay. You’re right. It’s fine.”

He studied her face. “I’m an idiot. I never even thought about what happened with your parents.”

“It was a freak accident,” she said. “I know it’s very safe. I just…haven’t done it.”

“Well, now you’re back in the saddle. So to speak.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect this.”

“You’re doing fine.”

She sipped more wine.

They mingled with some of the guys he knew, and he found he was more concerned about Peyton, making sure she wasn’t nervous and that she met everyone and was included in the conversation, than he was about people feeling sorry for him. There wasn’t a lot of hockey talk, and some of the people there weren’t even hockey players; one of the guests, Jim Flannigan, was a radio broadcaster, and there were a couple of businessmen. Peyton had no trouble making small talk with people, and he realized she’d probably grown up doing that, with her well-to-do family.

When he introduced her to Dougie, he got a holy-shit look from his friend. Dougie shook hands with her. “Well, I’m very pleased to meet you,” he said to her. “Been hearing quite a bit about you.”

Peyton shot him a look, too, but smiled at Dougie. “I never know what to say when someone says that.”

He laughed, but his smile gentled. “I’m very sorry about your sister. This must be a difficult time for you.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you.”

Once everyone was on board, the engine rumbled to life and the yacht slowly moved out of the harbor and onto the lake. A few people went up onto the deck. He looked at Peyton. “Want to go up and see the view? The city’s really gorgeous at night.”

She squared her shoulders and gave him a tight smile. “Yes. I do.”

“Attagirl.” Her upbringing may have been pampered but there was no shortage of courage in the Watt family from what he’d seen of the three Watt women.

Up on deck the wind chilled their faces as they leaned against the railing and admired the glittering skyline, the reflection of the lights shimmering on the dark water.

“It is beautiful,” she murmured. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re here. You’re actually distracting me from feeling sorry for myself.”

“Is it hard being around your teammates when you can’t play?”

“Yeah. It is, actually. But tonight’s been okay. I think the guys are jealous of me having a hot chick on my arm instead of feeling sorry for me.”

She laughed. “Hot chick. Right.”

“You are.”

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