Page 15 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
He sat and waited. There was something so refreshing about that.
She now knew that he could speak—heck, he could tell stories better than anyone she’d ever met. But he didn’t feel the need to fill every silence, and that eased her tension almost as much as the soothing background noise of the sports announcers.
“I used to spend whatever time I could at Becky’s.” She ran her thumb down the side of her beer bottle, marking a trail through the condensation. “I liked hanging out with her family.”
Because it meant I didn’t have to hang out with mine.
She took a long swig of her drink. “They were big on sports, and they taught me a ton about hockey, football, baseball, you name it.”
“So you like ’em all?”
She shook her head. “I don’t follow them all fanatically. Just hockey and football. But…”Why are you still talking? Stop talking. Watch the game!
Maybe it was the beer, or his easy smile, but the words kept coming.
“But I love watching pretty much any sport live. I go see the Yankees or the Mets every chance I get—”
“Both?” His brows flew up.
She laughed. “Like I said, I’m not fanatical about all sports, and baseball I just watch for fun.”
And for one silly moment she found herself wanting to tell him all she loved about watching a Yankees game in the summer with a hot dog in one hand and a roaring, wild crowd surrounding her. She had this urge to explain to him so he’d understand the joy that came with losing yourself in the crowd’s enthusiasm. Or even the rush that came with following your team on TV and knowing all the ins and outs that made themyours.
She looked back at the screen, getting caught up in a play. “What are you doing?” She spoke to the TV. “Pass it! Look left!” She was pointing in the air, yelling at players who couldn’t even hear her. “The other left!” She flicked her hand in the air and fell back into her chair, only then becoming aware of JJ’s chuckle. She glanced at him sideways and muttered, “Shut up.”
“Not saying a word.” He raised both his hands, and she couldn’t resist the look on his face.
He was way too cute for his own good.
Cute and handsome. It was a slightly terrifying combination. At least the way her insides were jittering warned her that it was.
JJ was too easy on the eyes… and too easy to talk to. Dangerously so.
She forced her gaze back to the screen, relieved that the Rangers had gotten possession back after stupidly losing it and were now careening toward the goal.
“Go, go, go. Shoot it!” The puck flew into the goal, and she raised her hands with a whoop! “That’s my boys!”
JJ was laughing again. She ignored his grin and finished her bottle of beer in two large gulps before slapping it down on the table.
“I’ll go get us another,” he said, already scooting his chair back.
“Oh no,” she intervened. “This one’s on me. You got the last one.”
His jaw moved, and she could practically feel him wanting to argue. He was old-fashioned like that, this much was clear. She set her hands on the table and leaned over with a mock glare. “I pay my own way, Yoda. That’s just the way it is.”
He gave a huff of laughter as he held his palms up in surrender once again. “Fair enough.”
She grinned in triumph before heading to the bar. “Two more, please.” She held up two fingers to the bartender.
He grinned at her and turned for the fridge behind him.
Dahlia was still wearing a goofy smile. She spotted it with some surprise when she glanced in the mirror over the bar. She tipped her chin down, shaking her head with a rueful snicker.
Man, she’d needed this. A night of hockey and easy company and—
“Hey there, beautiful.” A man with a nasally pitch was standing too close to her. He smelled like tobacco and whiskey, and the first thing Dahlia noticed was the fact that his fingernails needed a trim. His hands were big and broad. They were a working man’s hands.
She moved back, not bothering to look up and check out his face. She didn’t want to encourage him.
