Page 33 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“Maverick, so nice of you to join us again,” I said, unable to keep my gaze from traveling the expanse of his broad back, and to where he filled out his jeans—nope!
Don’t go there.
He spun around, plastering on an enormous smile.“Hey!Smells amazing in here.But it always does in your house.Thanks for having me over again.I hope it wasn’t an imposition?”
I shook my head.“It’s lasagna.There’s plenty to go around.”
His focus drifted down my body, stopping on my lap, and his mouth dipped into a frown.“How are your thighs?”
For half a second, I didn’t clue in to what he meant.Then it dawned on me.I wore loose, flowy trousers to keep the fabric from accidentally rubbing against my burns.“They blistered pretty badly.So I have some loose gauze on them right now.Itches.”
He nodded and regret filled his gaze.“I’m really sorry.”
“Not your fault at all.”
Could we please get off the topic of my legs?Off me entirely?
My son made a noise of discontent in his throat.“Come on,” he said, shooting me a look like I was showing Maverick naked baby photos of Damon or something equally “cringe”as the kids called it.“We can play in here.”
Maverick cast another smile with a glittery-eyed glance at me before following Damon into the living room.
I heaved a heavy sigh and returned to the kitchen just as my front door opened.Raina and Naomi both walked in, inhaling deeply.
“I thought I smelled lasagna,” Raina said, bobbing her brows up and down.
“Gabs does make the best lasagna,” Naomi added.
“Is this your way of procuring an invitation to dinner?”I asked with a wry smirk.
“Who’s that?”Raina asked, ditching her shoes and coming into the kitchen.She was smart enough to drop her voice to a whisper.“He isverynice looking.But quite young.Older than Damon though.”
“That’s Maverick Roy,” I said, getting the salad spinner out of the cupboard.Now that we had more people around our table—because my cousins and their kids would absolutely be staying for dinner too—I needed to wash more lettuce.
“The hockey player?Yourhockey player?”Naomi asked.
“He’s notmyhockey player.He’sahockey player.For the Portland Storm.And he wasourhockey player whom we hosted when we lived in Spokane and he played for the Chiefs.”
“What’s he doing here?”Raina asked, going to the half-full wine bottle with a stopper in it on the counter and bringing down three wineglasses from my cupboard.
“He came here to visit us.He’s doing rehab with Maz at Unger Wellness.”I gave her a curious look.“He’s staying in one of the McEvoy cabins.Doesn’t your boyfriend tell you anything?”
Naomi rolled her eyes.“Their relationship is new.I doubt they do muchtalking.”
I snorted.
“Jagger is still recovering from his injuries.We talk plenty,” Raina retorted almost with regret … or frustration in her voice.
“He shattered his kneecap, nose, and face, but I didn’t think he broke his dick,” Naomi teased.
“They’re pretty private about their guests in the cabins,” Raina said, trying to change the subject from her wild sex life with the bearded lumber-snack in glasses.“Youalsocould have told us that he was here visiting.Why’dyoukeep it a secret?”She was very good at turning the tables and deflecting.However, as someone who argued for a living, I wasn’t going to take the bait.
All I did was shrug.“Didn’t think it was newsworthy.”
“Right.”Raina handed me a glass of wine, kept one for herself, and gave the third to Naomi.
“What’s Danica up to?”I asked.
“Telehealth meeting with a counselor for Sam,” Naomi replied.Concern filled her gaze.“Did you guys know Sam’s anxiety was getting as bad as it is?”
