Page 14 of The Wildest One
My family.
Who were as well known in the food space as I was in the hockey scene. Most of the people I spoke to knew me from both avenues. It was refreshing to talk with someone who wasn’t drilling me about where our next restaurant was opening, or if we were looking at venturing into any new cuisines, or even inquiring about some dirt on my teammates—shit I wouldn’t talk about. Ever.
And maybe Jolie did know that my family and I owned The Weston Group—a collection of hundreds of restaurants and a few clubs—and that just didn’t matter to her. Or maybe she had no fucking idea.
Either way, I dug it.
“My whole family—my four siblings and my parents—all live in LA.”
“Hold on a second.” Her hand went to my shoulder. “You have four siblings?”
I laughed. “Three brothers and a sister.”
“Whoa.” Her fingers squeezed. “I only say it like that because I’m an only child. To think about growing up with four siblings is completely wild to me.”
“So is being an only child. What was all that quiet like?”
Her body returned to its previous position, her back resting along the seat cushion. “It gave me a lot of time to think.”
“I can imagine.”
“What was it like to live in a house that was super loud?”
I stilled my fingers as they were stroking her waist. “It gave me little time to think.”
“Ha! Do they come to your games?”
“Most of my home games, yeah.”
“I love that they’re there to support you.”
The SUV came to a stop outside the hotel. I opened the door, getting out first, and I helped Jolie to the ground. I thanked the driver and shut the door, walking her toward the entrance.
“I’m just warning you now, if we run into any of my teammates, there will be a comment. They can’t help themselves. We’re a bunch of inappropriate bastards with way too much shit to say.”
She smiled, the lights by the hotel’s overhang allowing me to see the shine of her teeth and the light blue of her eyes and the hint of flushness in her cheeks. “If it happens, I’ll try not to internally die.”
“Don’t do that. My team’s relationship is fifty percent hockey, fifty percent razzing each other. It’s me they’d be picking on, not you.”
My hand left her lower back and found her fingers as the doorman opened the lobby door for us. We went inside, immediately heading for the elevator. I hit the button, and as we waited, I watched her look around the large space.
“My home for these next three nights, which is nuts. I never thought …” As her voice drifted off, her gaze locked with mine. “You do know I have nothing with me except for this purse.” She lifted her wrist, where the small bag dangled. “No toothbrush. No change of clothes. Nothing.”
“Whatever you need, I’ll have delivered to the hotel.”
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside, where I hit the button for the top floor.
“Even clothes?” she asked.
I moved her toward the back, leaning her against it. My arms lifted, and my hands pressed against the mirrored wall on a spot above her head. And what that did was create a cage, Jolie in the center.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t wear any.”
Her brows lifted. “The whole time I’m with you?”
“Yes.”
“What about when I take you around Boston? You’d like me naked then too?” She smiled.
