“Not interested tonight.” Or ever. “Feel free, though.”
Grimson shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m done with the ‘fairer’ sex for now. Not worth the aggravation. I’m going to focus on upping my game. On getting this hand healed, on getting better, on getting stronger. There’s a chance I could be back in the lineup if we go much deeper in the playoffs, and I want to be ready.”
“That’d be sweet. We could use you.” Quinn tipped his bottle back and finished his brew just as Nelson came rushing back into the restaurant, an idiotic look plastered on his face.
Grims gave him a barely there chin jerk. “What’s with the jackass grin, Nelson?” The rapport between the two had landed in the shitter after Nelson busted Grimson doping. Though they put on a show of having kissed and made up in front of the team, their differences were palpable, and their relationship skidded across thin ice.
“Just heard from Lily, and she’ll be here tomorrow before lunch.”
“Who flies from Denver to Edmonton in the morning?” asked Quinn.
“The Gulfstream I just hired. Otherwise, it would have taken her four cities and over a day to get here.”
“Jeez, dude. Desperate much? You still can’t see her for four days,” Quinn quipped. “That must have set you back a fair piece.”
“Not that bad. And the sooner she gets here, the sooner she’ll be out of quarantine. Besides, she thinks I’m a hero.” Nelson’s grin broadened—so did his chest. Quinn couldn’t blame him. After months of celibacy, he was glad to see someone getting lucky soon.
Grims looked poised to make a snide comment, so Quinn jumped in. “Daisy coming too?”
“No, she’s staying with family. But Sarah’s tagging along.”
Quinn’s back went ramrod straight so fast that Grimson shot him a questioning look. Forgetting he’d already drained it, Quinn put the beer bottle to his lips to coat his suddenly dry throat. Now Grims arched a covert eyebrow.
“Where, ah, where’s she staying?” Quinn managed.
“Not with Lily and me, that’s for damn sure.” Nelson’s tone was emphatic. “She and Lily will quarantine together, and Sarah will stay in that room after Lily moves in with me.”
Whitney reappeared with Quinn’s bill and a pen. “You can charge it to your room.” While Nelson and Grimson watched, she leaned in so close he could smell her perfume and feel her tits pressed against his shoulder. She pointed to a line on the tab. “Just write your room number right there, and I’ll see you later.” With a sly wink, she sashayed away.
Ignoring his teammates’ guffaws, he waited until she was gone, pulled out his wallet, and left cash. No way was he letting Whitney know his room number. The only woman he wanted showing up at his door would be here tomorrow. All he had to do was convince her they belonged together—an undertaking far more daunting than getting the winning score past a goalie who was playing out of his mind. He had four days to figure out how.
Hours later, Quinn lay in bed, staring up at a dark ceiling. Exhausted as he was, he should have been sawing logs, but he couldn’t settle down while Sarah traipsed through his brain. What would he say when he saw her? Was she coming to see him? He could only hope. Wouldn’t she have texted to let him know, though? Should he tell Nelson and risk upsetting the applecart when the team was playing so well? Was there anything to tell anymore? The thoughts tossed and turned and got wadded in his head.
He’d been relieved to get on the road after spending weeks in the behemoth mansion alone. Unlike here, where everywhere he looked it was all about hockey and his buddies and bubble living, the house had been filled with echoes of Sarah. He’d found himself in the solarium, looking at the 3-D puzzles with longing, picturing himself alongside her as they built them. Or stepping into her bedroom and surrounding himself with her fragrance that still lingered on the linens and pillows.
She’d left her engineering magazines behind, and he’d riffled through those without seeing a damn thing. He’d pulled his stuff out of the mirrored closet and put it elsewhere so he didn’t have to set foot in there again and imagine their bodies reflected in bright silver. In the kitchen or family room, he pictured her there, and the space was suddenly imbued with a warmth he’d never known he wanted before meeting her. Not only did he want it, but he craved it.
And tomorrow she would be here.
Chapter 39
Voila!
Four days in the hotel room had felt like fourteen, but finally, the wait was over. As Sarah and Lily emerged from the elevator on the main level, Gage greeted them. Correction: he greeted Lily with an embarrassing PDA and acknowledged Sarah’s presence.
As she waited for her brother to end his liplock on his fiancée and come up for air, Sarah glanced around casually, her radar on high alert for a tall, dark, exquisitely cut man with eyes like hot fudge sauce and a dimpled smile that turned her knees to mush. But Quinn was nowhere in sight. Probably didn’t even know she was there. She certainly hadn’t told him. And why hadn’t she? In case he didn’t want to see her or she saw him with someone else, at least she could make a quick exit with some dignity intact.
The longer she stood there, the more her stomach knotted. She reassured herself it was a big place; she probably wouldn’t even run into Quinn. During games, in the WAGs suite high above the ice—with a mask on—he’d never know she was there.
Yeah, right.
Gage had knocked himself out, hiring a private jet to fly them to Edmonton and a limo to drive them to the hotel when they’d touched down. But he’d booked the
