Page 14 of Claimed By the Goalie Alpha
She led me through the main dining room where every table seemed occupied by couples leaning close and speaking in low voices. My palms were sweating. What if this was a mistake? What if I'd misread everything and Renard was just being polite? But I rounded a decorative screen into a corner section and Renard stood up.
He wore jeans and a soft charcoal sweater that I wanted to stroke. He looked at me as though I was the only person in the room. His gaze moved from my face to my mouth and back up. Goosebumps spread over my skin.
"Hi." I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
"Hi." His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but was close. He pulled out the chair across from him. "Sit, please."
The table was small and intimate. Our knees bumped as I settled in. The contact sent heat up my leg even though it was a pleasant temperature in the restaurant.
A waiter appeared with menus and water and explained the specials before disappearing. I stared at the menu without reading it, too aware of Renard's presence across from me. Every time I moved in my chair, his eyes were on me and his gaze was almost like a touch.
“Everything looks so good," I told him.
I managed to focus enough to choose the risotto special the waiter had rattled off. At least I thought I had. My attention was on the man across from me and his fingers drumming once against the table.
"I'm glad you got Bailey to the vet," he said after the waiter left. "I checked with the clinic and she was released the next day."
"You did that?”
His ears went red. "I wanted to make sure she was okay."
"That's really sweet."
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
It was the closest thing to a joke I'd heard from him and I found myself smiling. "Your secret's safe with me."
The food arrived. My risotto looked incredible. I took a bite and barely tasted it because every time I looked up, Renard was watching me. His attention tracked the movement of my fork to my mouth, lingering on my lips. When I reached for my water glass, our hands brushed, and he made a tiny sound that could have been a whimper.
"Can I ask you something?" I set down my fork, unable to focus on food when sitting across from him like this.
"Sure."
"Why now? You've been pulling away and then this." I jerked my head toward the restaurant.
Renard wrapped his fingers around his wine glass but he didn't drink. "Relationships are complicated for me."
"Because of hockey?"
"Partly. There’s the schedule, the travel and all the attention." He paused. "But it's more than that. My life isn't ummm normal."
"Whose is?"
"Mine especially." He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "There are things about me that make being with someone difficult. I can't easily explain it and there are parts of myself I have to hide."
I thought about the intensity in his eyes and how he seemed to be constantly holding himself back. "Are you in witness protection or something?"
That surprised a laugh out of him. "No. Nothing illegal."
"Then I'm not sure what could be that complicated."
"You say that now."
"Try me."
He looked at me across the table and under the table his knee pressed more firmly against mine. "What if I told you that being with me means accepting things you don't understand? I can't share everything right away? There's a whole part of my life you'd have to be patient about?"
"I'd say everyone has secrets. I'm patient, remember?"
