Page 47 of Shootout
Cin snorted. “More like a sewing machine, but I do try.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting.” I’d never been much of a domestic type, and I wouldn’t be able to thread a sewing machine, let alone use one. I had the utmost respect for someone who had the talent and patience to create fashion.
“Cin designed this jersey for me. I love glitter. She’s in high demand to make formal gowns for the Parker gala,” Agnes continued. “I’m glad I got my order in early.”
“You and Banks are going, aren’t you? It’s the can’t-miss event of the season when it comes to the Sockeyes. Ethan and his family insist the players attend. I’ve never been much for galas, but I had fun at this one last year.” Cin waited for my answer.
I was caught off guard. Nothing had been said to me about a gala, and I didn’t dare assume we were going. I didn’t even know when the thing was. Since Banks was new to the team, he probably didn’t either. Thinking he was as clueless as I was made me feel better than if he knew about it and didn’t want to take me.
“Now when is that? I forget.” I hoped they wouldn’t see through my lie.
“Don’t worry. You have a few months to get ready.”
Or a few months to break up with Banks so we didn’t have to worry about going together.
“How is Banks settling in with the team?” Cin asked.
“Okay, they’re starting to warm up to him. My brother will be the hardest nut to crack, and he is a hard nut.”
Agnes laughed. “Brothers can be overprotective pains in the ass, but you have to love them.”
“Spoken like someone who knows.”
“I do. My brother has been one of my rocks since I lost my Charles. My dear husband was a huge hockey fan, and we were good friends with Ethan Parker’s parents.”
“I’m sorry to hear of your loss.”
Agnes patted my hand. “It’s fine, dear, I miss him, but I’m strong and a survivor. I’m grateful to the girls for taking me in as their honorary grandmother. I don’t know what I’d do without them, as I don’t have children of my own.”
My opinion of these women rose considerably. Not only were they beautiful, but they were kind as well. I’d be proud to be considered one of their group. Only I was a fake. I shouldn’t even be here. As the night wore on, I waited for some sign they were onto me and my lies, but nothing came. They were sincerely nice to me, which made me feel unworthy of their friendship.
Banks didn’t play much, but what little he did play, his game seemed off. He was out of sync with his linemates, and they often passed to each other, leaving him out. Intentional or not, his line would have to come to terms with each other and learn to trust. So much of hockey involved knowing your linemates so well you knew where they were going to be before they were there. Banks, Alex, and Jasper didn’t have the benefit of time together, and it showed.
The Sockeyes lost the game, but their rookies had some good moments, especially Banks’s Russian roommate, who had flashes of brilliance.
Afterward, Banks surprised me. We went to dinner at a small Italian restaurant. The atmosphere was intimate and romantic. He’d never taken me anywhere before but the Place, which I assumed was because we needed to be seen together. We wouldn’t be seen in this out-of-way little place.
I was nervous being around him after our Zamboni incident, and I’d hoped for safety in numbers rather than this. I folded and unfolded my napkin multiple times until I noticed Banks watching me. I put it in my lap and kept it there.
Banks ordered a bottle of merlot. While waiting for our meals, we sipped our wine and nibbled on the most heavenly bread fresh from the oven.
“Have you eaten here before?”
“No, but a couple of the guys go here all the time and recommended it.”
“I love good Italian food.”
“Then you’re going to love this. It’s supposed to be the best in Seattle.”
“My mouth is watering already.” My words sounded stiff and awkward to my ears. Was this how it was going to be from now on? I was super aware of him, on edge, and fighting memories of our sexy time last night. Neither of us brought up the Zamboni in the room, but we had to eventually. The thing loomed between us.
“So is mine,” he said pointedly while staring at my lips. A thrill of excitement sizzled through me, and my power to resist him was vaporized with just one look. I’d sworn after last night I wouldn’t sleep with him again, but my convictions were mush and no steadier than leaves in the wind.
I took a deep breath and studied my wine.
“Jessie.” He grasped one of my hands from across the table. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What?” I said innocently. I didn’t quite pull it off, and he rolled his eyes.
