Page 85 of The Puck Stops Here
Astrid made a show of checking her watch. ‘I’d love to, but I promised I’d meet a friend this evening.’
‘Another time then?’
A rap on the door came to her rescue and Coach popped his head in. ‘Can I just grab my jacket?’
‘Of course,’ Astrid said, ‘we’re all done here.’
‘Everything going okay?’ He directed the question at Stella.
‘I think so.’ She beamed at Astrid. ‘I believe we have an understanding, don’t we?’
Astrid matched her smile. The woman was fierce, and to be fair, everything Astrid would be in her position. ‘We sure do. Thank you so much for your time today. Both of you.’ She dropped her stuff into her bag and pulled on her coat. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.’
‘Good night,’ Coach said.
‘And don’t be shy, Astrid,’ Stella called after her. ‘Let’s grab that drink sometime.’
‘Sure thing.’
She stepped out into the hallway, trying to get her bearings. The place was a maze, but she knew there was a back way out somewhere around here. She just had to find it. And she wasn’t going to risk asking Stella to point her in the right direction in case she insisted on accompanying her out and giving her anything more ‘off the record’.
Her phone pinged with a message as she moved off and she pulled it out, her heart doing a traitorous jig when it caught Blake’s name…
Blake
Aiden says you’re coming for dinner Tuesday. Heads up, he cooks like he’s feeding the whole bench and the reserves!
She couldn’t stop the gentle curve to her lips as she replied:
Astrid
Consider me warned. Does he have a favourite tipple?
Aiden had said no need to bring anything, but she never went to dinner empty-handed. Not even to Mum’s. And here she was going to theirs and she was… she was excited. Nervous but excited. And as conflicted as ever.
She passed by a wall of press shots, pausing over one of Blake. It had to be a few years old. He was grinning just like his brother beside him but the sense of caged masculinity gave her pause. The way his eyes suggested he was only a moment away from pouncing. Or bolting.
Was that what it had been like living with a father like his? Always knowing that you had to be ready to react, to run…?
She felt her heart contract, her eyes drifting to Aiden, same grin but hislookedeasy. Natural. Affable. But now she knew what that grin hid, and she felt for him. Felt for them both. And the more people told her, the more she liked.
Giving herself a long-overdue shake, she strode forth, straight into the locker room where the players’ shirts were hung over their seats. The Carters’ were front and centre. She automatically stepped up to them, her hand reaching for number 44 – Blake…
‘Lost, Twinkle Toes?’ an oh-so familiar voice asked into the quiet, the deep rumble setting her soul on fire.
She closed her eyes, took a breath and turned, preparing herself for Blake. Butnothingcould have prepared her for Blake, semi-naked and dripping wet, a team-embroidered towel slung low around his hips…
Holy mother of… Delia!
‘Bloody hell, Blake!’ she blurted, pressing a hand to her chest as though it could physically suppress the surging heat within. ‘You scared the life out of me! I thought – I wasn’t – why are you?—’
* * *
‘Well, well, Twinkle Toes has a twinkle mouth.’ He stepped towards her, as amused by her eyes twitching south as he was by her floundering lips. ‘Are you lost?’
‘Am I what?’ she blurted, cheeks as red as the heart of the Titans logo on the floor beneath them. ‘No.’
‘So, you regularly pay a visit to the men’s locker room then?’
