“But Beak plays for the puss . . . Hi, sweetheart!” Leo changed his tone in a hurry as Georgia sidled up to him.
“What inglorious conversation have I stumbled into?” Georgia asked, relieving Leo of his beer and taking a gulp. “With twice as many athletes present as usual, I’m sure the smack talk is flying. It better not be about me.”
“Never,” he said, kissing her jaw. “Dance with me?”
“Only if you share your drink. The line at the bar got long all of a sudden.” She took another sip.
“Of course.” Leo cupped her elbow in his hand, guiding her toward the dance floor. “Want to take a walk on the beach, later? I heard there were hammocks . . .”
Mike watched the two of them slip away through the crowd. The rookie’s eyes were locked on his fiancée’s. Leo put up with a fair amount of friendly ribbing over how smitten he was with Georgia, and the kid took it like a champ. He knew he was lucky, and he didn’t care what people said.
Mike and Lauren used to have what they had—that effortless connection.
He wanted it back.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Mike began weaving through the crowd toward Lauren. She was sipping a drink which could have been either a gin and tonic or a club soda with lime. And she was standing a discreet few feet from her boss, probably ready to step in and rescue him from anyone who tried to dominate his time.
Whenever Mike was tempted to think that being a sports star was a drag, one look at Nathan and he knew he had it easy. People liked meeting hockey players, but they wanted things from Nate.
He zeroed in on Lauren, where she leaned against the end of the bar. He must have worn his intensity right on his face because when she saw him approaching her eyes got big.
“You summoned me?” he said, stopping a foot away and folding his arms across his chest.
Slowly she shook her head. “If you were summoned it was by someone else. That redhead, maybe.”
He smiled because she’d noticed the redhead. That meant she’d been watching him, too. He let his eyes drift down her body slowly. He’d bought the dress on a whim. She’d been trying on shoes in a store, and he’d been eating an ice cream cone outside. The color caught his eye in a shop window. Somehow he just knew it would fit her. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind. He’d asked the startled women working there to wrap it up.
His gaze dropped all the way down, then took a lingering path back up, past Lauren’s hips, where his hands had once enjoyed skimming the fabric. Up to her breasts, just visible above the soft folds of the blue silk. He leaned forward and spoke into her ear. “You summoned me by wearing this.” He let his lips just brush the shell of her ear as he spoke.
She shivered mightily. But then she sidestepped him. “I didn’t think you’d even remember,” she said, giving him a cutting look. Then she turned her back and marched away, toward the hotel lobby.
He stood there watching her go. Every ounce of her anger toward him was deserved, but time was in short supply. He couldn’t afford to just shrink back and wait for Lauren to realize there was a reason they couldn’t stop watching each other from the opposite ends of a party.
Finishing his beer, he tried to think what to do. He was done with this shindig, though. He’d put in his time. Setting down his empty drink, he made his way past the pool where hotel guests were still splashing, even in the dark.
When he spotted the check-in desk, he got an idea.
THIRTEEN
Storming into the ladies’ room, Lauren didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. You summoned me, he’d said. And, damn it, she had, even though it hadn’t really been her intent.
She was truly amazed that he’d remembered the dress. Men weren’t supposed to remember these things. They were supposed to have hammock sex and then forget about it by cocktail hour the following day. And if Mike was the rare romantic who could never forget a big moment, then why had he treated her so carelessly?
For someone who supposedly still loved her, he had a funny way of showing it.
Lauren was just standing there avoiding her reflection in the mirror when she heard a groan. A glance revealed the hem of an adorable fifties-style dress beneath one of the stalls. “Rebecca? Are you okay?” she called.
“I don’t know,” came a wobbly voice.
“What’s the matter?”
The next groan sounded more frustrated than ill. “I wasn’t supposed to drink. But I thought a single glass of champagne would be okay.”
“And it isn’t?” Lauren guessed.
“Not so much, no.”
“Do you feel sick?”
The stall door opened slowly. “I thought I did, but my stomach is fine.” Becca wobbled out. “My head is all woozy, though. I need to go upstairs.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lauren said quickly.
Becca’s eyes grew damp. “Don’t tell Nate. He’ll be pissed at me.”
“Oh, screw him,” Lauren said, reaching over to take Becca’s hand. “He doesn’t control us.”
“But he’s gone to so much trouble for me, and I’m such an idiot.” She reached up with a free hand to rub her temple. “The fancy new doctor said not to drink. And I didn’t listen.”
“Lesson learned, then,” Lauren said lightly. “Where are your shoes?”
“Oh, crap,” Becca said, a little sob escaping her. “I left them under a bar stool.”
Since this was such a nice hotel, there was an upholstered sofa near the door. “Sit here. I’ll find your shoes.”
“Really? I’m sorry. You’re being so nice to me.”
Ugh. That only proved she’d been a perfect bitch before. “It’s fine. Just don’t go anywhere.” She helped Rebecca to a seat and then slipped out of the powder room.
Her return to the party was accomplished with stealth worthy of a James Bond movie. She didn’t want to catch Nate’s eye, and she didn’t want to bump into Mike, either. But the shoes were quickly located when Nate’s back was turned, and Mike wasn’t visible anywhere.
Twenty minutes later a dizzy Rebecca was safely tucked into her bed.
First, Lauren waited while Becca changed into an amusingly skimpy nighty. “I’m sorry you’re not getting your sexy encounter with a basketball player.”
Becca glanced down at her lacy negligee and gave a wobbly shrug. “This isn’t for special occasions. I always wear lingerie. It’s my way of reminding myself that sex still exists.”
“Huh. I should try that. And Nate would pee himself if he saw you in this.”
“Why?” Becca burped.
Whoops. “Do you need any aspirin?” Lauren asked to cover her Freudian slip. “Or a glass of water?”
“I guess water is a good idea. I just feel so odd. Like I had ten drinks instead of two.”
“Hmm.” She fetched a glass of water from the bathroom. “Look, do you think we should call your doctor?”
“No!” Becca groaned. “One glass of wine can’t kill me. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“Are you sure?” Lauren asked. “Nate won’t be mad.”