Tangled Vows (Willow Brook Falls #3)

4. Easton

4

EASTON

I ’d screwed up. Royally.

Shayla clearly didn’t like me, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. Not only had I sent her away when I desperately wanted to get lost in her decadent curves and sweet scent. I’d insulted her, insinuating she wasn’t qualified to do her job. I’d regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. She hadn’t been able to hide her flinch. It wasn’t just that she’d been offended. It went deeper than that. When she talked about helping cancer patients, it seemed personal, like she was referring to someone she loved. A family member maybe? But she hid her pain behind a sharp tongue and calculating gaze. She would no doubt make me pay for that transgression.

And for some reason, the thought of that made me want her even more. I’d have to be careful around her. I couldn’t let her know that every time I looked at her mouth, all I could think about was having her plump pink lips wrapped around my cock or that my hands were itching to touch her again. I wanted to grab her by those lush hips and tangle my hands in her long dark hair, mussing her sleek tresses as I devoured her mouth.

But I couldn’t indulge my desires any more now than I could then. I was instructed to be on my best behavior, to keep my nose clean and my dick out of … well, anyone. My reputation, and ultimately my career, was at stake.

And now? Shayla was completely off limits for another reason. We worked together, and I didn’t mix business with pleasure. There were probably rules against that anyway. I’d have to suffer through each interaction with her knowing I’d never get to steal her breath with a kiss again or make her moan with my tongue between her thighs. She was an enchantress, but I couldn’t answer her siren’s call. It was too risky.

But that didn’t keep me from fantasizing about all the nasty things I wanted to do with her.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I tried to will my hard-on away. How was I supposed to get through the season when I’d have to see her on a regular basis? I wouldn’t make it if I didn’t do something to take the edge off. I hadn’t been laid in months. Maybe I needed to remedy that before I saw her again.

I pulled my hat low, shielding my eyes from the crowd as I entered the bar. My T-shirt and jeans were casual and unassuming, allowing me to blend in with the crowd. If someone recognized me, I was screwed. Pictures would be up on TMZ before I left the bar.

Tonight, I had one goal in mind: find a woman whose company I enjoyed—and who also didn’t know who I was—go home with her for a mutually enjoyable roll in the hay, and leave before morning. This wasn’t my first rodeo, but it would be the first time I’d done this without flaunting my hockey star status. I didn’t want to be recognized or have women flock to me because of my notoriety. I was just Easton, the poor kid from rural Illinois who got lucky the day he missed football tryouts and picked up a hockey stick instead.

Sauntering to the bar, I found an empty stool and dropped onto it. I ordered a beer and turned to scan the crowd while I waited for the bartender to bring my drink. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for.

The group of women sat around a high-top table, sipping colorful drinks. A cute blonde with legs for days and plump, glossy lips caught my eye. She turned and saw me watching, and I flashed her my signature crooked grin. Her eyelashes fluttered flirtatiously as she returned my smile. She brought the straw of her electric blue cocktail to her lips and took a long draw, sucking hard enough to hollow out her cheeks.

Bingo.

My grin widened, and I locked eyes with her for a second before turning back to the bar and swiping my beer bottle off it. No whiskey for me tonight. That tended to get me into trouble.

I took a long drag of the dark lager and waited. It didn’t take long for the attractive doe-eyed bombshell to make her way over to me. As soon as the stool next to me was vacated, she slid in, brushing her hip against my leg.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, placing her half-empty drink on the bar.

I turned my full attention to her, keeping my eyes hidden beneath the brim of my cap. “It is now,” I answered with a playful smirk.

“Are you expecting someone, or are you here all by your lonesome?” she asked in a subtle Southern drawl.

“I’m all alone tonight,” I replied with faux sadness.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” She shot me a flirtatious grin.

“No, ma’am,” I answered before taking another swig of my beer.

I bought her another drink, making small talk while I sipped from my bottle. Our conversations were shallow, never dipping too far below the surface. Just how I liked it. I didn’t need to get to know her to have a good time, and I could tell she was after the same thing I was. A brief reprieve from the noise in our heads, something to make us feel alive and satisfied, if only for a moment.

“I’m ready to get out of here,” she said, running one manicured finger down my arm. "What do you say we go back to my place for a little bit?” That didn’t take long.

“I’d say that sounds like a great idea.”

She slipped off of her stool, tugging the dangerously short hem of her skirt down as she shimmied her hips. It was a good thing because if I had to guess, she wasn’t wearing any panties. Guess I’d soon find out.

Pulling out my phone, I tapped on the car service app and saw there was a driver a few blocks away. I requested a pick-up as the bartender settled my tab, then we made our way to the door. I looked up the moment we stepped outside and halted in my tracks.

Shayla strode toward me, flanked by a group of four other women with three broad shouldered men trailing behind them. She was laughing with the pint-sized blonde whose arm was hooked through hers at the elbow. She drew up short when she saw me, stopping only five feet away.

“Easton,” she practically shrieked, surprise flitting in her eyes as they glanced to my companion then settled back on me.

“Shayla.” I nodded my acknowledgment, but otherwise gave nothing away. I couldn’t let her know that the mere sight of her had my heart rate picking up steam and my blood pumping in my veins, particularly to a very vascular part of my anatomy. The woman on my arm was beautiful, but Shayla was breathtaking.

“You two know each other?” The blonde whose name I couldn’t recall asked as she clung to my arm.

“We, uh, work together,” Shayla replied, giving her a tight smile. “How are you, Mariah?”

Mariah. That was it.

I frowned. Apparently, these two knew each other.

“I’m doing great!” She beamed up at me with a knowing smile.

“Wait a minute,” one of the guys said from the back of the group, “you’re Easton Walker, the new forward for the Richmond Wraiths.” Shit, now my cover was blown. The tiny blonde released Shayla’s arm to elbow him in the gut.

“Macon,” she hissed, turning her widened gaze to him before tipping her head toward me as if to say, “can’t you see he’s trying to keep a low profile?”

Mariah turned her confused gaze to me, recognition flitting in her eyes. “Richmond Wraiths? The hockey team?”

My jaw tightened, but I managed to keep the annoyance out of my voice when I answered, “That’s the one.”

She let out a nervous giggle.

“I guess I didn’t recognize you with the hat on,” she intoned, trying to play off the fact that she had no idea who I was. She leaned further into me, pressing her hand to my chest possessively as she turned up the charm.

Great, this was what I was trying to avoid. I didn’t want to be recognized. I didn’t want a woman taking me into her bed because she was eager to fuck a famous athlete. She didn’t even know who I was and clearly wasn’t a fan judging by her confusion.

“Let’s get out of here so you can show me your stick skills,” she suggested in a faux whisper, pretending like she didn’t want anyone else to hear. They had, though. The entire group in front of us averted their gazes, awkwardly looking anywhere but at us. All except one person.

Steely gray bore into me, that fire burning in Shayla’s eyes heating my skin. If she were a witch, I’d have burst into flames by now, but luckily, the only power she had to use against me was her hate.