7. Sophie
CHAPTER 7
SOPHIE
I was ready to crawl under the table until Wade got Luke’s attention. If he stared at me like that any longer, I’d have two holes drilled through me, thanks to that penetrating gaze of his. And that smirk on his face…I can’t figure out how he winds up looking sexy even when he’s frowning. Even when I’m not looking, I feel his eyes on me.
But I can’t tell if he’s disgusted with my profession or if there’s something more going on behind that guarded facade. Either way, I’m steering clear. He’s like a volcano simmering on the verge of eruption. And I witnessed his confrontation today during practice.
Granted, Jayce deserved it. He was acting like a hotshot out for his own glory. And there’s a reason they call hockey a violent sport. The guys regularly rough each other up. It’s an expected part of the game. I’ve witnessed enough to understand that aspect. But somehow, seeing Luke take matters into his own hands stirred something in me I’d rather not talk about. Or even consider.
He was just doing what a team captain needed to do. And he used the language of the game. I get that. But just when I didn’t think the man couldn’t look more devastating, he goes and gets all machismo on the ice.
The effort to keep my focus on my drink is almost too much. I want to look up and see if Luke’s staring at me again. I wish I knew what was going on under that mop of dark, wavy hair. I’m like a newbie on skates when he stares at me like that. Unsteady and fumbling.
Afraid to fall…
Is that what this is? Me falling for a hockey player? Oh, please, tell me I’m not turning into a puck bunny. I saw enough of those in college, and despite being in the trenches—aka, locker rooms—with the players on occasion, I prided myself on NOT being drawn to them. The smell alone was enough to nip that in the bud. Killed it, more likely.
Although, I’m not drawn to any of the other guys on this team either…just Luke.
And I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve felt physical attraction before, but this is different and on a much deeper level, which is terrifying, considering the man doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me.
I take another sip of my drink, daring a glance up as I do, and nearly choke, not because of the alcohol but because Luke is staring at me again. He darts his eyes away, but not before recognition rides his gaze. He knows I saw him watching me.
What a funny game this is. Me studying him. Him watching me on the sly. Almost like dance partners trying to figure out each other’s moves. But I’m certain there’s something more there. I feel it in my heart.
Maybe knowing and understanding the trauma of losing a parent connects us on some deeper, unspoken level. I mean, how could it not? Part of me wants to comfort him since he’s obviously still struggling. I know what that feels like. My dad was like my best friend. His death would have destroyed me if not for Marty.
A nudge on my arm alerts me that Payton’s need for the ‘ loo,’ as he calls it, has everyone on our side of the booth sliding out. Before I can sit down again, another group of guys from the team heads in our direction.
Jayce is one of them. I bounce my gaze to Luke to see if he’s noticed yet, but he’s chatting with Wade and has his back to us.
I’m starting to put faces with their names without the help of their numbers, so I recognize Elias first. He’s on the shorter side compared to the rest of the guys.
He stops next to me. “Grüezi mitenand.”
I grin, recognizing his Swiss German greeting for ‘hello, everybody.’
“Guten Abend.”
His eyes widen. “Spichts du Deutsch?”
I laugh. “Nur ein Bi?en.”
“Only a little? Where did you learn?”
His accent is faint, but I remember it clearly from the year I spent traipsing around Europe after my father died. He’d always wanted to go, so I decided to fulfill that dream on my own. “I spent a year traveling all over Europe, but Zürich, Paris, and London were my favorites.”
Payton stops next to us. “Did you say London?”
I nod.
“Well, isn’t that a surprise? I do hope you had a chance to explore more of my fair country than just the big city.” He makes air quotes with his fingers.
“I did, but I still loved the energy of London. So much to see and do.”
Payton mocks a pained expression and holds a hand to his chest. “In other words, she rode the London Eye and now thinks she’s seen it all.”
I smack his arm in a playful manner. “Not true. Although, I did ride it once. I explored a fair bit of the countryside, too.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Payton chuckles, then slides back into the booth, clearing my line of sight to Luke, who’s staring at me again.
No grimace this time, just open curiosity. An improvement, right? Then his eyes scan down the length of my dress. The appreciation I observe in his appraisal makes me happy that I opted for something more than the usual jeans and T-shirt I change into after work.
However, I really shouldn’t care about Luke Jameson’s opinion of me. That’s what I keep telling myself. Hopefully, my heart will listen to my head for once.
Elias sits next to Payton, which puts him in front of my drink. He slides it across the table toward me. “I’m guessing this is yours. Sorry. Didn’t mean to steal your seat.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’ll just sit at the end.” But when I look down, there’s no room left due to the simple fact that these guys are huge. I’m not short at almost five-eight, but these guys still tower over me. Add those broad shoulders, and it’s like I have my own personal Wall of China. I wouldn’t want to meet this crew in a dark alley.
Jayce’s voice comes from behind me. “I’ve got you covered.”
I turn around to find him placing a chair for me. Another one dangles from his other hand as if it weighs nothing. He sets it down next to mine and sits. We’re now the two people occupying the open end of the large booth.
Won’t that be fun for our server? And judging by Luke’s scowl, he’s not happy about this either. Although, I’m not sure if his grumpy attitude is left over from his earlier encounter with Jayce or his mistrust of me. He still seems suspicious of my every move.
But there’s no reason for me to let that ruin an enjoyable evening. This is my chance to become more familiar with some of the players and for them to get comfortable with me, which will make my interviews go much smoother.
And perhaps a more relaxed setting will give me a glimpse of what lies beneath Luke’s icy exterior.
Roughly an hour later, the table is covered with empty fried seafood baskets and an array of half-drunk beer bottles and glasses. Jayce turned out to be a better conversationalist than I expected. He came across as almost vulnerable a couple of times when I asked some personal questions. I can already tell his interview will be one of the easier ones, but I suspect an insecure boy lies at the heart of his tough-guy persona. The one time I asked anything about his family, I got the impression he doesn’t have the best relationship with his father. I resisted the temptation of telling him he’s lucky his father is still around, but I held back, taking another sip of my drink.
I did NOT, however, miss how Luke kept darting his gaze our way despite appearing engaged in Wade’s analytics of their performance at practice today. At one point, Luke used an empty seafood basket as a goal net, then positioned the salt and pepper shakers and the ketchup, mustard, and malt vinegar bottles to demonstrate a play. Wade tossed in a piece of batter as the puck and used his hand as a miniature goaltender, doing outrageous splits with his fingers to block it.
The biggest shocker though? Luke smiled a few times. Not at me, but at the other guys. I only got a side glimpse, though—enough to make me curious about what he would look like if he ever smiled at me.
Probably not going to happen. He pretty much avoided eye contact with me all evening. Thus why I talked to Jayce most of the time or to Elias on my other side, who would occasionally throw in a German word here and there with a wink.
I’ve lost count of how many orders of hush puppies this group consumed. There’s one left in a basket near me, so I decide I’m going for it, seeing as I’ve only had one of those delicious fried balls of seasoned batter. A girl has to pace herself, you know?
Unfortunately, Luke has the same thought at the same time as I do, and our hands kind of smash together as if we’re two awkward teenagers. The warmth of his fingers sends an interesting tingle through me that’s also comforting in an odd way, like finally coming home after a long trip.
Our eyes lock for a moment before he retreats. “You take it.”
“No, that’s okay. You probably need the fuel more than I do.” I let out a disparaging laugh, feeling more vulnerable now that Jayce isn’t a barrier between us. He and Elias decided to play a game of darts near the bar, so I’ve lost my protective barriers. Not that I need protecting from Luke.
Or perhaps I do.
He’s studying me again, but this time, his mouth lifts on one side. “Are you making an assumption, or were you watching me at practice?”
I think my face just caught on fire. And his voice sounds almost…flirty? The slightly mischievous gleam in his eye makes me think he’s flirting with me. Yet his reference to assumptions—again—sends prickles of heat all over me. I’m tempted to slapshot the hush puppy into his mouth and shut him up for good.
Instead, I nab the thing, break it in half, and hold a piece out to him. “Let’s share it.”
He grunts, then brushes my fingers with his when he takes it, making my pulse stutter. But he pauses for a fraction of a second, leaving me to wonder if he felt something, too.
“Sure. Thanks.”
While he pops the entire piece into his mouth, I dip mine into the remoulade sauce and bite off a chunk. As I chew, I scramble for something to say, determined to see if I can engage him in some kind of conversation that requires more than yes or no answers. Or grunts.
“Not a sauce person? ”
He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head but says nothing.
Okay, this may be harder than I think. I’ll try a different tactic. “Beach or pool?”
He frowns. “What?”
I dip the remaining piece of my hush puppy in the sauce. “Which do you like better? Beach or pool?”
“Beach, I guess.”
“How about…spring or fall?”
“Both.”
“Why?” I finish my hush puppy, chewing as I wait for his answer.
He tilts his head. “Is this part of your interview process?”
I shrug. “Just conversation.”
He gives me a curt nod as if he’s willing to consider believing me, but I can tell he’s still not sure. “I like fall because of the cooler weather…” his voice lowers, “and holidays. And spring because of flowers.”
“Flowers? Any particular kind?”
His shoulders lift as he glances away.
Did my question annoy him?
But then his body settles as he studies the glass he’s turning between his fingers. “Roses. Orchids. My mother had a knack for growing both.”
Oh…not annoyance. The bottom of my determination falls out. “Sorry. I didn’t realize?—”
“No, you didn’t.” He runs a hand over his mouth. “I mean, it’s okay. How could you know your question would wind up so personal?”
The soft look he gives me is as disarming as his question. “I didn’t.”
One side of his mouth lifts into a half smile. “Like I said.”
His partial grin feels like a victory. I let out a short laugh. “Do you always have to be right?”
Luke pushes the tepid beer away. “I don’t have to be, but I usually am.”
He doesn’t sound as if he’s bragging. More like he’s making a statement he wishes wasn’t true.
I have no idea what to say next, which makes this moment feel very awkward, yet somehow…intimate, as if Luke creaked open a door kept hidden from the rest of the world. And I so much want to tug it open all the way and march in to see what’s inside.
My hand shakes as I pull my credit card out of the small wallet purse sitting in my lap. “What a week, right? I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Sorry. That was silly. Of course, you’re tired. You’ve been practicing hard all week, getting ready for your first game. I should really get going.”
For the record, I don’t intend to sound like a babbling idiot. It just happens whenever I get nervous. And Luke seems to have a knack for unsettling me.
Amusement fills his gaze. That’s a step up from disdain, right?
Card in hand, I swivel my head around in a desperate attempt to hide my discomfort and find our server, who seems to have vacated the premises.
Luke grasps my wrist and gently pushes my hand down. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
I can’t help but frown at his unexpected offer, which makes this feel almost like a date. “Why?”
His brows lift in surprise. “Because you said you’re tired and want to go?”
Or is he relieved I want to leave? Did I push the whole conversation thing too far? “I can take care of my own dinner, thank you.”
He lets out a small sigh. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”
Our server appears with her handheld reader and takes my card. Luke hands her his after she finishes with me.
I say my goodbyes to the rest of the guys and head toward the exit, ready for some peace and quiet to sort out the chaos in my head. Luke has a knack for muddling my brain, and I’ve had enough tonight.
As I reach the door, it swings open. My eyes track the large hand planted on the wood panel up a muscular forearm to the man standing behind me. Luke’s clean, soapy scent mixed with a hint of something spicy fills my nose and whips the chaos in my head into high gear.
Yep. My brain is officially some kind of mousse at this point. All fluffy with imaginations of what those arms would feel like, wrapped around me.
He lifts one brow as if to challenge me to refuse his help this time.
His gesture unexpectedly stirs the romantic in me—that’s interesting, considering he seems to avoid me most of the time. He never replied to my email with the questions and suggested times so we could finish his interview.
And he could have stayed at the table until I left. Yet, he didn’t. Very interesting indeed.
Instead of brushing off his chivalry, I smile up at him. “Thank you.”
His expression shifts to one of surprise. Score one for Team Sophie.
“No problem.” His voice is gruff but not unkind.
The night air washes over me with a hint of coolness typical for this time of year. We may not have much visual change of season in this part of Florida, but we do enjoy the subtle shift in the temperature and the break in humidity, especially in the evenings.
Luke walks beside me but remains silent as I approach my car.
I stop at my rear fender. “Are you walking me to my car?”
He points to the SUV sitting next to mine. “My ride.”
My face heats, making me wish I hadn’t parked right under the light. Which any sensible woman does for her safety, right ?
Though muted, the deep rumble of chuckle reaches my ears, which I’m sure are the same shade of red as my cheeks by now. “Making those assumptions again, are we?”
A guttural growl rises in my throat with my words. “Goodbye.”
I slide into my car as fast as I can with the intention of leaving without seeing or hearing Luke anymore, but his voice reaches me before I can shut my door.
The humor in his voice is unmistakable. “Night, Sophie.”
I slam my door and grab my seatbelt, which locks up when I yank it, which I do two more times before forcing me to take a deep breath and calm down. Once buckled, I start my engine and glance out my side window to find Luke staring at me with his hands hanging over his steering wheel.
His window is down, so I get a full glimpse of his face as he watches me, and he’s smiling. Not the lopsided one that resembles a smirk, but a full-on grin that reveals a single dimple in his right cheek.
I hit the gas and almost peel out on the gravel. Knowing I will spend the rest of my evening replaying every detail to my immortal embarrassment does little to calm my frustration. Somehow, I have to find a way to keep Luke from getting to me. Or else, this assignment will turn into a daily obstacle course of finding ways to avoid seeing him.
And hoping for another glimpse of that sexy dimple.