16. Sophie
CHAPTER 16
SOPHIE
I hadn’t planned to wait for the guys to come out after the game. Just like I hadn’t planned to wear a Sun Kings jersey. But Kinsley had insisted both times. She’s tough to resist. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with so much wit at such a young age. And sarcasm. The girl has it down to a science, and I find it incredibly amusing. I can already tell she will make an amazing journalist.
The first of the players walks out, freshly showered and back in his suit. His girlfriend rushes at him and throws herself into his arms. It’s heartwarming…a real picture of what goes on after a game. I yank my camera out as fast as possible and take a couple of shots of them embracing, then walking down the hallway hand-in-hand.
I hadn’t planned this either, but I’ve no doubt a glimpse of these guys dressed so voguish with their sweethearts will go a long way in connecting the fans to the players. A peek into the real side of the hockey persona that comes with the job. And then it hits me—it’s kind of romantic, too.
That’s a spin I can easily add. If the fans go nutty not just over the sport but also the romance of it, what better way to transition my coverage of the team into a regular column ?
I’m so giddy over the idea that I have to bite my lip to keep from squealing. More of the players file out, so I continue snapping shots of them either reuniting with a loved one or bro hugging each other in celebration of their win.
Finally, Luke walks out. His damp hair curls over the collar of his white button-down, and he’s neatly shaven. I want the Sun Kings to make the playoffs so I can see what he looks like with a beard.
And that suit… I think my face just turned fifty shades of pink. The jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders, then narrows down to his waist. I’ve always loved a man in a suit. There’s simply something about it…
“Great game, big bro. Loved the hat trick.” Kinsley wraps her arms around him, her head barely reaching his shoulder.
The tenderness in Luke’s expression as he kisses the top of her head about does me in at this point. I snap a few shots to capture the moment, grateful the camera acts as camouflage, hiding most of my raging blush.
Kinsley’s grin is epic, making her eyes squint. Pure delight covers her face. The bond between these two is something to behold, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of bittersweet that their mother isn’t here to see it. I know family can come in all shapes and sizes—having Marty and Clara in my life is proof of that. But knowing what Luke and Kinsley have gone through and seeing their closeness now sends an ache through me. My mom died when I was so little, and my dad never remarried, so no siblings for me.
He lifts his head and does a full body scan of me. “Wearing my jersey, I see.”
My breath catches at the flair of heat riding his gaze. He likes that I’m wearing his name,
When Kinsley insisted we match, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. I get what it can mean to these guys to see their girlfriends and wives in their jerseys. But I’m neither to Luke.
Yet there’s no mistaking his reaction to me wearing it. With a nervous laugh, I shift my camera to one hand and pull out the bottom of the jersey with my other. “Kinsley’s idea. She wanted to make sure you were well represented.”
“Doesn’t it suit her?” Kinsley’s upturned face turns into pure mischief, and there’s a subtle coo to her voice, telling me this girl is definitely up to something.
Luke grunts yet says nothing. But one side of his mouth lifts in a partial grin as his eyes rove over me again, sending a shiver through me. Reminds me of that warm feeling you experience when you leave the chill of air conditioning and walk outside on a hot summer day.
Kinsley lets go of Luke and reaches for my camera. “Stand by my brother so I can take a picture of the two of you together.”
Together… Why does that bring something in my heart to life in a big way?
“Sure.” I set my bag down and show Kinsley how to operate my camera.
I attempt to gauge Luke’s reaction to his sister’s request as I stand next to him, but his stoic expression tells me nothing.
Kinsley lowers the camera and frowns at us. “Try to look more natural.”
Luke glances at me, then lands his gaze on his sister. “What do you mean by more natural?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. You both look so stiff. Maybe put your arm across her shoulders.”
I suspect Kinsley has the wrong idea about Luke and me, but before I can say anything, Luke’s hand slides onto my hip and tugs me against him, causing me to squeak like a timid mouse.
He must still be overheated from the game because the heat radiating from him envelopes me like a warm blanket on a chilly day. I don’t think I’ve experienced anything like it before—an intense attraction intermingled with a sense of peace as if returning home after a long trip.
Kinsley totally gets into the role of photographer and snaps a stream of pictures, giving us instructions on how to pose. At one point, she instructs Luke to hug me, which he does. A kind of sideways hug that presses me against him. The deep rumble of his chuckle ripples through me in waves, making me hyper-aware of his spicy clean scent and the firmness of his chest. He’s like a wall of muscle.
“How about you two turn and look into each other’s eyes?” Kinsley bounces expectant eyes between us.
I step away from Luke and take the camera from her. As much as I’d like to think Luke is enjoying our close proximity, I know he’d do anything to make his sister happy. “I think we have enough pictures now.”
While I’m crouched down, finishing packing my camera, Luke reaches down and takes the handles of the bag.
“Let me help you with that.” He’s leaning over me, his face close as I stare up at him.
The man seems to make helping people his mission in life—something I’m finding as attractive as those sculpted lips, which are a mere breath away from mine, by the way.
“Okay. Thanks.” My voice comes out breathy.
As I rise, he leans in closer. His lips brush my ear as he speaks, sending a wave of heightened anticipation through me.
“I wouldn’t have minded another picture or two with you.”
His words snatch every bit of oxygen out of my lungs. Before I react, let alone say anything, he stands next to Kinsley, whose smug expression compliments Luke’s cocky grin.
His gaze challenges me as if he’s asking what I’m waiting for. I resist the urge to close my eyes and relive that brief brush of his lips on my ear so I can brand it into my memory because I know my track record, and I don’t want Kinsley to suffer more disappointment than she already has.
I inflate my lungs as full as possible so I don’t faint or wobble as we leave the arena. Once outside, I take my bag from Luke. “Thanks. ”
“Anytime.”
One simple word, yet the tone of his voice wraps around me like an invitation for more. And I so want to accept. Thankfully, my common sense overrides the silly romantic in me before I do something foolish.
A young man walks toward us, a friendly smile on his face as he approaches Kinsley. Her grin, however, tells me she sees him as more than just a friend. Her entire demeanor changes from a confident yet sarcastic young adult to a shy and somewhat awkward teenager. “Brandon’s here.”
Luke’s easy expression shifts to a scowl as he studies first his sister, then Brandon. I may not have any siblings, but I recognize an overprotective brother when I see one.
Kinsley gestures to her friend. Or should I say boyfriend? “This is Brandon.”
Luke reaches his large hand out to shake his hand as Kinsley introduces him.
“Good to meet you, sir.” Brandon’s voice holds exactly the right amount of respect and fear.
Luke grunts, then clears his throat. “Good to meet you. Brandon.” He pronounces both syllables of his name succinctly with an underlying threat, which makes Brandon’s eyes widen.
Voice dripping with sarcasm, Kinsley pats Luke’s arm. “He’s just being friendly.”
Luke crosses his arms, but he’s wearing his suit jacket, so it makes his biceps and chest appear larger. I’m pretty sure that was intentional.
He lifts his chin. “What’s the plan?”
Brandon darts a panicked look at Kinsley. “Plan?”
Luke takes a menacing step closer. “Driving straight through or stopping for the night?”
“Straight through, sir. We plan to take shifts driving and sleeping. I have snacks and drinks in a cooler already, and our route mapped out. We should arrive back in New York by dinner time tomorrow,” he rattles off like a soldier under the gun.
I’m kind of impressed by this guy. He’s obviously a planner and seems trustworthy so far.
The muscle in Luke’s jaw ticks as he considers Brandon’s answer. “Good.”
I give Kinsley a hug. “I guess this is goodbye. Call me if you need help with anything, okay?”
She smiles and nods.
Luke’s eyes are like twin lasers as he stares at his sister. “I want a phone call at every stop.”
“But we’ll be driving all night.”
“I don’t care. Call,” Luke growls.
She rolls her eyes. “And there’s the Lukinator. Yes, I will call you at every stop and give a full report when we arrive.”
Luke hugs his sister, then gives Brandon a menacing look that makes him trip.
I cover my mouth to hide my smile.
Kinsley gets about ten feet away when she turns and points at us. “You two should go out and celebrate.”
Luke lowers his chin, looking rather fierce, and growls, “Call me.”
His sister rolls her eyes again before spinning back around. Brandon has his hands in his pants pockets and keeps his distance as they stride across the parking lot. I think Luke accomplished putting the fear of annihilation in him if he does anything out of line.
We stand there, saying nothing as they drive away like two parents watching their kid leave for college or something. I find the feeling rather surreal.
“Hungry?”
The sudden break in the silence makes me jump. I tilt my face toward Luke, who’s still staring out over the emptying parking lot. I think I saw a couple of fans pointing at him, but I’m guessing his fierce stance scared them off.
“I rode up on the bus.”
He leans toward me, sending a rush of excitement through me at his nearness. “I’m driving back to Sarabella tonight. I can drive you back.”
The wise thing to do here would be to go back with the team, but I’m not feeling much wisdom at the moment. I can’t shake the sensation of Luke’s mouth brushing my ear, which has me wondering what those chiseled lips of his would feel like on mine.
Going out to dinner with him could be asking for trouble. Not in a dangerous way. I feel safe with Luke. My heart, on the other hand, is cautious, of course. I know me. I’m not good at romance. So maybe I can figure out a way to keep this to friendship.
That’s doable, right? “Sure, why not? I’ll text Coach and let him know I’m heading back with you.”
“Great.” He takes my bag from my shoulder. “I’m parked over there.”
When we reach his SUV, he puts his hand on the small of my back as he opens the door for me. I lift the hem of the jersey, intending to take it off so I don’t look quite so casual next to Luke in his suit.
He pushes my hands down. “Maybe you should leave it on. It’s getting cooler in the evenings.”
The heart in his eyes reveals the real reason he wants me to leave it on. I remember full well how the hockey players in college loved seeing the puck bunnies wearing their names. But I only wore Luke’s jersey to make Kinsley happy. Mostly.
I confess I did think of how Ethan reacted to Mia wearing his jersey. You’d have thought the guy had won the Stanley Cup. “But I’m underdressed next to that swaggy suit of yours.”
“Not a problem.” He slips his jacket off and tosses it onto the backseat without a care, then rolls up his sleeves despite the coolness of the evening air. “There. ”
I think Luke’s sexy factor just doubled. “Now you might get cold.”
“I live on the ice. I’ll be fine.” He stows my bag behind my seat as I get in, then closes my door and jogs around the car to the driver’s side.
After he starts the engine, he twists to face me. “What kind of food are you in the mood for?”
I try not to stare at him like he’s the sustenance for this hunger ripping through me that has nothing to do with my stomach. He’s a beautiful man—sexy as all get out, strong…caring…always helpful. And I’m getting the feeling this dinner celebration is turning into something…more.
I blurt out the first thing that comes to me. “Pizza?”
His grin is slow…easy, making me feel all wobbly inside again. “Perfect.”
He settles into his seat, shifting the car into drive.
Remembering a remark Kinsley made earlier makes me giggle.
He glances over at me. “What’s so funny?”
“Lukinator?”
He grunts. “Long story.”
“You still haven’t explained your sister’s nickname. Should I be worried for my safety?” I take a large bite of my pizza, savoring the gooey cheese and mushroom combination. Luke said this new place was almost as good as the one in Jacksonville, and I’m inclined to agree. Plus, I’m digging the sports bar vibe. Takes me back to my college days.
Luke indulged in four slices of pepperoni pizza—his way of celebrating his hat trick—before moving on to his large salad with chicken. He wipes his mouth. “When Kinsley hit her teens, she was hell on wheels. Mom needed some help with her.” He sighs. “That’s when the nickname started.”
“She’s quite the dynamo.”
“You have no idea. And thank you, by the way.”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “For what?”
“Helping her see she’s a good writer.” He stares at me while he chews, and I’m fascinated again with how his lips move.
I have to drag my eyes away because my thoughts are hopping down a bunny trail that’s getting harder to resist exploring. “She wasn’t going to quit. She just needed a little encouragement.”
He grunts as he shifts in his seat. “Sounds familiar.”
I jerk my head up at the vulnerability in his voice and lock eyes with him, wanting to ask him to expand on his comment. But I recognize this as a tenuous moment—one where silence is the better invitation for him to continue.
The focus of his gaze shifts to the brick wall behind the booth where we’re sitting. “I didn’t plan to return to hockey.”
His confession pushes my question to a whisper. “Why did you then?”
His shoulders relax, and those delicious lips of his turn upward in a warm smile that reaches his eyes. “Kinsley. She deserves to go after her dream. And college isn’t cheap.”
“No, it isn’t.” Seeing the love swimming in his gaze while he speaks about his sister causes a knot of emotion in my throat. And a longing for someone to look like that when they talk about me makes breathing difficult.
Another bunny trail trying to run off with my thoughts? I fold my second slice in half and take a bite, then do a sweep of the pictures on the wall above us.
“Is that Wayne Gretzky?” I point to a picture of a hockey player in motion, bent over his stick and skating with the puck.
One side of Luke’s mouth tips up as if he’s pleased I knew who it was. “Yep.”
“Good ole 99,” I say with a swagger.
He raises his brows in a mix of surprise and humor. “I think I’m impressed.”
I set down my pizza to take a drink of my soda. “I was a sports editor for my college newspaper. And we had a hockey team.”
“Really?” Sarcasm drips from his voice.
My defensive nature rises with the challenge. “Yes, really. And I enjoyed it. Except for the smell. No one enjoys that.”
He grunts again. “You’d be surprised.”
But then his smile slides into something more serious. Exactly what? I’m not sure because his chin is tucked, shielding his expression from me. “But you weren’t thrilled about being assigned to cover the Sun Kings.”
That earlier knot of emotion settles back into my chest as I recall our first conversation in the locker room, and a need to explain overwhelms me. Not to justify myself but because I care very much about what he thinks of me. I don’t know when that happened—maybe in Jacksonville when he commandeered my camera and took pictures of me.
I still haven’t uploaded the images to my computer and looked at them. I’m tempted to just delete them, but I’m also curious to see what he captured. When I’m behind the camera, it’s not just the imagery that guides me but the emotions the imagery evokes. I guess that’s what makes me afraid to see what he saw.
As if preparing to give my confession, I wipe my hands and mouth. “You’re right. I wasn’t at first. It felt like a step backward and away from what I really wanted.”
“Your own column?” His intense stare stops my inhale midway down to my lungs as if what I say next could either tip the scale in my favor or against.
“Yes. I have this vision of writing about romance in Sarabella.”
His confused expression borders on a sneer. “A dating column? ”
I shake my head. “No. More about the best places to plan a romantic dinner or take a sunset walk or propose marriage.” I rush into more of an explanation as my cheeks heat. “The idea started while helping my best friend plan her wedding. But now I’m realizing there’s so much more that this column can be.”
He’s not saying anything, so I stumble on.
“My original idea was to focus on romance in Sarabella. But now I see it more as Sarabella is the romance.” I feel the passion and parameters of my idea expanding as I speak it out loud and lift my hands to gesticulate. “Sarabella may be a small, albeit growing, beach town, but there’s so much more to it than just the gorgeous beaches and sunsets. There’s a creative and entrepreneurial spirit that’s erupting in quaint businesses, a growing movement in the arts, and now a hockey team that’s adding to an emerging sense of community.”
I stop to catch my breath, but the admiration in Luke’s expression snatches it away again. His Adam’s apple bobs with his effort to swallow before he tucks his chin. “We should get going before I’m too tired to drive us back.”
Something in me sinks. Does he think my idea’s ridiculous? I thought for sure he’d be pleased to hear how I consider the Sun Kings part of the romantic appeal in Sarabella. It certainly would go a long way in bringing up the team’s reputation.
Or does he still lump me in with those reporters who dig up dirt on anything and everyone just to gain notoriety?
Unfortunately, I can’t blame him. I finally had a chance to read the article Marty gave me, and it’s not pretty. The reporter glossed over his mother’s accident and revealed some very disparaging things about Luke’s father. Arrested and sent to prison for drug dealing not long after he walked out on his family—I did the math.
The gossip rag that broke the story is known for inflammatory reporting and gets sued regularly. I’m guessing that explains the short life of the piece, but obviously not before the damage was done to Luke and his sister. I can only imagine how exposed that made Luke and Kinsley feel.
I want to ask him more about it, but I won’t because he’ll think I’m just digging for a story, which is as far from the truth as the sun is from the moon. I’d never include anything about it in my profile on him or the team.
But in light of his confession about returning to hockey, I can’t help wondering about his decision to walk away from the sport he clearly loves and is extremely good at. Couldn’t he have figured out a way to keep playing?
Maybe Kinsley needed him more than he’s let on, but my instincts tell me his choice wasn’t just about his sister.