Lennox (Glacier Hockey #2)

Chapter One

Meredith Fasselli crosses her long tan legs, making her creamy peach skirt ride up an inch or two.

Yeah, you bet I look. The skirt is already pretty damn short, so there’s some serious thigh action going on now.

Hey, it’s all good.

I fully appreciate a woman with a hot body.

And Meredith, a well-known local sports reporter who is about to interview me for an autumn feature in Phoenix Sports Now magazine, is smokin’.

We’re currently in an empty conference room at the Glacier Dome complex, where my team, the Phoenix Bears, play professional hockey.

Since we’ve already settled into tall chairs that someone working with the team must’ve set up for us earlier, and we’ve gotten our introductions out of the way, I expect the questions to start any second now.

Sure enough, Meredith clears her throat, shuffles her stack of papers around, then asks, “Training camp ends in a few days, correct, Mr. Foley?”

I wave my hand. “Just call me Lennox.”

I thought we’d gotten this out of the way during introductions, but I guess not.

She shoots me a sly smile. “Okay, Lennox.”

This one—she’s already playing games.

She’s feisty all right, but I like it.

Shaking my head and chuckling, I confirm, “Yes, training camp wraps up later this week.”

“And it’s been going well so far?” she questions, one dark eyebrow arching in a challenging sort of way.

This chick is too much.

She’s definitely flirting.

Not to brag, but this is my life. Women are always throwing themselves at me. I guess it’s because I’m a good-looking guy. I’ve been told that my jet-black hair and deep brown eyes give me a bad-boy, roguish appearance that’s irresistible.

Oh well, whatever.

Nodding once, I reply, “Yes, training camp has been going great. We are more than ready to start the regular season. In fact, we’re looking forward to it.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Meredith jots down something in the notes she has on her lap, and then she goes on.

“I hear the newest team member, Easton Sonden, has been practicing with you and Shane Thoma up on the first line. How is that going, and do you expect the current line-ups will remain the same when the real games start?”

“I absolutely do,” I tell her, because it’s true. “It’s like Shane, Easton, and I been playing together for years, not weeks. I guess you could say we have what they call ‘amazing chemistry’ already.”

Her dark eyes meet mine as she says suggestively, “Hmmm, there’s nothing like good chemistry. Would you agree?”

Oh boy.

“That’s for sure,” I volley back in a low, raspy tone as I lower my chin and hold her gaze.

Damn, it just got very hot in here, even though the air-conditioning is on full blast.

She sighs.

I sigh.

Her eyes returning to her notes, she taps her pen to her full lips and says, “I have here that you’ve been centering that top line ever since you joined the Bears in their first expansion year, which, of course, was only just last season. Is that right?”

I blow out a breath. “Yes, that’s correct.”

Still poring over her papers, which I sense she’s doing to allow things to cool down in here, she asks, “And before that you played in Chicago, correct?”

“I did.”

“For the Blackhawks?”

“Yes.”

“During your time there, you centered their, uh, let me see…” She browses her notes once again and then, eyes still focused downward, says, “Second line, yes?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She finally looks up and over at me. “Well, I’d say coming to Phoenix to play for the Bears has certainly turned out to be a fortuitous opportunity.

Not only are you firmly entrenched on the top line, where you put up some impressive stats last season, but you’re also the captain of the team.

” Flashing me another flirtatious smile, she adds, “That’s quite impressive, Lennox. ”

I bow my head humbly. “Thank you,” I say. “But this is just the beginning. We want to make the playoffs this year. And hell, if we work hard and play hard, we could even be hoisting the Stanley Cup in June.”

Laughing, she says, “I can see why you’re the captain. You certainly believe in your team.”

“I do,” I state emphatically. “We’re a good, solid bunch, and I think a lot of people will see that this year.”

We talk a little bit about my personal goals for the season, which really all share the same theme—give it my all and do my very best—and then we reach the end of the interview.

The room goes quiet, and Meredith sighs heavily.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s just…” She sighs again. “Can I ask you an off-the-record question?”

I’m filled with a little trepidation but still say, “Yeah, sure.”

Meredith leans back, holding her pack of notes tightly to her, like a shield or something.

Shit, what’s her question?

How bad could it be?

At last, she says, “All this potential for success, both with the Bears and personally, yet there’s no one special in your life to share these achievements with. No wife, no serious girlfriend—so I’ve heard, anyway. Is that true, Lennox?”

Ahhh, this is her question, not one she’s been told to ask. She wants to know if I’m unattached. That’s why this one is “off-the-record.”

Chuckling knowingly, as I see where this is going, I say, “I have no problem answering that, Meredith.” My eyes meet hers, holding them as I go on.

“I’m fully unattached, and I have to say I like it that way.

I’m not into commitment in my personal life, only with hockey.

Anyway, I like having options. My motto is ‘Let’s just have some fun and keep things casual. ’”

Licking her lips and never looking away, she says, “Isn’t that funny? My motto is pretty much the same.”

I raise a brow. “Oh, it is, is it?”

“It definitely is,” she declares emphatically.

“In fact…” She flips open her cell phone case and takes out a business card.

After jotting something down on the back of it, she hands it over to me and says, “If you think of anything you’d like to add to the article, my business number is on the front.

But, Lennox…” Our gazes meet once more, and this time the heat is scorching.

“If you want to tell me more about your motto, and maybe even show me exactly what that means, call my personal cell number on the back.”

Fuck.

I pocket the card, thinking maybe I’ll call.

Or then again, perhaps I won’t.

Because yes, I like to have fun, but the other thing I mentioned also holds true—it’s all about having options.

And I don’t plan to change anytime soon.