Chapter 2
Melody
Melody beamed as she dragged Eric—Cassidy to these guys—over to team captain Kevin Phillips. She waved at all the players she recognized along the way.
It had been a good day. A really good day.
She’d had a breakthrough with one of her patients and she was thrilled by their progress.
She liked to think she was an upbeat person, but she knew she was walking with even more pep than usual.
There was just something about helping her patients feel better that made her all the more ecstatic about the career she’d chosen.
It might have taken her seven years of intensive study to earn her doctor of physical therapy designation, but days like today made it all worthwhile.
Melody had been living in Chicago for just over a year now.
She’d originally planned to stay in New York after completing her program, but life had caused her to re-evaluate.
She’d had a few competitive job offers, but after being unceremoniously dumped by her boyfriend, New York had lost its luster and she’d been left with an overwhelming desire for a change of scenery.
It had felt like fate had stepped in when a short-term physical therapy position had come up with her dad’s team. The Challengers had needed someone to step in fast and she’d been available. Melody knew she’d gotten the temporary position on merit, but nepotism had opened the door.
Her aspirations didn’t include building a career as an athletic therapist, but she’d seen the opening for the golden opportunity it was and jumped on the chance.
And she hadn’t regretted it. It had been the perfect bridge to get her to Chicago where she’d found her dream job at The Winchester Retirement Residence.
“Hey, Mel,” Kevin greeted her. As was his habit, he opened his arms and pulled her into a big bear hug.
“Hey, Kev,” Melody returned as she stepped back from the hug. “How’s the knee feeling?”
“It feels amazing. You’re an absolute lifesaver. I can’t thank you enough for coming over and working on it over the weekend. It made a world of difference.”
Melody smiled at Kevin’s praise. Her contract with the Challengers may have ended a few months ago, but after forming bonds with the players—both personal and professional—she was happy to step in and lend a hand when she was able.
“Hey,” Eric interjected, moving a little closer to loop his arm around her shoulders. “What do you mean you went over to Phillips’ place and worked on his knee? You never help me with my injuries now that you’ve left the team.”
Melody couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she angled her chin to look up at him. “The reason I don’t help you with your so-called injuries anymore is because you were forever fabricating complaints in order to finagle a massage out of me.”
“What can I say?” Eric said as he gave her shoulders another gentle squeeze. “I miss you, Mel. You have such a big heart that I know you can’t turn down the opportunity to help a friend in need.”
Melody’s heart constricted. “You don’t have to pretend you’re injured in order to see me, you know.”
“I know,” Eric sighed. “That’s why I stopped trying to get you to treat phantom injuries—even though you really do give the best massages.”
Melody couldn’t help but smile at the compliment.
Eric’s lips quirked with a tinge of regret.
“I know you’d rather help rehab seniors than athletes, but I still wish you’d kept your job here.
It’s been hard going from seeing you most days to only seeing you every few weeks.
” His smile hitched. “There’s just something about you, Mel. You make everything better.”
“Eric . . .” Melody said, not sure how to fully express her feelings about what he’d just admitted.
Based on some of the things Eric had said to her over the year they’d known each other, anyone else might assume he was halfway in love with her, but she knew better.
It wasn’t personal. He was a great guy and an even better friend, but she sometimes thought charm had been written into his genetic code.
He was the type of person who would flirt with a lamppost if given the opportunity.
Eric would make some woman a fabulous partner one day, but he’d have to decide he was ready to settle down first. Given the way he’d been tomcatting around town, she didn’t see that happening any time soon.
Melody was grateful when Kevin spoke since it prevented her having to respond to Eric’s comment.
“Pam was sorry she didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to you before you left on Sunday,” he said, “but the girls have been resisting nap time lately.”
“Given that you have not one, or two, but three babies under one year of age, you can tell your wife that I more than understand her need to focus on the girls. I would have understood with one, but three? All I have to say is wow.”
Kevin’s expression visibly softened. “My Pam is a pretty incredible lady. I lucked out with all my girls.”
Melody felt her inner romantic release a dreamy sigh.
There was just something about a dedicated family man that never ceased to warm her from the inside out.
NHL players weren’t known for their fidelity or family values, but Kevin was evidence that faithful and devoted husbands did exist within their ranks.
“Speaking of that,” Kevin interrupted her thoughts, “the reason Pam wanted to talk to you is that she’s planning a night out with some friends and wanted to know if you might want to go with them.”
“Awww. That’s sweet. I would love to go. Thanks, Kev. I’ll get in touch with her.”
“I think she said something about a place called . . .” Kevin moved his eyes up and to the side in the way people do when they’re trying to remember something. Melody saw the light of recognition in his eyes before he completed his thought with “Cellars.” Kevin snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”
“Cellars!” Eric inserted himself into the conversation once again.
“What’s wrong with Cellars?” Melody wanted to know. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard great things about both the ambiance and the wine list.”
“No, no, no,” Eric grumbled.
Melody lifted a dubious eyebrow. “You’ll have to do better than that if you don’t think we should go there.”
“Okay. Okay,” Eric hedged. “Cellars has a nice atmosphere and a pretty great wine list. Killer cocktails.” Of course, Eric had been there, party boy that he was. “It just has a reputation for high-end hookups.”
Melody could feel her eyebrows lift in surprised amusement. “High-end hookups?” Surely, he didn’t mean what she thought he meant. “Of the Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman variety?”
“What? No!” Eric’s look of surprise was priceless. She wished she could snap a picture of his impressively contorted facial expression so she could tease him with it later.
“I’d like to pretend I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Eric grumbled, “but I have four sisters, so I definitely do.” He gave a mock shudder.
A relieved chuckle escaped her now that she knew she and Pam wouldn’t be enjoying cocktails amid illicit rendezvous. Which left her wondering. “In that case, what’s the problem?” she asked.
“I’m telling you,” Eric groused. “Cellars is a classy joint, but if you go, you’re going to be spending the night fighting off older men trying to buy you drinks and convince you to go out with them.”
Melody quirked a brow. “How much older is older?”
“I don’t know,” Eric supplied unhelpfully. “Older than you.”
Melody’s lips tipped up into a devilish smile when she remembered the establishment he’d stumbled into the other week. “Look here, Mr. Cougar Bars . . .”
Eric scowled. “I wonder what your father would have to say about this.”
Melody gasped. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was the only brother in a family full of sisters, but Eric took his protective instincts too far sometimes. “Don’t you dare bring my father into this!”
Eric smirked, believing he’d won his argument.
Oh, no, he didn’t. “What about that girl you met at the sports bar the other month? What would her father say?” She didn’t let him answer. “I’ll tell you what her father would say. He’d say—”
Melody stopped abruptly when she felt the presence of a warm male body behind her.
“He’d say he’s going to kill himself a crab.”
The deeply masculine voice caused chills to run up and down her spine. She shivered, and not from the cold.
A puff of air tickled the hair at the nape of her neck, suggesting the owner of the voice had taken a step closer. “I suspect that’s what her father might say.”
“Jesus, Logan!” Eric exclaimed as he turned around to address the man who had just spoken. “I don’t know what type of code you lived by in the City of Brotherly Love, but here in the Windy City, a guy doesn’t go implying that another guy might have crabs. Not cool, man. Not cool.”
Melody spun around to look at the man Eric had just reproved. She was sure his wide-eyed expression mirrored hers. They shared a look of amusement before they broke into simultaneous laugher.
“Seriously, what gives, Logan?” Eric griped. “First, you suggest I have crabs, and then you laugh about it?” He reflexively stroked the underside of his chin. “Despite whatever impression Mel might have given, I assure you the girl at the sports bar didn’t give me crabs.”
Her laughter had been starting to wind down, but that got her going again.
“Sorry, Cassidy,” Logan got out between chuckles.
“For someone with four sisters,” Melody explained once she’d gotten her laughter under control, “you sure didn’t catch a good Disney reference.”
That caught Eric’s attention. “What?”
Melody turned puzzled eyes his way. “Don’t you remember The Little Mermaid?
It’s what Sebastian the crab says to Flounder once they have swum Ariel up to the surface after she makes a deal with Ursula to turn her into a human for three days.
” She stared at him pointedly. “Sebastian is suggesting that King Triton is going to kill him for allowing his daughter to get roped into one of the sea witch’s schemes. ”
Melody glanced over at Logan. He wore a warm smile and a look that suggested he was impressed by her recall. She could feel her cheeks starting to warm as she took in the sight before her.
She prided herself on being an articulate woman, but in that moment, words failed her.
Logan—or Benjamin Logan, she imagined, based on the team’s roster—was quite possibly the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
She’d seen pictures, of course, but they didn’t do him justice.
He was a pro athlete, so it didn’t come as any surprise that he would be fit.
But there was fitness and then there was this.
Broad shoulders. Toned, well-muscled arms.
She wondered how much time he must have to spend in the gym to get such perfect washboard abs. Was that eight distinct portions of muscle she was seeing?
As a physical therapist, she knew an eight-pack was achievable, but they were so rare that it was easy to forget they were possible. Unless the genetic and lifestyle stars aligned, a six-pack was the best most people could hope for. Melody barely held back a groan as she resumed her inspection.
His sculpted abs tapered down into narrow hips. She was eager to see more, but a nice pair of fitted trousers prevented her appreciative gaze from taking a full inventory of his impressive attributes.
Melody’s face flamed when she realized what she was doing. Please, God. Don’t let him have noticed how closely I was checking him out. The man might be sexy as hell and dangerous to any girl’s equilibrium—clearly—but he wasn’t man meat.
Awareness rippled through her body as she lifted her eyes to meet his. Damn. If the questioning look in his expressive hazel eyes was any indication, he had definitely noticed her checking him out.
Oh, God. Mortification, thy name is Melody.
There was nothing for it. She squared her shoulders and marshaled her courage to introduce herself.