Chapter 60
TATE
“Colworth seems to be fitting in well,” I say to Miller in the restaurant in Toronto, where we’re having Luca Walker’s big-check dinner.
His actual dinner, with attendees other than Jordan and me.
For the tenth time this hour, my mind wanders to the power outage a few nights ago, how right it felt, having her in my home, hanging out with me and Bea. How sweet they are together. How relaxed I am around her.
Too relaxed. I came in my pants like a fucking teenager, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never lost control like that in my life, but something about Jordan Hathaway does that to me. No wonder she hightailed it out of there so fast.
I sent something to her office this morning. Did she see it? Did she open it?
Would she wear it?
“How’s Hazel doing?” I ask him, pulling my attention back to the restaurant. “She’s, what, five months along?”
She’s on the other side of the room with Pippa.
Miller nods, eyes on her, expression softening. “Yep. She’s feeling great. We’re through the nausea and her being tired all the time. And she’s looking so cute with her baby bump.”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Excited?”
Miller grins. “Of course. Terrified, but excited.”
I chuckle. “That’s normal.”
“I’m mostly excited to meet the baby. See what he’s like.”
“He?” My eyebrows go up.
Miller nods, pride shining in his eyes. “It’s a boy.”
My throat tightens with emotion. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter, and I know it wouldn’t matter to Rory and Hazel, either, but the second you find out the sex of the baby, it changes things. They become more real. It’s an important moment.
“Streicher’s going to help me paint the baby’s room this weekend,” Rory says. “I know we could hire someone, but I want to do it. It feels like a dad thing to do.”
Jordan walks in and my thoughts stop.
Miller’s still talking but I’m only half-listening, eyes locked on her in that slim-fitting navy velvet dress, with her hair up the way I like it, looking like the best dream I’ve ever had.
There’s something about the rich, inky velvet of her dress that makes her skin glow, makes the alluring color of her eyes stand out.
Makes her hair look a deeper shade of chestnut.
Something around the base of her neck glints in the low restaurant lighting, and a sharp surge of pride fills my chest. I stand a little taller, shoulders back and a pleased smile pulling at my mouth.
She looks good in the necklace I bought her.
A moment later, Georgia, Volkov, and Jordan have joined us.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Georgia beams at us.
Behind her, her husband gives us a serious nod hello, wearing a sharp suit. Jordan and I meet eyes and she looks away, keeping her expression neutral.
What we did was wrong. I have a daughter, and can’t get involved with a woman who isn’t all in. Beyond that, a rumor could hurt both our careers. It could hurt the team’s image.
And yet, I want to do it again. I want to go so much further. I want to make Jordan come and make her trust me and keep her in my bed forever.
“You look beautiful,” I manage while the others talk, distracted.
“Thanks,” she says quietly, not looking at me. A wash of pink blooms over her cheeks. “You look good, too.”
My gaze lingers on her face, tracing the curve of her cheekbone, the swell of her lips, the sweep of her jawline down to her chin.
“Is that a hickey?” Walker asks, and we both startle. His eyes are on Jordan’s neck and his grin is ear-to-ear. I didn’t even notice him join the group.
“What? No.” Jordan’s eyes go wide and her hand flies to her neck—in the exact spot that I had my mouth all over a few nights ago. Her eyes meet mine before she jerks her gaze away, fast.
More of that hot, sharp pride pounds through me. I left my mark on her. I shouldn’t like it so much.
“Oh my god, it is.” Walker dips down, peering closer, and she swats him away. “That’s totally a hickey, J-dawg. Nice work.” He lifts a hand for a high five. “Up top.”
A laugh slips out of me that I turn into a cough, looking away, but I can’t wipe the stupid, smug smile from my face. Is it wrong to feel relief that the others can see she’s taken?
“Who’s the lucky lover?” Walker asks, and Jordan’s face goes an adorable shade of mortified as her eyes flick to mine and then away again.
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” she mutters, and hurries off.
My eyes stay fastened to her retreating form in that dress.
Georgia takes one look at me and loops her arm through Walker’s, tilting her head at the bar. “Come on, Rookie. Let’s go get you a big-boy drink.”
“I’m a man,” Walker tells her. “I’m going to get a man drink. Like Volkov.”
Volkov snorts.
“Sure, honey.” Georgia nods with playful indulgence. “We’ll get you a man drink.”
She leads him away, and my eyes return to the hallway where Jordan disappeared.
I shouldn’t follow her. There’s no reason to.
I want to, though. I want to take a closer look at my handiwork. Run my finger over it to see if she’d shiver.
“So,” Miller says with a shit-eating grin that makes me want to smile, too. “The fake dinner wasn’t a bust. You two are together.”
“We’re not together.” I can’t take my eyes off her, though, and my desire is obvious.
“Why not?” Volkov asks, impatient.
I should tell him it’s inappropriate to gossip about Jordan’s personal life.
They wouldn’t gossip, though. They love Jordan. They’d protect her. I haven’t seen a word of this in the media. The team would keep her safe from scandal.
I think about what Jordan said at that little Italian place. Asking if I had peers.
Volkov was my player on the Storm, but before that, we were in the league together. We were peers, and now we work together. I trust him and his expertise. I can’t foresee a situation where I’d have to pull rank on him.
And Miller, well. I have plans for Rory Miller. He won’t be in the league forever.
“It’s complicated,” I admit.
Miller sighs, eyes finding Hazel. “It’s always complicated. But,” he perks up, “hopefully you scoop her up before someone else does.”
What? Alarm rockets through me. The same feeling as when Yang-Hanson asked about her.
“Oh, look.” Miller nudges his chin across the room. “Owens and Darcy are here. I’m going to go say hi.”
“I’ll come with you,” Volkov mutters, and follows him, leaving me standing there.