Chapter 33
The next afternoon at the game, while Marlie and Damon sat in the team’s suite with veteran players’ family members, the owner’s cousins, and a few pumped up shareholders, giddy at meeting Demon Sinclair, Marlie did her best not to freak out at the fancy catered food and drink.
Not one hot dog or slice of greasy pizza in sight.
The Portland Ice Raptors were playing the Edmonton Oilers, and she stared out at the packed stadium.
People cheered while a Raptor slammed an Oiler into the boards.
Damon had let her know that he’d have gotten them killer seats in the “lower bowl” if he hadn’t wanted to impress her with a fancy view from above where they wouldn’t be mobbed by people.
With his size and looks, he was too easily recognized in his home arena, and he wanted to spend time with her and not the fans. She liked that he appreciated those who came to see him and his team. Damon was dedicated to the people who rooted for him, for sure.
She sipped a beer and watched the play while Damon schmoozed with two older guys worshipping the ground he walked on.
Around two dozen people had gathered in the suite set with tables layered with platters of food, a bar, behind which a bartender served orders, and a long table with bar chairs overlooking the stadium.
The suite allowed for plenty of seating and space to entertain.
Damon seemed by far the most popular of the occupants, though many seemed to give deference to a few of the older couples in attendance.
Everyone dressed in designer jeans and expensive sweaters, several of the woman wearing jewelry worth more than her car.
And then there was Marlie. And Damon, actually.
They both had on normal jeans and the Ice Raptor sweatshirts Damon had insisted they wear to the game.
She didn’t mind as the thing was soft inside.
Then she’d seen a similar sweatshirt downstairs for sale for nearly eighty bucks.
When in Hope’s Turn, Damon seemed normal enough. Well, as normal as life could be for a giant with resting murder face. But here in Portland, where he belonged, he lived near professional basketball players—a Trailblazer!—and hung out with people who congregated in owner boxes in the Moda Center.
He’d even introduced her to several of his teammates before the guys ducked into the locker room to change. She recognized a few from some tabloids and others from major sponsorships with alcohol and sports labels.
Though normally a confident person, she felt a bit out of her depth with the wealth all around him.
Not to mention Damon’s condo had to be worth a few million, at least. To add to that, he didn’t seem to find it odd that people looked at him with awe and, at times, fear. The guy was at home with fame.
The only thing that reassured her was that he acted the same way here that he did back at home.
The same down-to-earth though arrogant-about-his-hockey-skills guy who bitched about his family and rescued kittens.
Who’d threatened to beat up an obnoxious sports dad while rubbing her feet while she graded papers.
Just remembering how kind he’d been to her had her softening all over again, as she did whenever she thought too hard about how she might be falling for the big doofus.
Oh, fuck. Who was she kidding? She had a bad feeling she’d already fallen in love with the Ice Raptor’s own Demon Sinclair.
And seeing him here, surrounded by his reality, showed her just how out of her league he was.
So stupid to feel so much for a virtual stranger.
They hadn’t known each other all that long.
How could she feel so deeply for a man she’d recently met? She’d dated Ben for nearly nine months.
Yeah, and how did that turn out for you?
“Hello? Earth to Marlie.” Damon tapped her on the shoulder. “Did you see that play? Colby needs to get more aggressive.” He downed his beer and sat next to her at the bar table overlooking the stadium.
She noticed him straightening out his knee and working the joint while he focused on the ice.
“Hey, I meant to ask. I thought the games usually played at night.”
“They do.” He explained, “But we have more afternoon games on weekends to get the European crowd’s interest, I guess.
Not my call, obviously. I just go where they tell me to go.
” He glanced behind him and in a lower voice added, “The short guy with the bad combover? That’s Leroy, the owner’s favorite cousin.
His kid plays in the Rose City Hockey Club, an ice hockey club for girls.
He wants me to swing by once I’m recovered to visit and check out their goalie camp. ”
“Will you?”
“I know this chick who coaches girls’ sports, and she’s pretty cool. So for her, I’d do it.”
“Girls are awesome.” She smiled at him, knowing he’d help out, not because of her, but because he didn’t see girls as less than boys. Damon liked athletes. Period.
“Plus, I love anyone who likes hockey. Why wouldn’t I help out? And I like Leroy. Unlike some of the rich pricks in here, he’s genuine.”
She scoffed. “You’re one of those rich pricks, you know.”
“Me? I just have some money. Doesn’t make me one of them.”
“Them?”
“I grew up normal. I have normal friends—not counting the morons on the ice—and family who keep me grounded. A lot of the people in here have no idea that you can’t buy everything you want.”
She studied him and heard his sincerity. “What do you do with all your money?” They hadn’t yet talked about that. Would he be weird about it? “Besides spending it on that killer condo with a view.”
“I invest, give to charities.” He shrugged. “I try to keep it quiet because people can be greedy, and I only help real places needing it.”
“Like?”
He squirmed.
“Tell me.”
“Well, there are a lot of homeless in the city, you know. And kids. I’m a sucker for kids who want to play sports, and, you know, eat, and can’t afford it.”
She fell harder for the big guy because he kept glaring, as if daring her comment on his generosity.
“Not bad.” She changed the subject, letting him off the hook. “I will admit to being impressed by your condo. I like it. The views are amazing.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what about my amazing truck? You never told me how awesome it is.” He seemed offended she’d ignored that one. “It’s like a modern-day chariot, am I right?”
She smirked. “Amazing? Please. Will’s work truck has more horsepower than that thing you drive.”
“Sacrilege.” He blinked in shock and put a hand over his heart. “Take that back.”
“No.”
“Fine. Then walk home,” he growled, yet she saw the twinkle in his eyes.
He loved arguing as much as she did. “Maybe I will.”
He leaned closer and kissed her on the nose.
“Nah. You can’t. I need to protect you from the crazies in this city.
Did you not see half the guys making eyes at you earlier?
You give them an inch, they’ll run a mile over and through you.
Don’t trust any of them. Maybe Colby. But only because he’s more afraid of me than he is not getting laid. ”
“Nice mouth, Demon.”
Damon and Marlie looked behind them to see an older man approach with a smile. He wore jeans, a gray cashmere sweater, and a Raptor’s scarf and managed to make the ensemble fashionable.
“Hey, Hal.”
When Damon moved to get up, the older man waved him back down. “No, no. Rest that leg. You’re still injured.”
“I’m healing fast.”
“But you’re not all healed yet,” Marlie reminded him, ignoring his scowl. “So keep your ass in your seat.”
The older man laughed and held out a hand, sitting on the other side of her on the stool. “Name’s Hal.”
“Marlie. Nice to meet you.” Hal seemed nice, and he had to be important to be in the team suite. “So who did you schmooze to be here?”
Hal grinned. “Let’s just say I know the right people.”
“Me too. Although I don’t know if ‘right’ is the best description for this fella.” She nodded to Damon, who glared at her. Amused, she continued, “In fact, my mother was close to arresting him.”
“Oh, she was not.”
Hal blinked. “Really?”
“No,” Damon growled. “Her mother’s the sheriff and pretty protective. Why, I’ll never know. Marlie’s meaner than I am.”
“Please. You’re a lightweight,” another man said, sitting on Damon’s other side. “Hi. I’m Mark.”
“My agent.” Damon sighed.
“Compared to the screwy talent on this team, Damon Sinclair is an angel.”
Hal nodded “Best keep it that way. Though it seems Marlie won’t let you stray too far.”
“Not with her big foot up my ass,” Damon grumbled.
Marlie burst out laughing, as did Hal.
Mark looked intrigued. “Are you two dating?”
“Maybe.”
“Yes,” Damon countered. “We’re getting married soon, or so her mother threatened me with her shotgun. Pretty wild out there in Hope’s Turn, Oregon.”
Marlie flushed. “For the record, my mother hasn’t shot anyone in… Well, since May.”
“Seriously?” Damon’s eyes widened.
So did Mark. “Did she shoot at Damon or not? Because I can work with that.”
Marlie glared at Damon and said, “My mother is the sheriff of our hometown. She’s great at her job. She doesn’t shoot people for the fun of it.” The look she shot Damon warned him to zip it. “Though I wouldn’t give me a gun anytime soon. Or someone might lose his other knee real fast.”
Hal chuckled. “Are you sure you’re not married already? You sound like my wife when I say something stupid.”
Damon grinned at Marlie, though she didn’t know why he seemed so pleased with her mouth that constantly ran away from her, and nodded. “A guy could only be so lucky to be married to Mad Marlie.”
“Would you stop spreading that stupid nickname?”
Hal laughed. “I like it.” Before he could add to that, a younger man came for him and whispered something. “Shoot. I need to get down there. Damon, I need you as well.”
Damon looked at Marlie.
“Go ahead. I’ll sit here with Mark, and we’ll talk about you.”
That seemed to worry him.
She laughed. “Go be yourself, Demon. I’ll be good.”
He narrowed his eyes in warning, then turned and followed Hal out the door.
“What’s that about?” she asked Mark, who grinned.
“Oh, that’s just the Ice Raptors’ owner forcing your boyfriend to greet the stadium with him. Now tell me all about how you met Damon. And don’t leave anything out. Especially not any shootings, fights, or orgies.”
Marlie blinked. The Ice Raptors’ owner? Fights? “Hold on. Did you say orgies?”