1. Vaughn #2
She holds her finger up. “Wrong. I talked to everyone except any hockey player who doesn’t play on the Spinners and happens to be single, and my deep study of the guest list and table arrangements meant there were four men who fell into that category.
Those are the ones I didn’t get to talk to, including you, Vaughn Madden. ”
“Ouch. Unlucky for them, good news for me.” We both glance out across the lake and seem to find a peaceful moment.
“I’ve only been here a few times. I volunteered once at the summer camp and partook in a developmental skills camp.
But that was a few years ago. A shame my trip is short this time around. ”
“Probably for the best. Winter is fast approaching.”
My face turns puzzled. “It’s only early September.”
A deep rumble of a laugh escapes her lips. “It’s Illinois, it could be flurries of snow or beach weather come October. We are not graced with Florida weather.”
“Are you ever in Florida?” I’m a winger, which means being forward is natural.
She laughs, and it vibrates down my spine again and my attraction spikes. “Funny you should ask. I’m actually going down to Tampa in November for a conference.” That’s my city, and this must be a sign.
“November is a good time. You can escape the temperatures beginning to change here, in exchange for warm weather down there. The chance for hurricanes is not very likely either.”
Isla doesn’t say anything, instead keeping her wry smile as she studies me.
“A shame we weren’t sitting at the same table last night so you could give me some tips on places to go to, as I’m staying a few extra days, but there was a clear instruction for the seating chart that you and my brother were not to be at the same table. ”
“You seem to have a different view of me than your brother,” I point out.
“It takes a lot for me to dislike someone. You haven’t given me any reason, because I know what happens on the ice is all part of a game,” she explains.
“Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand, curling my fingers, indicating that she should hand it over.
Isla winces. “Sorry, I left it inside.”
I dig into my pocket to grab my cell to type in her number, but we are interrupted by the sound of cheers, as it seems Connor and Hadley have arrived.
“That’s our cue to head back in and discover if the smoked cheese is better than the Swiss in the cheese section. Besides… I might have forgotten my number.” Isla smirks before she begins to step away, and instantly I reach out to touch her elbow and stop her.
For a moment, her gaze flicks up and I can’t form words. But then it spits out. “When you’re down in Florida, we should try and meet up.”
Isla chortles and her jaw moves side to side. “Not a good idea.”
“Why? Don’t trust yourself around me?” I wonder.
“Something like that.”
She leaves my grasp, but I’m still drawn to her like a magnet, even when she strides away. Isla’s right, she shouldn’t trust herself around me. I’m the guy who isn’t searching for much except gratification that hopefully involves her dress on the floor and good conversation.
By the time I follow her back inside, Isla’s vanished into the room of people. It’s a solid half-hour later when Connor is talking to me that I spot Isla again.
“It really means a lot that you came out for the wedding.” Connor hands me a new champagne flute.
“No problem. A bit smug, though, don’t you think? I sent a wedding present after your Vegas nuptials, and now I need to do it all over again because you decided to remember it this time?” I smirk at him.
He smiles. “Give a donation to charity instead and you’ll get over it. You shouldn’t be sending me any gifts at all, considering in a few weeks when the season starts, I’m going to conquer you on the ice when we eventually have a game together on the roster.”
My brows pinch together. “Wishful thinking, buddy.”
His response is to chuckle then pat my shoulder before heading to the next guest. I inspect my watch and realize I should be heading out of here to make my flight.
However, my feet don’t move when I catch sight of Isla holding a small plate of food, and she approaches me with caution, probably searching for her brother.
“The Swiss cheese is the winner, and did you remember your number yet?” I tell her, and her gorgeous lips are getting harassed by her tongue swiping to the corner of her mouth.
“Really having memory problems today. Who are you again?" She's teasing me, and I laugh at her humor. "And duly noted about the cheese. Have a safe flight, Vaughn.” Is that a sultry look she’s giving me? It’s a fine way to end the morning.
A shame I don’t get more. It’s okay, though, there is always next time. I’m an athlete for a reason; I’m determined to win.
Early November
Well, this is just not what I planned.
Not by what’s about to go down, but by the fact our home game has been postponed and rescheduled for later in the season due to a late-season hurricane that’s approaching.
However, this situation also means I got lucky. Really lucky.
My thumb traces the text message on the screen.
Connor
Saw the game highlights. You holding up with the hurricane approaching? Hadley is losing her cool because her best friend is down there for a conference and didn’t get a flight back. Tell me something that can calm my wife down?
Me
The hurricane? Yeah, well, it’s only a category one. People were buying hurricane cakes at the grocery store earlier. Hadley’s friend will be okay. Most hotels are prepared for this, or maybe she’s somewhere out of the flood zone. Do you know which hotel?
Connor
I think Isla is staying at the Pelican Blue. I’ll tell Hadley to relax. Good luck!
I smirk to myself, because my buddy casually mentioning the intel on Isla was exactly what I needed to perk up my current state that landed me in this hotel a few hours later.
He may have been thinking about the maid of honor’s safety, but in reality, he unknowingly handed me the information I needed to get me here, sitting with a bottle of beer in hand, waiting for the prize that I wanted to claim already weeks ago.
Normally, I don't really drink much during the season, but a beer is perfectly fine right now. I focus on my drink, yet I feel her sit down at the bar, unaware of my presence.
The gripe that escapes her lips is my undoing, I swear.
“Dry white, please. Of course, this is my life. The one time I decide to mix work with a few vacation days in the sun, a hurricane decides to trap me in a hotel,” she grumbles to the barman.
I bite my lip, as I’m entertained while I listen to her complain. I wasn’t lying to Connor, this hotel is hurricane-proof, has a great generator, and a hurricane doesn’t seem to faze the staff either. We’re safe.
Is Isla safe from me? Not so much.
Rotating on my barstool, I face her, and she’s sporting hot-as-hell yoga pants and a cute sweatshirt.
“It could be worse. You could be trapped in a hotel with me, because we just didn’t get enough time during our last stint.”
Her eyes whip to me and shock hits her that I’m sitting in front of her, before her lips curl into a smirk that spells trouble for the both of us.