Chapter 15—Wolfe
Wolfe entered the darkened restaurant, pausing to peruse the room until he spied the table where his teammates were sitting.
“Gentlemen,” Wolfe greeted his fellow Crush players as he made his way to their location. “And, of course, you, beautiful bambina.”
Mia jumped up from her chair and bound her way around the table to give Wolfe a giant hug, which he savored more than his not-by-blood sister could ever know.
“Hellooo, Uncle Wolfe.”
“Hi, little one,” Wolfe slung his arm around her shoulders and scanned the table. “Where’s the rook?”
“Not coming,” Dante muttered, dipping a soft pretzel into a ramekin of mustard. “Not sure where he is tonight.”
A look of disappointment crossed Mia’s face, which confirmed Wolfe’s suspicion that there was far more going on between the squirt and the rookie than either one of them wanted to confess.
“I’ll be right back,” Mia declared and headed to the door, trying to hide her sadness.
Wolfe filed away that little nugget and sat down at the table.
A perky server came to take his drink order and to deliver another batch of appetizers for the hungry men ready to eat along with their chirping.
“Jax, you’ve been MIA from practice in the last week,” Dante leveled a captain-like stare at the winger. “You will be there tomorrow.”
Dante didn’t wait for a reply. He simply took a sip of his red wine. Wolfe assumed chianti filled the glass, just as he understood the moody winger would get his ass to the rink the next day. Afterall, the Captain had spoken.
“Some of us have shit to do, Dante,” he challenged, swiping his overgrown bangs away from his face. “But yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“We’re all committed to winning the Cup, Jax. No alternative,” Dante emphasized his point and twisted the stem of the wineglass in his hand.
“I hear you loud and clear, Cap,” Jax said tightly.
Obviously, something percolated beneath the surface.
Wolfe had no doubt he’d find out. He always did.
Wolfe made it his business to learn everything he could behind the scenes.
He may only have an A on his sweater, but by understanding the landscape of the personalities and stories of his teammates, he made Dante’s job as the leader of the team inherently easier.
“Look who’s here, guys,” Mia approached the table, the sadness that swept across her face upon learning Matt wasn’t at the dinner completely gone and replaced by sheer joy. “It’s my boss, but more like a friend, Aspen.”
Wolfe’s steely gaze whipped around to meet Aspen’s face. If he read her correctly, she expressed shock at stumbling across a table of hungry hockey players.
“Hi,” she said weakly.
Mia, however, was just as bubbly as ever.
“Aspen, you know my brother Dante and, of course, Wolfe. This fella here is goalie Anton Sokolov and their teammate Jax Thurmond.”
“Hi,” Aspen echoed her previous greeting with the same gusty, overwhelmed tone.
“Hey, Aspen. So nice you could join us tonight,” Dante stood to greet Mia’s boss.
She could barely avert her gaze from Wolfe to respond to Dante, which was just fine considering Wolfe couldn’t break his connection with her either.
“Yeah, thanks. It’s nice to be here,” she uttered, fumbling with the handle of the small purse she held in a death grip in her hands. “I, uh...Mia said this was a girls’ night out.”
Mia laughed, causing Aspen’s cheeks to redden as deep as tomatoes on the vine in August.
“Did I say that?” Mia batted her long lashes innocently.
Wolfe would like to call Mia a brat for her obvious deception, but having Aspen magically appear as if she instantly exited from the X-rated reel playing in his mind was a gift.
In fact, her appearance allowed Wolfe to implement his plan to steer Aspen in the direction he was certain they both were traveling.
And by that, Wolfe meant the moment Aspen’s lithe body fit snuggly beneath him and he drove his cock deep inside her heat.
“Yeah, you did,” Aspen replied to Mia with a suspicious tone. “You distinctly said girls’ night out.”
“Well, I’m definitely not a girl,” Wolfe chimed in before Mia could respond.
“You play like one,” Anton teased from across the table.
“Fuck you, Russian. You couldn’t stop a puck even if an elephant sat between the pipes in front of you,” Wolfe retorted and chucked the cloth napkin he’d been holding across the table at the goalie who swatted it away.
“I can stop every one of your weak-ass shots, Wolfe,” Anton challenged in typical goalie cockiness.
“Let’s see about that when I kick your ass harder than those little red rubber balls kids use for kickball on the playground.”
“Hey,” Aspen instantly lost her uncertainty and playfully smacked Wolfe’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “No red jokes.”
Wolfe reached out and glided his hand over her flaming tresses before dropping his arm back to his side. “Sorry BB, I can’t let the Russian think he has any chance in hell of stopping all this.”
Wolfe tugged up his shoulder, silently saying ‘no one would best him’ in any situation. Ever.
“Anywhoooo,” Dante drawled, interrupting the exchange. “Have a seat, Aspen. We’re just getting ready to order grub.”
“Grub, brother? Really?” Mia chided.
“What?” he asked, incredulously.
As the sibling’s sparred, Wolfe took the opportunity to place his hand at the small of Aspen’s back and directed her to the chair next to him for the meal. Another boon of the evening featured the fact that the restaurant was dark and the tablecloth long.
Wolfe would definitely use this opportunity to his advantage.
Once he guided her chair forward, Wolfe took his own seat, making sure to brush his shoulder against her bared arm, then slowly skimmed the back of his hand down her thigh tucked beneath the tablecloth.
He immediately felt goosebumps skitter across her skin in the wake of the stroking of his fingers.
Aspen shot Wolfe a glare, complete with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, that screamed ‘what in the hell are you doing?’
As the evening progressed, the group easily transitioned to several different conversation threads. Some discussed training camp plans while others speculated on who the Crush expected to sign in free agency in the coming weeks.
The group enjoyed a fantastic meal. While Wolfe devoured his seared porterhouse steak and greens, he easily multitasked and frequently rubbed his jean-covered leg against BB’s own bared skin. He also took the opportunity to stroke her back while leaning across her to fill her empty water glass.
Aspen shifted in her chair, and even tugged the hair on his forearm under the table at one point.
But as the evening continued, and Wolfe’s fingers danced across her skin like the perfect tango, she eased into his touch.
Eventually her glare became streaked with desire, her green eyes becoming more luminous as the evening proceeded.
Mia was none the wiser, and when she received a call on her cell, she left her seat so she could hear over the din of conversation at the table and in the restaurant.
Aspen turned in her chair to face Wolfe. She then plastered a smile on her face as to not tip any of Wolfe’s teammates who were all engaged in conversations. “What are you doing?”
Hopefully, you. “Just enjoying your company, BB.”
“Someone’s going to see you trying to feel me up under the table.”
“No, they won’t.”
To prove his point, he ever so slowly slid his palm across her thigh to the hem of the little denim dress he hoped he’d have the pleasure of removing a little later.
“Wolfe—”
“—So, the squirt told me you created a cupcake after her. Was that the one you were talking about at dinner the other night?”
His fingers danced higher on her leg, while Aspen’s breaths became labored. As he inched ever closer to her panties, Wolfe could feel her heat. He knew she was wet.
To everyone at the table Wolfe conversed with Aspen, but in reality he focused on teasing and tempting the sweet woman he planned to fuck in the very near future.
“Um, yes, it’s, um an Italian-themed cupcake inspired by, uh, the tube things,” Aspen sputtered. “You know the shell thingy that holds the, um, the cheese.”
To emphasize her point, she cupped her hand as if she was holding an imaginary cannoli shell, flicking her wrist to demonstrate what the item was.
Except it looked like she was clutching an imaginary cock and stroked it, prompting a number of conversations to pause around the table to watch her giving an invisible hand job.
Wolfe paused his own hand between her legs as he watched the eyes of his teammates trained on BB and her erotic wrist action.
“Cannoli, BB,” Wolfe reached across the table with his other hand and stilled her rapid-motion air stroking. “A cannoli shell are the words you’re trying to find.”
Wolfe’s teammates burst out laughing.
Recognition of her actions registered on her face in the form of an instantaneous blush.
Aspen tore her hand away from Wolfe’s and covered her face. “I’m such an idiot.”
Wolfe reluctantly moved his hand away from her legs.
It was one thing for him to tease the boss baker, but something totally different for his teammates to laugh at her expense.
“Knock it off, dickheads,” Wolfe rested his arm across Aspen’s back and splayed his palm between her narrow shoulders. He didn’t care who saw. “You wouldn’t be able to find your words either if you were up at the ass-crack of dawn baking a bazillion cupcakes every day.”
“It’s okay, Connor,” Aspen turned to him and rested a hand on his forearm.
“No, it’s not. They shouldn’t be teasing you like that.”
“We tease everyone, Wolfe,” Jax jibed.
“Not BB,” Wolfe sneered at his teammates. “Not tonight.”
Mia found her way back to the table at that moment, tucking her cell phone in her back pocket. Her smile dropped at the silence that greeted her.
“What’d I miss?”
“The very gallant Sir Connor Wolfe cameth to the rescue of Lady Aspen following the jests of the other Knights of the Roundtable,” Dante teased, his voice taking on a horrible Old English accent.
A chorus of ‘c’mon, old man’ and other barbs showered Dante and instantly diffused Wolfe’s mad.
“You didn’t miss anything, Mia,” Aspen giggled at the exchange. “I was my normal, idiot-self and embarrassed myself halfway to the pyramids. Connor here stepped up to defend my honor.”
“I miss everything good,” Mia chuckled and took her seat.
After another round of drinks and dessert, of course, because Aspen had to try the Banana’s Foster, the check was delivered to the table.
Aspen reached for her purse when Wolfe stilled her hand.
“Pay up, Dante,” Jax called out and neatly folded his napkin on the table.
“Yes, you owe,” Anton added.
“I know, I know,” Dante groused. “In my defense, I didn’t shave my beard before game seven. I simply trimmed it.”
“You messed with the mojo, Cap,” Jax barked out and shook his head in disgust. “Who in the hell messes with a playoff beard? Why would you do that?”
“I can’t expect you to pay for my meal, Dante,” Aspen argued, not understanding the concept of a playoff beard.
“You can and you will,” Dante said seriously, all sense of the easy-go-lucky-dad-guy gone. “You are our guest tonight and a bet is a bet.”
“Oh, well, thank you, Dante. Come by the shop for coffee and a muffin soon.”
“That’s a deal,” Dante placed his Amex Black in the check sleeve and set it aside.
“Mia, I need to call it a night,” Aspen said on a yawn, sliding her chair out from the table. “Thank you all for a lovely evening. It was nice meeting you. Stop by the bakery any time, all of you.”
After other exchanges of farewell, Wolfe stood as well and offered a few goodbyes, and followed Aspen out of the restaurant.
He didn’t miss Mia’s smile that was so big she resembled the proverbial Cheshire Cat.
Once they were outside and away from the entrance of the restaurant, Aspen wheeled around and plunked her hand on her narrow waist.
“And just what in the hell was that about in there, Connor?”
“What?”
“You know what,” Aspen groused and waved her hands like she was swatting at a bee. “All of the table touching.”
“Table touching?”
“Someone could have seen, Connor!”
“I was careful. No one was going to see,” he replied and moved toward Aspen who stood frozen in her spot.
“As if you couldn’t tell, there’s some unfinished business between us.”
“I’d hardly call a couple of kisses unfinished business,” she tried to sound blasé, but Wolfe could tell she struggled to remain composed.
“Two fucking awesome kisses.”
“They weren’t too bad,” Aspen looked down and drew tiny circles on the cement with the toe of her Vans.
Fucking adorable.
Wolfe placed a knuckle under her chin and tipped up her face so he could see her eyes. They were nearly glowing with what Wolfe hoped matched his own degree of desire.
“Not too bad, huh?” Wolfe leaned in and captured her lips for a kiss that was gentle and soft and promised so much more. He ended the kiss much sooner than he wanted. “You wanna play Wheel of Fortune?”
“Is that like Netflix and Chill?” Aspen smiled.
“No, it’s called Wheel of Fortune. For a girl who watches the show every night you have a one-track mind, and I’m not talking about Pat Sajack.”
“Are you saying I’m not focused on playing the greatest game in television history?”
“Calling it like I see it.”
“You’re on.”
“No. You’re on, BB,” Wolfe wrapped his body around hers from behind and ordered an Uber from his phone while bracketing her in his arms.
He considered himself the luckiest bastard in Colorado when she leaned back against his chest and relaxed into his embrace.