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“Hey, Miller,” one of the smaller men greeted Bray with his hand extended. “Good to see you here.”
“Howdy,” Bray greeted and introduced me—Jacques Gauthier, the team captain, Alec Huxley, Bray’s other linemate, and Chris Minns, on defense. They were already talking my ear off.
“G’day.” I even managed a smile. Go, me.
“You’re Aussie,” Minns pointed out.
I nodded, not wanting to add more and he grinned. “My partner, Gauthier’s wife, both of Hux’s partners, and Rune’s best friend are all Aussies. Looks like you’ve already got a few things in common with the PAGS.”
“Pags?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Yeah, partners and girlfriends. It can’t be WAGS anymore. Hux and I are both in poly relationships. My wife and I have a boyfriend, and Hux lives with his two partners.”
I’d known that—anyone who turned on a television knew that—but hearing them talk about their relationships so freely was refreshing. Bray and I weren’t closeted by any means, but we didn’t exactly wave our relationship in the faces of the Blizzards or their fans. Maybe his being on the Seals roster would change that.
Gauthier, Hux, and Minns led us toward the crowd, but I hung back, following a few steps behind. I heard Gauthier ask, “How long have you two been together?”
“Married for six months and together for just over two years.”
“Right when you joined Boston,” Hux mused. “It wasn’t the Bruins you were with, though, was it?”
“No, the Blizzards,” Bray acknowledged. “And y’all’d better believe it was right when I joined the team. I went to NYC to meet a buddy for drinks the first weekend I was in Boston, before I’d even met my teammates. I ended up going home with Spencer instead.”
They did the small-talk thing, and I followed along silently until Bray reached back for my hand, dragging me up next to him. He knew I was reluctant to be in the limelight with him—standing next to him inevitably meant I’d need to speak to people… urgh—but being alone here would probably be worse.
The group Gauthier led us to were spread out on picnic blankets. I concentrated on keeping my expression carefully blank rather than the scowl I normally wore and scanned the gathering. They were a mix of ages, from two toddlers right up to a bloke my dad’s age.
My gaze skidded to a halt.
The breath whooshed out of my lungs.
My heart slammed against my chest.
She was radiant. She was… lovely. Even sitting down, I could tell she was tall and her curves were out of this world. Breasts that would overflow my hands and thick thighs that were… mmm. I shivered thinking about how soft and pliable they’d be wrapped around mine or Bray’s waist. My hands clenched of their own accord, my mind’s eye conjuring up the feel of that luscious arse under my palms. I yearned for her. Imagining us together was a sweet torture.
I sucked in a breath and willed my instant boner to deflate.
I lifted my gaze to her face, and my mouth went dry. People wrote songs about women as beautiful as her. Soulful dark brown eyes and long, thick, glossy hair that I wanted to tug out of the tie and see all tussled and sex tangled. Her full, pink lips were stretched into a sweet smile as she focused on the toddler in front of her.
How far did that tanned complexion go? Would I find a tan line if she stripped naked in front of me? I didn’t think so. I had a feeling that all that smooth skin was naturally brown. At a guess, I’d say she was at least part Latina.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted the copper tang of blood. The sharp pain grounded me, pulled me back from temptation into something more controlled.
My name had me snapping back to attention. The group had been talking while I stared at the siren in front of me. I caught one of the women sitting opposite her spin around, a pink flush staining her cheeks. She giggled, and another woman, who looked enough like her to be her daughter, stared, slack-jawed.
Uncomfortable, I looked away, and my gaze collided with a familiar face. He murmured something to the woman next to him, and I blinked, trying and failing to mask my surprise. Locke Ledger—Hollywood’s latest action hero superstar—was at the team barbie?
Then it clicked. He was the boyfriend Minns had mentioned. I remembered the presser where Ledger had staked his claim.
Gauthier finally got to the only person in the group I was interested in meeting. I licked my lips and sucked in a breath, my shoulders pulling back as I inhaled. Bray stood eerily still next to me, his shoulder brushing against mine as he looked down toward the gorgeous woman before us.
“This is Keeley Fisher, our PR Manager, and her daughter, Hannah.”
“Actually, I’m using my maiden name now. Keeley Torres.”
Keeley. It suited her. A beautiful name for a stunning woman, and her accent when she pronounced her surname was hot as hell. The way the “r” rolled right over her tongue was something I wished I could do.
She shot me a smile. She was beyond gorgeous.
My voice dried up.
Words escaped me.
But Brayden was quick-witted, and that smart mouth of his never failed to deliver.
“Y’all, this team suddenly got a whole lot more interesting,” he drawled. I loved his accent, too—warm and slow like honey—and more pronounced when he was turned on like he was now. “You’re as pretty as a Texas rose.”
“No,” Keeley stated matter-of-factly. There was no room for negotiating in her response. It was no-nonsense. Cutting, even. She pointed her finger at Brayden, her warning direct and merciless. “You’re here to play, Miller, not flirt with the staff.”
Huh, Keeley didn’t say she wasn’t interested. She said Brayden wasn’t allowed to flirt with her. But that was like waving a red flag at a bull. Telling Bray he couldn’t do something only pushed him harder to prove you wrong. Making a point to his dad was how he ended up in the NHL.
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