Page 9

8

brODY

T wo days before the gala, Tommy corners me after practice, expression serious in a way that immediately puts me on alert.

“We need to talk,” he says, glancing around the locker room to make sure no one’s listening.

“About?”

“Jason called me yesterday.”

Just the name is enough to make my jaw clench. “And?”

“He heard about you and Elliot.”

“There is no ‘me and Elliot’ yet,” I correct, though the ‘yet’ slips out before I can stop it.

“Tell that to Jason. Apparently Kelly’s cousin works at Marcel’s and saw you two having dinner. Word got back to him.”

Of course it did. The hockey world’s gossip network operates with terrifying efficiency. “So what? Elliot’s been divorced for three years. She can have dinner with whoever she wants.”

“You and I know that. But Jason’s always been territorial, even about things that aren’t his anymore.” Tommy looks genuinely concerned. “Just wanted to give you a heads up. He seemed pretty worked up about it.”

“What’s he going to do? Body check me into the boards?”

“It’s not on the ice I’m worried about. It’s the off-ice stuff. The gossip, the subtle digs to mutual acquaintances. You know how he operates.”

I do know. I’ve seen how Jason Martinez can poison a locker room with strategic comments, undermine guys who cross him. “Let him try. I don’t care what he says about me.”

“Not you,” Tommy says pointedly. “Elliot finally got free of all that drama. If she’s seen with you at the gala, it pulls her right back into it.”

The thought lands like a punch to the gut. Am I being selfish, pursuing Elliot when it might expose her to exactly the kind of hockey world politics she’s avoided for three years?

“Maybe I should tell her,” I say, half to myself. “About Jason calling. Let her decide if she wants to deal with the potential fallout.”

Tommy nods. “Honesty’s usually the best policy. Especially with someone who’s been lied to before.”

“Says the guy who advised me not to tell her I moved next door on purpose.”

“That’s different. That’s just you being a hopeless romantic with questionable decision-making skills. This involves her ex-husband potentially making her life difficult again.”

He’s right, and I know it. “I’ll talk to her. But not before the gala. She’s already nervous about attending. I don’t want to add to that.”

“Your call. But sooner rather than later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I finish tying my shoes, mind racing. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“What are friends for? Besides, Sarah would kill me if I knew something that might affect Elliot and didn’t tell you.”

The mention of Sarah reminds me. “How’s Operation Colorful Dress going?”

Tommy grins. “Sarah tried to get her in something green and backless yesterday. Elliot threatened to burn down the store.”

“Good for her.” I can’t help laughing at the image. “Though I wouldn’t complain about backless.”

“I bet you wouldn’t.” Tommy throws his towel at me. “Keep it in your pants, Carter. At least until after the gala.”

“Always the voice of restraint.”

“Someone has to be, since you’re sending dick pics to women you haven’t even taken to dinner yet.”

“It wasn’t a—it was just underwear!” I protest, lowering my voice when a few teammates glance our way. “And it was to make her feel less embarrassed about accidentally sending me a similar photo.”

“Sure, sure. Very noble of you.” Tommy’s expression turns serious again. “Just be careful, okay? With all of it. Elliot’s important to us.”

“She’s important to me too,” I admit, the truth of it settling deep in my chest. “More than I expected.”

Tommy studies me for a moment, then nods, seemingly satisfied by whatever he sees. “Good. Then you definitely won’t screw it up.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m a fountain of wisdom.” He grabs his bag. “Sarah wants to know if you need help shopping for a gala gift for Elliot.”

“A what?”

“You know, flowers or jewelry or something. To give her when you pick her up.” When I stare at him blankly, he sighs. “Dude, have you never taken a woman to a formal event before?”

“Of course I have. I just didn’t realize gifts were mandatory.”

“Not mandatory. Just...nice. Especially for someone who’s nervous about the whole thing.”

He has a point. “What would you suggest? I don’t think we’re at the jewelry stage yet.”

“Flowers are safe. Or something thoughtful based on what you know about her. Sarah says she likes old books.”

The idea clicks immediately—perfect, personal, not overwhelmingly romantic but still meaningful. “I know just the thing. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Just make sure your tux fits and you have the bow tie situation handled. Sarah’s already stressed enough about this event without having to fix your formal wear too.”

“Yes, sir.” I mock salute him. “Any other instructions from the committee?”

“Just one.” Tommy’s expression turns smug. “Sarah said to tell you Elliot’s dress is burgundy. In case you wanted to coordinate.”

Burgundy. I picture Elliot in deep red, a color as rich and complex as she is. “Tell Sarah thank you for the intel.”

“Will do. Oh, and one more thing.” He pauses at the door. “She’s definitely wearing the lingerie from the photo. You’re welcome.”

He ducks out before I can respond, which is probably for the best, since my brain has temporarily short-circuited at the information.

Black lingerie. Burgundy dress. The images blend together in my mind, creating a picture that’s going to make it very difficult to focus on anything else today.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I have two days to find the perfect gift, master the art of bow ties, and prepare myself to escort Elliot to an event that represents everything she’s avoided for three years.

And I have to do it all without telling her about Jason’s call or the real reason I moved in next door.