Page 22

CHAPTER 21

DECK

MATCHING DOGS

“Okay,” Lizzy said with a smile, and something inside me released.

She’d said yes!

“You’re sure?” The second the words were out I wanted to smack myself. I did not want her to change her mind.

“If you are,” she said, her smile turning shy.

“I’m sure,” I told her. “I’ll handle the guys.”

She nodded, and together, we went out to my truck. Lizzy tried to argue that she was going to drive, but I reminded her that this was a date. I was driving.

We headed to the gated community where Arndt lived and pulled up to his insane house. It was three or four stories if you counted the basement, which he’d turned into a hockey rink. The party would certainly be out back, where he’d had a heated pool, a hot tub, and a massive patio and outdoor bar and kitchen installed. We used to hang out at Mizzoni’s, but once he moved out to Los Angeles, it seemed like Klaus Arndt was more than happy to fill the void. As I helped Lizzy out of the truck, I could hear the music blasting.

“We just go in?” she asked as I reached for the front door handle.

“No one will answer if we ring the bell,” I explained, letting myself into the house as I’d done hundreds of times before.

“He might want to think a bit more about security,” she said as I pulled the door open. “Holy…”

Lizzy looked around the house. Arndt was very into white, so all the furniture was white, and the light gray hardwood was scattered with white rugs. He had two enormous white Afghan hounds, who greeted us as we stepped into the sunken living room.

“The dogs match.”

“They do,” I agreed. “This is Ryan and Blake.”

Lizzy frowned at me. “He named his dogs after…”

“His favorite celebrity couple, yes.”

“Weird.”

The dogs followed us to the patio doors and we headed outside to where most of the team lounged around the pool or hung out at the bar. When they spotted me with Lizzy, it was as if the music stopped and everyone froze. Of course, that isn’t what happened, but I could feel the questions.

“Let’s get a drink,” I suggested, guiding her to the bar. We took two stools next to Derek Reed, one of our centers, who grinned as if he’d just thought of the funniest thing in the world.

Julius Ramon sat at the end of the bar, chatting with Chris Houstein, and he lifted a hand and sent a smile as we got settled.

Derek was staring. “You’re the PR chick,” he told Lizzy as she scooted in next to him.

“And this is Derek. Master of the obvious,” I told her.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m Derek.” The idiot looked at me over Lizzy’s head, his eyebrows shooting up.

“I know Derek,” she said.

I didn’t have time to answer because Arndt was there next, moving behind the bar to stand in front of us. “Hello Deck. Hello date of Deck.”

“You know Lizzy,” I reminded him.

“Nope, I don’t. Because Lizzy works for the team, so you couldn’t be dating her without breaking some rules,” he pointed out. “So this must be someone else. We’ll call her… Tizzy.”

“That’s insane,” Lizzy said.

“But not against the rules,” Arndt quipped. “What can I get you, Tiz?”

Lizzy sighed and asked for a scotch, neat. A couple of the guys whistled their appreciation for her order.

“Deck?” My teammate asked.

“He likes pink wine,” Lizzy said quickly, eliciting a laugh from the guys who were eavesdropping.

“I’ll take a beer,” I suggested. “It’s a little early for pink wine.”

Arndt produced a beer for me and then gave me a meaningful look, shaking his head.

It was true, dating Lizzy could get me in trouble. But I found that compared to the warm certainty I felt when I thought about her, I wasn’t too worried about the rest. Besides, I was on Coach’s good side now.

For the most part, the team was well behaved, asking questions about her work and thanking her for what she was doing, trying to get the team a little more exposure. The other women at the party were welcoming too, and at one point, Lizzy went to play ping pong with a group of ladies across the patio.

“You’re playing with fire, huh?” Panther Aspen pulled up a chair next to me. “Is it worth the burn?” His words were laced with suggestion, and they made me want to sock him in the mouth.

“None of your business, you know?” I sipped my beer.

“Coach know about this?”

“No, and he doesn’t need to,” I suggested.

“Hard secret to keep, man.” He was right, but I wasn’t going to waste time worrying.

“I’m just trying to help her get a decent story here,” I told him. “Get close enough to us to really capture the spirit of the team in her PR efforts.”

“So you fucking her is a public service?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…” I shook my head, unwilling to engage in whatever little game Panther was trying to pull me into. It was a relief when John Samuels slid into the seat on my other side.

“Hey, how’s it going?” His warm smile always did something to ease whatever tensions I’d been feeling. John was a truly good guy.

“Things are good,” I told him. “Just a little bit of crazy going on at home, and a lot of pressure this season here.”

He nodded. “I get the pressure. You know, you don’t talk about home much.”

I met his eyes. Sometimes over the past couple years, I’d wanted to tell somebody the truth. Especially John. I just had a feeling he’d understand, that he might even have some good advice for me. But I couldn’t do that. “Yeah, my childhood was… different.”

“Different how?”

Shit. Why didn’t I just blow this off? “Like… I was just carrying a lot of expectations as a kid. Family stuff. And then I ended up getting raised by an uncle kind of far away from my parents.”

John’s smile dropped. “That sounds rough, Deck.”

“No, that was actually the good part.”

“Oh shit. I”m sorry, dude. And you still talk to your parents?”

I realized I’d just implied something totally different from the truth. But maybe that was for the best. “Yeah, they’re good people. I talk to them now and then. We just ended up going really different directions.”

John nodded, staring down into his beer bottle almost sadly.

I was about to say something else, but I paused as Lizzy approached. “Hey you.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. It was supposed to be just a quick gesture, just a taste.

Only my body didn’t get the memo, and things inside me went haywire. She smelled like heaven, and every nerve inside me was suddenly on overtime.

Lizzy tensed in my grip and then relaxed against me, and I nearly lost it.

“Hey,” she said, pulling back. “I was just gonna ask for the car keys. I left my bag in there and I want to grab my lip gloss.”

“Oh, yeah, I can grab it for you.” I hopped down off the stool and headed for the glass doors.

“I can get my own bag out of the car,” she argued, following me.

“I’ve got it. I’m being gentlemanly,” I said as we crossed the living room.

“You’re being condescending. If we are dating, you need to know that I’m a very independent person,” she argued as we stepped out the front door.

“I’m a very caring guy,” I explained, pulling the keys from my pocket and pointing them at the truck.

“I can get it myself,” she said, grabbing for the keys as I swiped them out of her grasp. I held the keys over my head and Lizzy jumped up and down, trying to wrestle them from my hand. “Give them to me!”

“You’re not being very nice,” I told her.

“You. Are. Not. Being. A. Gentleman.” Each of her words was punctuated by a vertical leap. She was getting good height on each one, but with my arm straight over my head, she didn’t have a chance. “Give me the keys, Declan!” There was something about seeing her exasperated, all flushed and gritty, that I just couldn’t resist.

“Why don’t you make me?” I don’t know what came over me, it wasn’t like me to stand in the front yard refusing to help a woman, but Lizzy had managed to twist this whole situation around until I was suddenly not helping her at all, I was basically keeping her from getting what she wanted.

“You want me to make you give me those keys?” she asked, stepping back and crossing her arms.

A little thrill went through me. “I’d like to see you try.”

Two seconds later, I was flat on my back, Lizzy sitting on my chest and the keys in her hand. “How the hell…?”

“Now you know,” she said, annoyingly proud of herself. She continued to sit on me while she aimed the fob at the car again and pressed unlock.

But this time, the car didn’t merely chirp and unlock.

It.

Exploded.