Page 10 of Wyatt

“Because you’ve got great guns?” she said, winking. She pressed her hand to his arm, squeezed.

He pried her hand off him. “No. Because my last name is Marshall. Sheriff. Gun. Get it?” He tried to move past her, but she stepped in front of him.

“Who are you looking for?”

He looked down at her. Maybe five-seven, lean, deep blue eyes. Pretty, late thirties. She raised an eyebrow, and for a second, he paused.

York? Yes, he was supposed to be male, but he’d seen enoughMission: Impossiblemovies to know that sometimes things go south so, “I’m looking for a friend.” He lowered his voice. “His name is York.”

He waited.

“Sorry. I don’t know anyone named York.” She glanced around the room and lowered her voice also. “But I’m pretty good at finding people.”

And now he just felt silly.

She smiled, and it felt genuine. But, no. He wasn’t interested in help or anything else she might offer.

Maybe she figured it out because she added, “My name is Nat. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink while you wait for your friend?” She winked and pressed her hand to his chest. “You can tell your secret at how you stop pucks.”

“I don’t stop pucks, if you happened to catch the game.” He touched her hand, intending on moving it.

“You caught it. You just dropped it.”

He looked at her. “Even worse. Sorry, I really don’t want to talk about it. Besides, I need to find my friend.”

York, show up.

He’d heard about the man from RJ—in fact, she couldn’t stop talking about the American agent who had saved her life.

And apparently, Coco’s life.

No, Wyatt wasn’t jealous, but…fine, maybe a little. Becausehewanted to be the one to save her life. Be a hero in her eyes, back before he’d screwed it all up.

He pushed past Nat and scanned the room again. The bar was filling up with players from other teams—Czech, Polish, Lithuanian, Russian. The press had found them—he noticed more than a few women with press passes. Waiters carried drinks to tables.

Jace stood in the corner of the room, his back to the lobby, talking with Deke.

Movement behind him caught Wyatt’s attention.

A woman. Petite. A little curvy, but mostly just small, athletic. Wearing a hoodie.

She turned and met his eyes.

Coco.

Seeing her hit him like a punch, right to his sternum, knocking the wind from him.

Time stopped as her luminous gray-green eyes stared him down.

Then the past grabbed his heart, and he was standing on the other side of his hotel room door, staring down at her, laughter spilling out behind them.Coco. What are you doing here?

Coco whirled and took off across the parquet floor of the lobby.

Notagain.

He launched after her, pushing through the room, past Jace, and straight out into the lobby. Her name stung his lips, nearly pouring out, but she wasn’t just fleeing him, but a known assassin, probably, so he clamped down on his shout and lengthened his strides as he followed her path.

He hit the far hallway.

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