Page 12 of Empty Net

“You can’t keep playing these games, Lilah Jane. You’re embarrassing our family.”

In my distracted state, I run straight into a wall.

“Whoa,” the wall says, its voice warm like syrup. Big hands wrap around my waist, steadying me before I do something truly embarrassing like spilling my champagne all over their expertly pressed suit. “Easy there, sugar.”

Sugar.

One word, and I know instantly who it is. This isn’t a wall at all; it’s a person…a very tall, well-built person if the ridges I feel beneath my hands are any indication.

Fox.

I look up into a pair of coffee-colored eyes surrounded by…freckles. He has freckles. How’d I never realize Fox has freckles? How did I never realize he smells so damn good, like soap with just a hint of mahogany? And are his eyes always this gorgeous with little flecks of amber?

“Lilah,” he says with a grin that makes me feel all kinds of warm. Or maybe that’s all the champagne I’ve had. I can’t tell which.

“Fox, how are you?”

He smiles down at me. “Me? Oh, I’m fine as a frog’s hair split both ways.”

I laugh, wobbling a little as his grip tightens on me. “Do frogs even have hair?”

His grin slips, but only for a moment before returning even wider. “Well, no, they sure don’t.” He sets me right, then releases me, and I instantly miss his warmth. “Are you having a good time?”

“I am having a great time, Fox. Are you?”

“I am. It’s a great party you and Auden put together.”

It surprises me that he knows I helped Auden plan this party. It’s not like we announced it anywhere. Auden said she was throwing a party to bring together the team before the new year, and I immediately asked how I could help. It’s what we do—work together.

But I didn’t know Fox knew that.

“Is that…not right?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “No, it’s right. You’re right. We worked on it together.”

“I thought so. You two make a good team.”

For the I-don’t-even-know-how-many-eth time, Fox has me ducking my head in an attempt to hide a blush.

“Thanks,” I mumble, unsure why I’m suddenly feeling shy, especially since I’m usually anything but, yet here I am, red-faced and self-conscious in front of the hockey goalie. “So”—I push my hair behind my ear—“how’s sports?”

He chuckles. “Sports is good.”

Our conversation makes no grammatical sense, but it makes me laugh anyway, and I could use a laugh. I could use a lot of things right now, like a romp in the sheets or another drink. A waiter approaches, and I quickly chug the rest of mine before dropping the glass on their tray and grabbing a fresh one, taking an immediate sip.

Fox’s brows rise, but he doesn’t comment.

“Sorry,” I say anyway. “Had to talk to my mother tonight.”

He nods like he completely understands, but I doubt he does. Fox strikes me as the type of guy who has parents who love him and are proud of him, not parents who always want more, more, more. I take another drink of the cool champagne, the bubbles tickling the back of my throat, my head getting all floaty, which is perfectly fine by me. The party is a hit, and after working so hard on it the last few weeks, I deserve a night to relax, a night to forget all about my mother’s words.

Fox steps back, bending slightly at the waist and holding his hand out like this is some Regency romance and he’s courting me. “Would you like to dance, Lilah?” he asks.

Even though there’s a space that’s clearly designated for dancing, nobody is out there right now. I’m sure it’ll be another hour before enough alcohol has been passed around for that to happen. If we went out there now, we’d look ridiculous.

“Uh, no one else is dancing, Fox.”

“So?”

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