Page 14 of Hot Rucking Canadian

More intimacy.

More of him…

Instead of heading back to my condo, I turned my car toward the bar I’d been to last night.

Was it really just last night?

Four hours later, after having turned down a couple ofnicemen, I was done.

Okay, maybe nice was wrong. They’d been sexy as hell. And all twinks who clearly wanted to bottom.

No rough-and-tumble guys who wanted to drill me into the mattress.

Give up. You’ll never find him. And if he’d wanted a return trip, he would’ve left his number.

I couldn’t argue with that. So I curled up with Mamba and watched the sports recap, only crawling into bed when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

Chapter Seven

Travis

Apparently pouring rain didn’t keep away the hometown crowds.

I wore my slicker, heavy boots, and a baseball cap. Theoretically the stadium seating was covered.

In theory.

When the rain pelted sideways in high winds, though, jeans were bound to get soaked. I hadn’t moved the entire game because I didn’t want my dry ass to get wet.

Other fans gave me a wide berth.

After looking at me, the guy selling hot dogs had scrambled away and not come back.

You’re scowling. You’re scaring people off. Hell, my scar did a lot of the work. And when I smiled, it always looked a little crooked. So I just didn’t bother.

On the field, four guys hauled one guy in the air.

He caught the ball.

And they were off again.

The weather was absolutely not stopping these freaking idiots. I couldn’t even imagine how cold and wet they were.

Well, I could. I’d worked some dicey days atop one of Vancouver’s tallest skyscrapers. I wore multiple layers of shirts and stripped them off as I sweated through them. Some blazing-hot days, I was ready to strip down to my naked scrawny torso. Other days, like today, I needed every ounce of body heat I could summon.

The ball passed back and forth between four Orca players as they made their way down the field, and the next thing I knew, Mallow was skidding across the line with one arm stuck out and the ball tightly gripped under the other.

The crowd roared.

Even I jumped out of my seat and pumped my arm in the air.

The players all slapped each other on the backs.

As I settled back into my seat, a young girl caught my eye.

She drew her finger down her face, exactly mirroring my scar. Then she pulled her mouth into a massive grin.

I tried for a scowl. I really did. When confronted with her unrelenting grin, however, I couldn’t help but smile back. Without a doubt, mine would be crooked, but I gave it a try.

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