Page 92 of Pucking the Team
“Your chat-up lines were the worst I’d ever heard.”
“Can’t have been that bad.” He winked at Dana. “Or you wouldn’t still be here.”
“Pippa! You’re here. They said you would be…but…”
I turned at a familiar voice. “Matthew!” Matthew Foster, my photographer friend, was pushing through the huge bodies toward me.
“Small bloody world,” he said.
He looked as handsome as ever; his dark hair was longer than the last time I’d seen him, and he had a deep suntan.
I grinned. “What are you doing here?”
He put an arm around my shoulders and pointed through the crowd. “I’m here with the love of my life, Todd Carty. See, him there?”
“Ah, yes…is he a model? I thought he was a hockey player.” The man was beautiful—perfect bone structure and an insanely symmetrical face. He was also laughing at something Dylan was saying to him, which only added to his devastatingly good looks.
Matthew laughed. “He is a hockey player but he has been known to do some modelling. That’s how we met.”
“Ah, yes, it’s coming back to me now. But still, what are you doing here in Orlando? He plays in New York, right?”
“He does, but we took a vacation…listen to me, all American…I mean we went on holiday down in the Keys. We’re on our way back, and Todd wanted to call in and see old teammates.
“That is lucky for me. And tell me, have you become a mad hockey fan?”
He laughed. “I’ve been giving it a go for a few years now, but I’m really only a fan of one player, and that’s Todd.” He held up his hand and waved at Todd. “You must meet him.”
Todd spotted Matthew and along with Dylan came over to us.
“You know each other?” Dylan said gruffly. He eyed up Matthew’s arm around my shoulders with a distinct flash of possessiveness in his eyes.
“Yes,” I said. “Matthew and I have done quite a few shoots together.” I turned to him. “Remember that time in Morocco, when I had to stand with a camel and it kept burping?” I wrinkled my nose. “It was disgusting.”
“And you couldn’t stop laughing. It was supposed to be a serious shoot for Armani.”
I giggled. “I know. But it’s their fault, working with animals is always a nightmare.”
Dylan came closer, his body brushing mine. He gave Matthew a dark stare.
Matthew chuckled, dropped his arm from around my shoulder, and took Todd’s hand. “We’ve got news,” he said to me.
“Go on.” I looked between them.
“We’ve been approved to adopt,” Matthew said, “and it’s going to be happening soon.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” I beamed. “Boy or girl? Baby or a bit older?”
“We have no idea yet. Maybe even siblings.” Todd gazed at Matthew with such love in his eyes that more of my belief in it was restored. “We just want a family.”
“That’s great, man.” Dylan slipped his arm around my waist. “I’m happy for you.”
“What you happy about?” Brick stepped up to us with a towel around his waist and his blond hair wet from the pool. He slugged on a bottle of beer.
“These guys are adopting,” Dylan said.
“Hey, congrats. You told Raven yet?”
Todd nodded. “Yeah, I called him when we got the news. He’s psyched, wants to be Uncle Raven.”
