Page 85 of Beauty
My best friend’s lips kick up on one side. “I love when my wife is vicious, so I assure you, that doesn’t bother me.”
Camden picks up the cards in front of him and eyes me, like he’s waiting for me to respond.
I shake my head at the kid. He was traded to Las Vegas shortly after I came to Boston, but a year later, he came back. He and Daniel are really tight. He’s a winger like the three of us, but War and I have ten years on Daniel and Camden. While we’re coming close to the tail end of our careers, they’re just getting started.
“I’m not worried,” I tell him. “Vetters is weak on his left side,” I say of the defenseman that Cam or I will face tonight. “And Tatty hates when people play with the puck.” Minnesota’s goalie is adamant that hockey is a serious sport. He despises the tricks the younger guys love.
I may not play with the puck, but the showmanship doesn’t bother me. I’ll do whatever it takes to get the biscuit into the back of the net. And if playing with the food is the way to make it happen, I’ll manage.
When a commotion rises near the front of the locker room, I fold my crossword puzzle over and turn toward the sounds.
“Looks like Ezra’s bringing the new girl around.” Cam sets his cards face down on the bench in front of him.
War knees him, his blue eyes hard. “Drop thenew girlshit and show some respect. She’s the fucking owner of this team.”
Aiden and Brooks pass by, headed that way, though I’ve yet to set eyes on my girl.
Because make no mistake about it, Sienna Langfield may be their sister, and she might be the owner and CEO of this team, but she’s mine.
Just need to get her on board with that little fact.
I hang back and join in with the guys, studying my cards. I try to distract myself by chatting with them, by visualizing the way the game will go, and then flip back to the crossword puzzle Iwas working on. But Sienna’s mere presence disrupts my peace. Then her scent hits me, beckoning me to look up.
In a locker room full of smelly fucking equipment and men—seriously, hockey is hands-down the worst-smelling sport—she’s like a breath of fresh air.
The black Louboutin boots register first. Fuck. The sight takes me back to how good they looked on her when she spread her legs wide so I could fuck her with my fingers.
Not much is more uncomfortable than an erection in hockey gear, but I’m a masochist. So rather than look away, I assess her slowly, taking in all her curves.
And when a shock of blue peeks out from beneath her black blazer, I give up all hope of remaining unaffected. There’s a goddamn hockey jersey beneath that jacket. Tucked into those tight black leather pants. My mouth waters.
Could the number on the back of the jersey belong to one of her brothers? Sure. But which one? How would she choose?
Knowing Sienna, she couldn’t.She wouldn’t.
That knowledge gives me a full-on chub.
I drop my puzzle book and stand to greet our new CEO. It’s only polite. Good business. The cup pinches my thickened cock, but with the way my heart is racing, I barely notice the discomfort.
“No need to get up, boys. Just saying hello.” She offers a smile, though she pointedly avoids looking at me.
Camden, who’s dressed from the waist down only, gives her a boyish grin.
Irritation flares hot in my veins. He’s not all that close to any of the Langfields. He’s also enough of a player not to care about the sort of rules that would deter him from hooking up with a superior. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Camden Snow. I handle your left side.”
War stands and smacks him on the back of the head. “Shut up.” With a glare at the kid, he steps in front of him. “Sienna, if any of these idiots give you trouble, let me know.”
She lets out a raspy laugh and shakes her head. “I’ll be fine, Warren, but thank you.”
Ezra appears, decked out in a suit, with his hair slicked back, and rests his hand on Sienna’s lower back. “Everyone behaving for you?” he asks. “And dressed?” Eyes narrowed, he surveys us all, stopping at Camden. “At least for the most part?”
Ezra was an okay player fifteen years ago. He retired before I was drafted, but I’ve heard he could be a cocky bastard. The majority of hockey players are, I guess. It comes with the territory, so I never really minded.
But the way he’s touching Sienna right now has my nerves on edge. I’d be itching to push any man away from her, but as she stands stock-still, wearing an expressionless mask, like she doesn’t want him to touch her, my vision goes red. I’m not a fighter. In fact, I’ve got a pretty chill temperament for a hockey player. But I want to rip this guy’s arm out of its socket and beat him with it.
“Good luck tonight,” the fucker tacks on as he guides an uncomfortable Sienna toward the center of the locker room where Gavin is now standing.
“Damn, baby Langfield isfine,” Cam drawls.
