Page 41 of Pipe Dreams
“I reallyshouldfind a cute basketball player,” Lauren said, giving her hair a last look in the mirror. “I wouldn’t have to make a big spectacle of it. Slipping a key into somebody’s pocket can be done on the sly.”
“You go, girl.”
Lauren found her wine on the coffee table and took a gulp for courage. Wine was another thing she might be giving up this year. Tonight she should live a little before the next chapter of her life began.
“Help me decide between these earrings,” Georgia prompted.
“Sure.” Lauren helped the publicist choose accessories, and made small talk about Florida. It was nice having a couple of women to chat with. So much so that she forgot to reconsider the blue dress.
TWELVE
The first hour of the party was fun for Mike. His teammates enjoyed shaking hands with the basketball team, trading barbs and talking smack about which athletes were the toughest.
Hockey players, of course. But everyone kept the ribbing friendly.
It was a good party, but it would have been better if he was wearing shorts and a polo shirt. Standing around on the sand in a tuxedo was a little ridiculous. The women looked more comfortable in their summery dresses. Some of them held a drink in one hand and their shoes in the other. The ocean made for a pleasing soundtrack in the background. And the lights strung up on the palm trees made the place feel festive.
Rich philanthropists circled the athletes, asking for autographs. He and O’Doul and Leo Trevi stood in a loose group with a couple of friendly basketball players and a handful of fans.
“Four words,” Trevi teased. “One time-out per game.”
“That’s more than four words,” pointed out Ty, the basketball captain. He was a towering man with a shaved head and laughing eyes.
“Not if ‘time-out’ is a compound word,” Leo insisted.
“Oh, college boy,” Patrick O’Toole chuckled. “Just ignore our rookie,” he said to the b-ball player. “He can’t help it.”
“No—seriously,” Leo said with a grin. “How many time-outs are there in an average basketball game? A million?”
Ty took a sip of beer. “But you guys have that little bench for when you’re naughty, just like in kindergarten. Don’t you get some rest over there?”
Mike Beacon laughed, accidentally making eye contact with a cute redhead that was lingering near his elbow.
“I’m Connie,” she said, holding out a hand.
“Hi, Connie,” he said lightly. “I’m Mike.” They shook.
“I know who you are,” she said. “Meeting you was one of my reasons for coming here tonight. I love to watch the goalie.”
“Yeah?” His bow tie felt a little too constricting all of a sudden. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.” It wasn’t an eloquent line, but he didn’t ever know what to say when women hit on him. He wasn’t on the market for a hookup, and hadn’t been since high school.
“Tampa’s offensive line is going to make you work,” she said, shifting closer to him. “Especially that punk Martell.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled, because it was fun to talk hockey with a fan who actually watched the game. Maybe he’d underestimated Carrie. Connie. Whatever her name was. “What tricks do you think he has in his bag?”
“His trick is that he’s unpredictable. He’ll spend a whole game trying to get you with a toe drag, and then the following game he’ll try something else.”
Mike touched his beer bottle to Connie’s wineglass. “You should see if our defensive coordinator is hiring any assistant coaches. I think you’d be a shoo-in.”
She threw her head back and laughed, giving him adifferent view of her elegant throat. She had pink, kissable lips and clear blue eyes.
And he didn’t give a damn. His eyes wandered off Connie and scanned the crowd. He thought he’d spied Lauren earlier. She must be here somewhere.
He really shouldn’t torture himself, but the sight of Lauren in an evening gown was not to be missed. And then he spotted the shine of her hair, and the graceful line of her neck. He drank in these little details one at a time, because glimpses were all he could have.
There had once been a time when he could look across the room at her and thinkshe’s really mine. There was no better feeling than knowing they’d go home together at the end of the night, climbing into bed for sex or conversation. Or both. He missed the whole package.
“Then there’s Skews,” Connie went on to say. “He’s going to give your man O’Doul some trouble.”
