Offside (18 page)

She showered, shaved her legs, rubbed
lotion into her skin and spritzed with some of the expensive
perfume she’d gotten for Christmas from her brother and his wife.
It had been so long since she’d done this pre-date primping ritual,
it felt weird. She decided to try something with her hair, teasing
the top and pulling the front back to pin it at the back of her
head, leaving most of it down. She turned back and forth in the
mirror, unsure if it looked chic or stupid.

Whatever.

How the hell had she gotten herself
into this?

She paused to take a breath. Okay. She
had to get back into some kind of social life at some point in her
life. She had to go to the Sweet Affair fundraiser in a couple of
weeks. There would be other social events she had to attend for her
job. She was going to have to appear in public and people would
know who she was. She hadn’t planned on having a relationship, but
on the other hand she didn’t really like the idea of spending the
rest of her life alone. She hadn’t made a decision to never date
again. So this had to happen sometime.

And when Matt arrived at her apartment
and walked in looking so freaking fantastic, she remembered exactly
how she’d gotten herself into this.

Matt.

She wanted to sigh with pleasure at
seeing him. And it wasn’t just the way he looked, which was
awesome, dressed in a suit—a dark suit, with a subtly patterned
dark shirt open at the neck. It was the way he looked at her when
she opened her door, a look of wonder and awe and appreciation. It
was the way he smiled at her. It was the way he drew her into his
arms, whispering, “Holy fuck, Honey,” and then kissed her, stealing
her breath and turning her legs to pudding.

Holy fuck indeed.

The restaurant was lovely. The big,
arched windows were dark, and wall sconces on ochre-colored walls
created a golden glow. White cloths covered each table, topped with
silver and sparkling glasses and candles flickering in small votive
holders. Dark leather chairs sat at each table. They were seated at
a table for two, the service attentive but discreet. Honey did a
double take when she saw Bradley Cooper a couple of tables away.
Well. If there were paparazzi there, they’d be more focused on him
than on her and Matt, for sure. Hockey still wasn’t that popular in
Los Angeles that the players were instantly recognized walking down
the street. Not like movie stars.

When the server approached them for
drink orders, Matt surprised her by ordering champagne. The
sommelier came and they had a brief discussion about which kind.
Matt looked at Honey for input. She did know her champagne, but
even though she knew Matt had money, she hesitated at ordering the
bottle of Veuve Clicquot. But he just gave a nod of approval and
they were soon sipping the bubbly wine from elegant flutes as they
studied the menu.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” she
murmured after her first sip.

“They have crazy food here,” Matt
muttered.

She shot him an amused look over her
menu. “Why did you want to come here? We could have gone to Taco
Bell.”

He grinned. “You know, I would’ve been
good with somewhere like that.”

“Or Burger King for your
Whopper.”

“Yeah. But I wanted to take you out
somewhere nice. Because we’re celebrating. Right? And you can’t get
Veuve Clicquot at Taco Bell.”

“True.” She bent her head to the menu,
afraid for a moment, because he was being so sweet and this was a
date and she was getting in way too deep. She needed to be really,
really careful here.

They made their meal selection,
starting with trendy kale chips with smoked sea salt, and toasted
baguette with bacon jam. Matt selected the New York steak with
espresso-cocoa butter and Honey ordered tuna tartar
tostados.

When the server had withdrawn and
removed the menus, Honey leaned on the table and lifted her flute
toward him. “To your first game back tomorrow.” Their eyes met
across the small table. “Good luck, Matt.”

His eyes warmed. “Thank you.” They
touched their glasses together and then sipped the wine.

Honey’s attention was drawn to a group
of people being seated nearby and she choked on her champagne.
“Fuck,” she breathed.

Matt’s eyebrows lifted and he turned
his head. “Oh.”

Her parents were taking seats at a
table for six, along with Rudy Thomas and his wife, Marta, and the
Commissioner of the NHL and presumably his wife.

Chapter
Thirteen

Matt turned his gaze back to Honey,
who stared over at her parents with her mouth open. Then she
blinked and snapped her lips together.

“I don’t suppose we could make it
through the entire evening without them noticing me,” she
muttered.

“Want to go say hi?”

“Not really.”

He got that her relationship with her
parents wasn’t that great. For sure, different from his own with
his folks. He could understand there might be some strain after the
grief she’d given them as a teenager and then a young adult, and
after they’d played the “tough love” card and threatened to cut her
off.

But that was a few years ago, and
she’d been the good girl they wanted her to be ever since, so one
would think the relationship might have recovered by
now.

Steve Holbrook was a good guy, a
revered hockey player and respected businessman, and an influential
team owner in the NHL. His wife Sela was a former model, beautiful—
in fact Honey looked a lot like her—and gracious, always smiling.
Matt wasn’t a parent, but he could imagine how hard it might be to
see your child’s life spiraling out of control and how fucking hard
it would be to actually carry through on cutting her off, if it
meant she was practically living on the street. Even if you thought
that was for the best, it would be hard to do.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever be
that tough, but he assumed they’d tried everything they could to
get Honey to get her shit together before they’d gone that
far.

“Well,
I
have to say hi,” he
said quietly. “Those are my bosses over there.”

She stared at him and the fear and
apprehension in her pretty eyes made him reach across the table to
squeeze one of her hands.

“This is really awkward,” she
whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He’d
pushed away his own apprehension about Steve Holbrook finding out
he was seeing his daughter and tried not to think about it. Really,
they’d gone out once, although that had turned into a good part of
the weekend in bed. You couldn’t count that first lunch they’d had
together. So this was only a second date. Who knew where things
were going with them?

That was bullshit of course, because
he was finding himself more or less obsessed with Honey Holbrook,
thinking about her all the fucking time, fascinated with her,
worried about her and protective of her and…hell. But no one else
needed to know that right now.

“Come on,” he said, pushing his chair
back. “Let’s just do it.”

He caught the tension in her mouth as
he moved to pull her chair out for her and then together they
zigzagged around a couple of tables to approach the group of
six.

Steve looked up and saw them first,
his eyes alighting on his daughter with surprise and a smile. Then
he saw Matt behind her and his eyebrows flew up. “Honey,” he said,
and Sela Holbrook’s head turned as well.

“Honey!” she said, immediately rising
from her chair. “Darling! Hello!”

Mother and daughter embraced in a
barely touching hug with air kisses. Steve rose too and gave his
daughter a more substantial hug.

“Imagine running into you here!” Sela
said. “But what on earth are you wearing?” She gave Honey an
up-and-down look. “Sweetheart, sequins are a little much for dinner
here, don’t you think?”

Color flooded into Honey’s
cheeks.

Matt’s insides went cold.

“Matt,” Steve said, extending a hand.
“How are you?”

“Great, thanks.”

“I hear you’re playing
tomorrow.”

“I am.” Matt flashed a smile. “We’re
celebrating tonight.” He glanced at Honey.

He could see the questions on the
other man’s face, and in Sela’s eyes as well.

Matt greeted the others at the table
and they made some small talk, but he overheard Sela murmuring to
Honey, “What are you doing with him, Honey?”

“Having dinner, Mom.”

“But…have you two…?” Her question
trailed off. Clearly neither of her parents knew what to make of
this.

They’d known about him and Honey
seeing each other eight years ago. He’d never really known what
they thought about it. When he’d been leaving to go back to
college, he’d been worried about Honey and the friends she hung out
with and he’d talked to Steve about it. Steve hadn’t said much to
him, but he’d gotten the furious phone call from Honey afterward,
so clearly Steve had told her about the conversation.

It had all been a long time ago. But
yeah. Honey was right. This was awkward.

Matt kept his smile firmly in place
until they returned to their table with an invitation to join the
group for drinks after dinner if they liked.

“I’d rather eat my hair,” Honey
muttered, taking her seat.

Matt repressed his smile.

Honey picked up her champagne flute
and drained it. The server immediately appeared to refill it and
she picked it up again. When the server went to pour more for Matt,
he shook his head.

“Game tomorrow,” he said to Honey.
“Also I’m driving.”

“That encounter put a damper on the
evening.”

“It’s okay, Honey,” he said quietly.
“It’s fine.”

She took a big breath and let it out.
“Right.” Clearly she didn’t agree.

Honey’s sequined dress probably was a
little flashy for this place, but he couldn’t believe her mom had
said that to her. It made his blood run hot. He didn’t even know
what to say to her about that, to make her feel better. “You look
beautiful,” he said finally.

She shook her head and looked down. “I
didn’t have much else to wear,” she said. “I gave away most of my
fancy clothes years ago, and I haven’t needed anything else
lately.”

He wanted to tell her he’d take her
shopping and buy her whatever she wanted, but something kept his
mouth shut. He had a feeling that would only make her more
uncomfortable. “The dress is hot,” he said, picking up his
champagne. “And you’re beautiful, and it doesn’t matter. You
could’ve worn jeans and it wouldn’t matter.”

Now he felt guilty for bringing her
out to a place like this, dammit. They
could
have gone to
Taco Bell—he didn’t give a shit where he had dinner.

Her smile went crooked as their eyes
met. “You have to stop being such a nice guy.”

He widened his eyes. “You want me to
be a dick?”

She lowered her gaze, shaking her
head, smiling. “It’d be easier to resist you if you
were.”

That sounded good.

“I’ve had dick moments,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll screw up at some point and piss you
off.”

That made her laugh. And that made him
happy.

“Or maybe you’ve forgotten my dick
move from eight years ago,” he said.

“I haven’t forgotten it,” she said.
“But now it doesn’t seem quite as dickish as it did back
then.”

“I was worried about you.”

Their eyes met again.

“I know. And you had reason to
be.”

“Tell me why things are so tense
between you and your parents.”

“I’d really rather not, when they’re
sitting right over there.”

“Yeah. I get that. Okay, you can tell
me later.”

Her lips curved. “Maybe. So. You were
good with those kids this afternoon.”

“Changing the subject,” he murmured.
“That about gave me whiplash.”

Her smile broadened. “It’s good that
you like kids.”

“I guess. I have fun with my nieces
and nephews, when I get to see them.”

“Your brothers all have
kids?”

“Tag and Kyla’s kids are seven and
five. Josh and Amy. Jase and Remi’s are five and three and she’s
pregnant again, due in a couple months. Brandon’s five, Kevin is
three. They’re hoping for a girl. Logan and Nicole have only one so
far, Chris is three.”

“Chris is a boy?”

“Yeah. Christian.”

“Wow.” Like hers, his siblings were
way ahead of him in the reproduction game. “Any hockey
players?”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh…
yeah
.
All of ‘em. They’ve even got Amy on skates already.”

“Could be a whole Heller
team.”

He chuckled. She seemed a little more
relaxed now, even though she kept casting glances toward her
parents’ table.

Their appetizers arrived and they
shared the kale chips and the baguette with bacon jam.