Las Vegas Sidewinders: Drake (Book 2) (3 page)

“So how long have you
been divorced?” Drake asked, cocking his head. “We might as well get all the
hard questions over with.”

“Legally? About a year,
but I got a letter from him while I was in Afghanistan, asking for a divorce a
little over two years ago. The day of the explosion.”

“Shit.” Drake shook his
head. “You mean you came home from Afghanistan with burns all over your body
and he still filed for divorce?”

“Well, he’d
already
filed apparently, but his mother made him wait a year. She and I are still
close. If not for her and my three best girlfriends, I never would have made
it. It’s been the worst two years of my life, and to add insult to injury, Clay
tried to say that it was my fault.”

“An IED in Afghanistan
was your fault?” Drake narrowed his eyes. “What kind of asshole were you
married to?!”

She smiled wanly. “A
big one, apparently.” She shook her head. “Let’s not talk about me anymore,
okay? Let’s talk about you. You know I’m a Marine—what do you do for a living?”

“I play in the NHL.” He
paused. “Hockey.”

This time she scowled
at him. “I’m a woman, not a dunce—you think I don’t know what the NHL is?”

“A lot of girls give me
a blank look when I say that,” he said. “Unless they’re puck bunnies, and I’m
too old for that shit.”

“Puck bunnies?” She
frowned.

“Girls who hang around
the rink trying to sleep with hockey players.”

“Oh.” She made a face.
“
Groupies
.”

“Exactly.”

The music was fading
and he took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. It’s hot in here and I
would prefer to escape before my sister tries to set me up with someone I don’t
like—I’ve had to suffer through three terrible dances already.”

“Was she playing
matchmaker with us?” Erin looked up in surprise.

“Why not?” He smiled
down at her. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and successful—what’s not to
like?”

“She’s seen me naked!”
Erin muttered. “Why on earth would she want to subject her baby brother to
someone who looks like I do?!”

“Does that mean I get
to see you naked?!” he asked, his eyes glistening with amusement.

“Hell no!” She laughed
though, finding it easy to do with this giant of a man who seemed so kind and
gentle.

He guided her out onto
a beautiful balcony that overlooked the grounds of the country club where the
ball was being held. Lit by hundreds of tiny candles, it was romantic and
peaceful.

They leaned over the
railing and for a while, neither spoke. “So, who do you play for?” she asked.
“Chicago?”

“No. This is my
hometown, but I was drafted by Montreal and then played with Atlanta and
Detroit. This past summer I was traded to the new expansion team in Las Vegas.”

“How’s that been?” she
asked. “I don’t follow them, but I remember thinking it was an odd place for a
hockey team.”

“It’s actually been
pretty cool. The city has really stepped up to welcome the team, we get a ton
of tourists at the games, believe it or not, and the guys I play with are stellar.
Really special group of guys—we’re like a family, and in the 11 years I’ve been
in the NHL, it’s never felt like this before.”

“That’s wonderful,” she
nodded. “That’s what my last unit was like. My ex-husband’s twin, Shay, and I
were best friends all through college. When we graduated, I married Clay and
got assigned to Quantico, and Shay deployed. A few years later, they put him in
charge of a top secret mission and he had to put together a special team. He
asked for me to be his security chief—that’s my specialty—and so he handpicked
our unit. It was a really great team.” She paused. “Obviously it didn’t end
well, but anyway, why are we talking about me again?”

“I like your voice,”
Drake said softly. “I like you. You’re pretty, you’re funny, and it seems like
you’ve been through hell, so I don’t mind listening. Plus, I have a confession
to make.”

“Uh-oh,” she looked at
him suspiciously.

“It’s not a big thing!”
he chuckled. “I noticed you and asked Mack who you were. She said I should come
over and ask you myself. Of course, I got suspicious and asked her why she
wouldn’t tell me who you were, and then I kind of guessed you were a patient,
but when I started moving your way, she stopped me and told me about the PTSD.
She said she was only telling me because—” He grimaced.

“Because?” she
prompted.

“She knows me well,” he
squirmed. “And I like women. Since my divorce—”

“Divorce! You didn’t
tell me
you
were divorced!” Erin frowned at him.

“I’ll tell you about
it,” he said solemnly. “Just let me explain. She told me about the PTSD so that
I wouldn’t try hooking up for the night. Don’t be mad—she knows there have been
a lot of women since I’ve been single and she didn’t want you to be a number.”

“It’s been so long
since I’ve had sex, I think being a number might be necessary,” she murmured,
before realizing what she’d said and turning red. “Crap, did I say that out
loud?”

“Yup.” He grinned. “But
honest, I noticed you first.
Then
she told me. It wasn’t intentional.”

“It’s fine.” She
shrugged and looked up expectantly. “Your turn.”

“Typical story.” He
shrugged. “She was a puck bunny.” It felt odd talking about his ex to someone;
he’d never talked about the divorce to anyone, but Erin seemed like exactly the
kind of girl he could talk about it to.

 “We met when we
were both 22, and I had been picked up by Atlanta. I met her at some charity
thing. She was a model, catalogs and such, and we hit it off. I was offered a
pretty good contract that year. Within the year, I bought her a massive
engagement ring and a Mercedes, and bought us a gorgeous condo in Buckhead.” He
shook his head. “
Then
we got married. And you know, spending all that
money would have been fine if she hadn’t done what she did.” He stared out at
the beautiful grounds in front of them.

“If it’s awful, you
don’t have to tell me,” she said gently, touching his forearm.

He glanced down at her.
“Seriously? After what you’ve been through? My story is a piece of cake. Just a
case of being young and stupid.” He shrugged. “We were married within a year. I
got picked up for two more years for two million dollars. We got married,
furnished our place and the nine months we dated plus the six months we were
married, were actually pretty good. We had fun. She was a model, but she wasn’t
stupid, and she liked to work out so we did that together. She traveled for her
work, and I traveled of course, so she wasn’t clingy or whiny when I was gone.
My parents didn’t love her, and her mom is a crazy drunk that we saw maybe
twice the whole time we were together, but we were a little family.” He looked
down at her and sighed. “And then I went on a 12-day road trip. I pulled a
groin muscle on the second day and flew home. I’d tried to call her but she
didn’t pick up so I just hung up and got on the plane—I was tired and in pain.

“I got home and the
condo was dark and quiet. Her car was in the garage, so while it was possible
someone had picked her up, it was odd that the alarm wasn’t on. I got into the
kitchen and turned on the lights. There were a bunch of papers on the counter,
along with some pain medications and one of those bracelets they give you when
you’re at the hospital. Her name was on it, and I stared at it, wondering how
she’d been at the hospital yesterday but hadn’t called me. So I looked at the
papers and I kept reading the words, but didn’t understand them. And then it
hit me. She’d had a D&C; fancy name for an abortion.”

“Oh, Drake.” She
winced. “You didn’t know she was pregnant?”

“Nope. And while I was
just 24 and we’d only been married six months, I was furious that she didn’t
even give me a choice, didn’t trust me enough to talk about it! I probably
would have agreed—neither of us was ready—but she didn’t even tell me. She
killed my kid without a second thought, and planned it perfectly so I’d be away
for 12 days and I’d never know.”

“Was the fight
terrible?”

“No.” He shook his
head. “I slept on the couch and when she got up in the morning she found me
there. She realized I knew what she’d done and tried to make excuses, saying
she couldn’t have a baby and all the stuff I knew she’d say. But I couldn’t
trust her anymore. I couldn’t even look at her. I told her to pack up her stuff
and go. I didn’t care about the ridiculous money I’d spent on her and told her
she could keep the ring and any of the wedding gifts she wanted, but the house
and furniture were mine. I told her if she fought me I’d tell the whole world
what she did. She left. I got divorce papers from her lawyer about a week later
with exactly what I’d said. No alimony since we were only married six months.
That was seven years ago and I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since.”

“And now you’re a bad
boy,” she said with a soft smile. “Who has lots of one-night stands.”

“Sometimes.” He grinned
sheepishly. “It’s not like a new girl every night, but it’s usually a few times
and then I move on. Women are hard, you know? I guess I’m telling the wrong
woman about that, though.”

“Men are hard too,” she
agreed sadly.

“But now we’re both
divorced, and we’re here.” He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers
between them. “Do you want to take a walk on the grounds or is it too cold?”

Erin didn’t know if she
was excited or incredibly nervous, but his touch was both sexy and comforting.
“No, I’m fine.” She let him lead her across the balcony, their hands linked
between them. She had no idea why she was holding hands with a man she’d only
known for half an hour, but something about him made her feel good for the
first time in a long time. It wasn’t just his good looks either; he seemed so
solid and reliable. It was kind of ridiculous to feel that way since she had no
idea what he was really like, but right now she didn’t want to think about it
and didn’t care anyway.

They made their way
across a path that wove around the country club. There were intermittent streetlights
that made it romantic instead of creepy, and while it was unseasonably warm for
this time of year in Chicago, it was still chilly. She had never really liked
the cold, but tonight it didn’t bother her. Maybe it was the man beside her or
the fact that it was the first time she’d gone out in over two years, but for
tonight she was happy to go with the flow, wherever it led her.

“So, what’s it like
being a hockey player?” she asked as they walked.

“I love it,” he said.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Are you a fan?”

“I am,” she nodded.
“Not a huge fan, but I follow the Capitals since I live outside of D.C., and we
used to go to a lot of games in college. It’s fast-paced, so I think it’s
exciting.”

“Do you play any
sports?”

“A little volleyball
and basketball,” she shrugged. “Before the accident anyway. Now I do mostly
strength-training and weight lifting, and I’ve been starting to run again. I
kind of stopped everything after I got back from Afghanistan.”

“What do you do for
fun?” he asked lightly.

“Not much,” she
admitted. “I haven’t been the same since the accident.”

“No boyfriends?” he
stopped walking, turning to look at her.

She shook her head
slowly. He made her nervous when he looked at her with his beautiful eyes that
were actually more amber than hazel now that she saw them up close. He was tall
and she could see his broad chest and muscular arms through his jacket. She had
the strangest urge to run her hands over his biceps so she forced herself to
focus on his face.

“What were you thinking
just now?” he asked, his voice a little huskier than before.

“I, uh,” she swallowed
hard. “I was just thinking that you have great shoulders. I like broad
shoulders.”

“I like tall brunettes
with blue eyes,” he murmured, moving his hands around her waist and pulling her
a little closer, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m broken,” she
whispered. “My body is hideous—truly. Tonight you see a lot of makeup, a fancy
dress and a mask, but it’s really bad. I also have PTSD and nightmares. I can’t
be alone for long periods of time. And there is absolutely no way I could take
my clothes off in front of you. I don’t have anything to offer a guy like you.”

He paused, confused as
to why he still wanted her after everything she’d told him; he just did. “I
still like you.”

“So you want to be
friends?” She glanced down to where his thumbs were making little circles
around her waist.

“I want to kiss you,”
he said softly. “But I don’t want to scare you away.”

“I’d like you to kiss
me,” she breathed softly. He lowered his head and his lips found hers; gently,
so much so that she reached up to pull his head closer. His tongue slipped
between her lips and found hers. For the first time in years she felt her
stomach flip over and her heart pound in her chest, in a good way. This was not
a panic attack—this was pure bliss. His touch was tender but sexy, encouraging
her in a way that made her want things she hadn’t even thought about in a long
time.