“Yep.” She smiled again, then glanced at Declan. “See you later.”

  He was still standing, and he still smelled great. And those brown eyes of his, locked on hers, were hard to look away from.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  “No,” she said automatically. “I parked valet.”

  She should have known that her protest was futile. At least with Declan.

  “Great to meet you, Camila.” Trane rose to his feet and shook her hand.

  “You too,” she said. “Good luck with your next games. Unless you’re playing the Chargers again.”

  Trane laughed, and Camila released his hand.

  Sure enough, she left the table, and Declan was right behind her.

  She waved at a couple of guys on her way out, feeling their eyes follow her progress. So the dress had put her in a different light maybe, but nothing much had changed. Unless she counted that kiss.

  Without a word to Declan, or him saying anything, she headed out of the restaurant. She handed her ticket to the valet outside, then folded her arms as he took off at a jog to go fetch her car.

  “Can we talk?” Declan said in a quiet voice.

  Yeah. He was standing right next to her, in his tough-guy stance.

  “About?”

  “About what happened back there.”

  She finally looked at him. He was standing too close for her pulse to not be affected. But she ignored all the fluttering and zooming. “Which part? The part where you acted like a complete Neanderthal around Todd and Trane or the part where you marched me down the hall?”

  His lips parted in surprise.

  “Or when you told me you weren’t like other guys, yet you kissed me anyway?”

  His eyes flashed, but his voice was perfectly even when he said, “You grabbed my shirt.”

  “You touched me first.”

  They stared at each other in a deadlock.

  “Should I apologize?” he whispered.

  Her breath stalled. Then she released it very slowly. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  The sound of an engine caught her attention. Her car had arrived, and the valet climbed out. She turned from Declan, because she needed to breathe. Needed to think. She climbed into her car. Shut the door. Clipped on her seatbelt. All mechanical things that she didn’t need to think about.

  But her peripheral vision told her that Declan was standing there, watching her drive away. Yet she didn’t look, at least not until she reached the end of the parking lot. Only then did she look back.

  He remained near the doors, one hand in his pocket, his posture straight. Like a sentinel.

  A slow bud of warmth unfurled inside of her. This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. She couldn’t be interested in Declan Rivera. He might say that he was different from other guys, but really, her dad was his boss. And he’d been benched that night. And other times. Usually that was the first sign of coming up for a trade.

  Had it been her dress? Was Declan like every other guy she’d gone out with? Saw her as arm candy? Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t the case. Which made this doubly hard and confusing. She liked Declan.

  And tomorrow she’d be spending all day with his mom.

  “If I’m not back before you leave, be sure to set out her cat food.”

  “Got it, Mom,” Declan said, possibly for the tenth time that morning. His mother was keyed up, and it was a good thing, in his mind. She was looking forward to being with Camila, and despite Declan’s bruised ego, he was glad of it. Which only made her silence harder to stomach.

  He’d called her last night about an hour after she’d driven off. No answer. He chalked that up to it being late at night, but he’d left a voice message. A rambling one. But he didn’t care. He’d always prided himself on keeping his instincts in check, except on the ice of course. There his instincts could win or lose a game.

  But kissing Camila last night was definitely not planned. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. More than once. Okay, so every time he was around her. He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit that to himself at least.

  And it wasn’t her dress, no. It was her. She was both vulnerable and strong. Said what was on her mind. Forgave. Worked hard. And her smile . . . got to him every time.

  “Son, did you hear me?”

  “What?” He turned from where he’d been watching out the window. For Camila. Yeah.

  “Princess likes ice in her water,” she said.

  “I know.” He did know, but he was definitely going to earn an award in patience today. Both with his mother and the fact that Camila had been parked outside the condo for at least five minutes but had yet to get out of her car. Was she going to honk or something? Maybe change her mind?

  “Oh,” his mom said, checking her phone. “Looks like she’s already here and wants me to come down.”

  Declan felt like he’d been socked in the gut. Camila wouldn’t even walk up to his condo? He didn’t know whether to be pissed or to laugh. She was beyond his scope of understanding, apparently.

  “Have a nice time, Mom,” he said, bending to kiss his mother’s flushed cheek.

  She’d been running around all morning doing who knew what.

  “I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?” he continued. “Don’t hesitate to call me. And remember, Mrs. Jensen is only two doors down.” He’d been sure to introduce his mom to other residents in his condo complex. He’d be traveling off and on, and he didn’t want her to claim she didn’t know anyone and become a hermit.

  “Travel safe,” his mom said, patting him on the arm. “And be careful with that shoulder.”

  Yeah, a mom thing to say. “It’s fine.” Not completely free from pain, but he wouldn’t tell the trainer that, or he’d be benched at their away games.

  “Remember before you leave that Princess needs—”

  “I got it, promise,” Declan said with a tight smile.

  “All right, thank you.” His mom shouldered her purse, then headed out the door. To the parking lot, where Camila was sitting in her car.

  Declan moved back to the kitchen to watch her get out of her car and greet his mom with a hug, then make sure she got settled. Huh. Apparently her avoidance of the Rivera family only extended to him. He folded his arms as she walked around the car to get into the driver’s side. No hat today. Her hair was braided down the middle of her back, and her jeans, well . . . they certainly weren’t baggy.

  He exhaled as the car drove away.

  Then he turned from the window. His gaze met that of a forlorn cat. Princess perched on the kitchen counter, her blue eyes dejected.

  Meow.

  “You feel abandoned too?” he said. And now . . . he was talking to the cat. Princess didn’t move as he approached. He patted her head softly. Her eyes closed, so he stroked the top of her head a little.

  A small rumble sounded from her furry body.

  “Well, well, well,” Declan murmured. “I guess I’m not so bad when it’s just us, right?” He calculated the hours that Princess would have the place to herself after he left and before his mom returned. How many things would she shred? Already, the blinds in the living room were significantly bent, and the edge of his leather couch contained more than a few claw marks.

  “She’s just exploring her territory,” his mom had said after gently chastising Princess.

  But right now, the little creature was dissolving some of the stress Declan was feeling over Camila. She hadn’t canceled on his mom, so that was saying something, right? He had to hold onto that until she deigned to speak to him again. From somewhere in the living room, his phone rang, and he left the purring kitty to go fetch it.

  “Hi, Bree,” Declan said into his cell once he located it.

  “What’s up, Dice?”

  “Not much,” he deadpanned.

  She laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re traveling today, right?”

  “Yep, heading out to play the Florida Ducks.”

  “When do you fly back in?”

  “Sunday night, so don’t worry, I’ll be at the video shoot bright and early Monday morning.”

  Bree’s laugh was soft. “Great, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

  Declan had wandered back into the kitchen. He was feeling hungry finally. He’d skipped breakfast this morning because his stomach had been in knots after his run. After opening the fridge, he pulled out the orange juice.

  Meow.

  “Was that a cat?” Bree said.

  “Yeah, it’s Princess,” Declan said, searching for a glass. Had his mom rearranged the cupboards again? “My mom’s staying with me while she looks for her own place.”

  “I know, Camila told me.”

  Declan stilled at this. “She did?”

  “Yeah, and I like her,” Bree said. “I just wanted you to know that.”

  “My mom?” There were the glasses. Had she bought new ones?

  “Camila,” Bree said with a scoff.

  “Oh.” Declan poured the juice, then fetched the bagels and opened the sack.

  Princess was watching everything he did intently. And she was in his way. “Shoo,” he said. “Sorry, that was to the cat, not you.”

  “She’s sweet,” Bree said.

  “Um, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “She shredded a hole in my shower curtain the other day even though she knows both my bedroom and bathroom are off-limits.”

  “The cat?”

  “Who did you think I was talking about?”

  “Well, I was talking about Camila, not your mom or your cat,” Bree said.

  Declan found the cream cheese in the fridge, and the second he opened it, Princess trotted over. “What about her?”

  “She’s sweet, and I think you need to stop being so obtuse.”

  Princess was staring at the cream cheese as if it was her heart’s greatest desire. “You want some of this, Princess?”

  He dabbed his finger into the cream cheese and held it out to the cat. She licked it off his finger with her raspy tongue. Yep, he’d just become that person. Hand-feeding a cat.

  “Declan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You should ask her out,” Bree said. “You know, be decent about the whole thing. You don’t just kiss a girl and not qualify your intentions.”

  Declan froze. “Wait, what?”

  “I said—”

  “I heard what you said, but how the hell do you know I kissed Camila?”

  “Easy, tiger,” Bree said, laughter in her tone again. “She told me, but before you get all worked up, I found out from Trane. Well, he didn’t know for sure, but he’s pretty good at guessing. Because when I talked to Camila this morning, all it took was a couple of leading questions before she confessed.”

  “Hold up.” Declan turned from the counter, not caring that Princess had started to lick the cream cheese right from the container. She could have all of it as far as he was concerned. “You talked to Trane and Camila? When?”

  Bree cleared her throat. Her voice was much more tentative now. “I called the guys last night to confirm the times, and Trane and I got talking when I asked how things went with the game last night between your teams. He said that you’d won it for them, and he was pretty sure you were smitten with Camila—”

  “Smitten,” Declan deadpanned. “Trane would not use that word.” His head was buzzing with questions and emotions that he couldn’t identify. When had whatever happened between him and Camila become a topic of discussion for anyone?

  “Well, maybe he said ‘jacked up,’” Bree said. “Whatever. So when I talked to Camila this morning, I asked her why she sounded so tired.”

  At this, Declan sank into a chair at the table. Waiting. “And . . .”

  “And she said she had to ask me something off the record,” Bree continued. “She wanted to know about your past relationships with women. Do you date a lot? Have you ever been serious with someone? Are you a player?”

  “And . . .” Declan prompted again.

  “So, I asked why all the questions, and she told me that you’d kissed her last night. She was trying to figure out why and what it meant.”

  Declan blew out a breath. “I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t have any of it.”

  “Yeah, she told me that too,” Bree said. “I think she needed time to think; you know, she went through a rough breakup a few months ago. The guy messed with her head. He’s a hockey player, and he was only interested in her connections and money. Well, her dad bringing him to Denver. It’s one reason she doesn’t date hockey players.”

  Declan closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Who was it?”

  “She didn’t name him.”

  “I’ll kick his a—”

  “Declan, that’s all beside the point.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Then what is the point?”

  “Don’t be that guy,” Bree said in a soft voice. “The guy who takes and never gives. Are you worried about your contract or something? Hoping that getting in good with the boss’s daughter will secure your career?”

  Heat collided with anger in Declan’s chest. “The fact that you’d even ask really pisses me off.”

  “Whoa, Dice,” Bree shot out. “It has to be asked, and I’m asking it. Unless you want Camila to.”

  Declan was on his feet, pacing the kitchen. Princess looked up at him, then went back to her cream cheese.

  “No, absolutely not,” Declan said. “And if she thinks so, then I guess I’ve royally screwed up.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Bree sighed. “Look, she’s doing her due diligence, I think. Maybe you should ask her about her past relationships. I mean, if you’re interested in more than a kiss in a storage room.”

  It sounded like Camila hadn’t held back much information. For some reason his anger had dissipated. He didn’t know what his intentions had been fully, but if Camila would agree, he’d like to take her out. Get to know her outside the hockey setting. Maybe see if there was anything to explore between them.

  He released a slow breath. “I’m interested in more.” The moment he said it, the idea became more concrete. Yeah, Camila was usually the type of woman he stayed away from. The high-maintenance type was enough to drive a regular guy batty. But he now knew that she was different. Learning more about her upbringing last night had solidified in his mind that she was more down-to-earth than her internet pictures showed.

  “Well, that’s good to know,” Bree said. “Make sure you tell Camila that too.”

  His nod was slow even though Bree couldn’t see him. “What else were you calling for?”

  “That was pretty much it,” Bree said. “Camila has been amazing, and everything is coming together nicely. As long as we don’t hit a snag, things should run smoothly come Monday.”

  “Great to hear,” Declan said as Princess took it upon herself to rub against his legs, while doing that purring thing again.

  “See you soon,” Bree said before clicking off.

  Declan sat at the table for a moment, thinking. He should really eat something, then pack, although the bagels and cream cheese were now out of the picture. Maybe he could grab food on the way. First, though, he had a phone call to make.

  “Am I in trouble?” Trane answered on the second ring.

  “Dead,” Declan said. “But I’ll take care of that on Monday.”

  Trane chuckled. “Sorry, man, but you know how persistent Bree Stone is. I mean, she’s a pit bull.”

  “Whatever, Diesel. You know I don’t like people in my business.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Trane said. “But Camila isn’t business, is she? I mean, I’d have to be blindfolded not to notice how you look at her. And when the two of you returned, it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened.”

  “Okay, so I kissed her.” Declan paused. “A lot. But keep this out of the Pit. All I need is for everyone to act weird around her on Monday.”

  “How much?”

  “How much what?” Declan ground out.

  “I need a little bribery.”

  Declan scoffed, but he was smiling. “Shut up.”

  “Okay, I’m giving you a break this once,” Trane said. “But you’re the one who won’t be able to keep this secret.”

  “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

  Trane laughed.

  Declan rose from the table. “Gotta go. Heading out for a flight.”

  Camila led Mrs. Rivera into the nail salon, a quaint but posh place that Camila and Paige had found during their college days.

  “Oh, there you are,” Paige greeted, nodding from where she was getting her nails done.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Camila said, then introduced Paige to Mrs. Rivera. Camila had decided the more people she introduced Declan’s mom to, the more she’d feel connected to the city of Denver.

  “We have your reservation,” a petite woman said, her dark, bobbed hair framing her pretty face.

  “Thank you,” Camila said, and she and Mrs. Rivera walked to the two pedicure stations.

  While they waited for the heated water to fill the tubs, Paige asked, “How was your tour, Mrs. Rivera?”

  “It was wonderful,” she gushed. “Camila knows everyone in the city, and did you know we got a discount on our lunch, and a free dessert?”

  Camila held back a smile. Mrs. Rivera spent a lot of time talking about prices and discounts.

  “Oh, wow,” Paige said with a wide smile. “That’s great.”

  Mrs. Rivera continued to tell Paige about the hair salon they’d visited and how they’d promised her 25 percent off should she return and mention Camila’s name.

  “Then we went to a craft fair, indoors,” Mrs. Rivera said. “I couldn’t believe the creativity, and there was a quilt I would love to have. But it was four hundred dollars. Can you imagine?”

  Paige smiled.

  “So Camila suggested that I take pictures and copy it,” Mrs. Rivera said. “I haven’t quilted for years, but maybe I’ll take it up again.”

  “You know, my grandmother is part of a quilters group,” Paige said. “They meet twice a week and rotate through each other’s projects. You might check them out.”

  Mrs. Rivera’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “I would love that.”

 

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