Blue Lines: The Assassins Series: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (51 page)

Since coming to Nashville eight months ago, he still hadn’t adjusted to dating in
the Music City. There was something different about the girls here than in his Swedish
homeland.
Maybe it was their accents, or his, but he always felt like an idiot. No matter how
much Lucas coached him on the art of picking up women, Tate couldn’t do it. He was
worried they would make fun of his accent or the gap between his teeth.

He was just becoming popular in the National Hockey League. Even though he was ranked
fifth in the NHL in goalie saves, he still wasn’t confident enough to walk up to a
woman.

But that was about to change.

When the beauty walked to the bar alone, he’d channeled his inner Lucas and made his
way toward her.

Tate couldn’t help but notice how sad she looked. She was petite, but he loved that.
After dating nothing but tall Swedish women, he was ready for a change. He liked that
she wasn’t bone thin either, and that she had hips and a nice round ass. When his
eyes fell on her large breasts, he was in heaven. There was something about big breasts
that did it for him. Call it cliché, but he loved big-breasted women.

As his eyes met her heavy-lidded, bright brown ones, he couldn’t help but smile. They
sparkled as a bright smile crossed her luscious, glossy lips. “Watching me, huh?”
she said now.

There was something uncommonly beautiful about her. Maybe it was the shape of her
face. Maybe it was her big beautiful eyes. Or maybe it was the absolute perfection
of her breasts. What it was, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted her.

Now.

Nothing was said as the two stood gazing into each other’s eyes. When Tate asked Lucas
to help him pick up women, he thought Lucas’s advice was going to make it easier for
him. He was completely wrong. He had spent the last four months listening to every
pickup line his friend gave him, but now he couldn’t think of even one. All he could
do was stare into the depths of her brown eyes. They were mesmerizing.

“You’re beautiful,” he finally said.

She bit into her bottom lip, and Tate’s grip on the bar tightened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I should be thanking you for gracing this world.”

Good one, he thought, as a blush dusted the beauty’s cheeks.

“Oooh, that was smooth,” she whispered. She lightly brushed her hand against his,
and Tate was convinced his hand was on fire. She must have felt it too, because she
gasped, moving her hand away quickly before looking up at him.

“I have to tell you,” she said with a shy grin, “it’s usually not this easy.”

He looked down at her. “Easy how?”

“This easy to pick me up. I usually make guys work for it.”

He grinned, and her smile widened. “So you want me too?”

She moved closer, her eyes dark with lust as she said, “I do, but I don’t even know
your name, though you do look kinda familiar …”

“Do you want to know my name?” he asked with a cocky grin. It was another line out
of Lucas’s book, and Tate couldn’t believe he remembered it. He was drunk and horny,
not a good combination when trying to pick up a woman. Especially one as gorgeous
as this one.

He expected her to nod, so when she shook it, stepping closer to him, he mentally
prayed he was ready for what she was about to say. Things were so much different in
the States than in Sweden. Back home all he would have to do was nod at a female and
she would be on him quicker than he could blink. He was a hockey god there. But not
here. He wasn’t used to feeling like he wasn’t good enough or that he couldn’t succeed,
and hated it. He knew his confidence would be broken if she told him to fuck off,
so he took a deep breath as she went toe-to-toe with him, her head only reaching to
his chest before she looked up.

“All I want to know is when you can leave,” she said. “I have a room not even a mile
from here.”

A slow grin spread across Tate’s face as his hands came to rest on her hips. She inhaled
sharply and brought her bottom lip between her teeth as she gazed up into his eyes.
He had never felt such a connection with a woman before. He wanted to push her up
against the bar and have his way with her right there.

Fast. And hard.

He had never in his twenty-one years felt the need to completely devour a woman, but
he did now. And if they didn’t leave fast, he was going to lose all control.

He didn’t hesitate, or even think, for that matter. “Let’s go.”

As they walked through the crowded bar together, hands locked, Tate couldn’t help
but thank God for Lucas Brooks.