Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2) (3 page)

She didn’t actually believe in God, at least not the one her fanatical parents espoused—the vengeful and hypocritical one her family professed was the One True God. If God did exist, she wanted to see that deity as a lot kinder than the one she’d grown up with.

Before Brody could disappoint her with some crack about genetics being the work of the devil, though, the deep rumbling approach of the train diverted them. She turned to watch the Metro North whoosh into the station, blowing cold air on her face.

As they boarded, he put a hand on the small of her back, helping her over the gap between train and platform, then guided her to open seats. She thought to dissuade him from the gentlemanly—and very unnecessary—behavior, but the rebellious part of her thrilled at having his hand on her.

Dangerous, that tingling of excitement.

All the way down the narrow aisle, random people high-fived Brody or commented on something to do with his team. He took all the comments and gestures good-naturedly, greeting the attention with a deep laugh and an infectious smile.

How could anyone be that happy all the time? It was contrary to everything she’d experienced in her life. And was so diametrically opposed to how she had to live.

She slid into a seat near a window on the side of the train that would be closest to the river, and Brody settled next to her, once again too close for a perfect stranger and yet somehow not really crowding her. His huge body took up so much room, though, she wondered in passing if he even fit in airplane seats.

Then the train jerked into motion and he leaned closer to look out the window. His nearness set her nerves tingling again. He smelled entirely too good. She could surround herself with his scent and live in it.

She swallowed hard and looked away from the side of his face, trying to ignore the way his nearness made her stomach dance. Their thighs touching didn’t help her ignore him.

“Genetics, huh?” he said as he sat back. “Research?”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Defensive, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was a knee-jerk reaction now, thanks to her family.

“What specifically are you looking at?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“My lab is studying the connection between telomere degradation and mutation rates in relation to age-specific disease progression.”

“Are you working on the cancer tie-ins as well or just studying the mechanisms of telomere degradation and how to prevent it?”

“Our lab is researching the relationship to cancer as well.” She frowned.

“That’s good research. If scientists find a way to prevent telomeres from getting too short, we’d have some good information for helping fight against aging and cancer. What do you think of the whole CRISPR/Cas9 technology? Ethically? Will it lead to designer babies or is it just a great new technique for studying the genome and repairing faulty gene sequences?”

She blinked a few times. “How on earth do you know about CRISPR?”

“I read. A lot.”

“On genetics?” That seemed hugely coincidental.

“On everything. Of the sciences, my particular cake is genetics and cosmology.”

“Why?”

“Aliens,” he said in that matter-of-fact, isn’t-it-obvious way.

“You believe in aliens?” That was worse than her parents.

“Don’t you? I mean, it seems pretty arrogant to assume of all the planets in all the galaxies in a vast universe that we’ve only got the barest understanding of that there’s not some other life somewhere. Even if it doesn’t look anything like what we think of as life. In fact, I’d be more surprised if we didn’t at least find microbes on other planets and moons than if we did.”

Her mouth dropped open a little and she had to snap it shut. Then she leaned back against the window to see him better. “This isn’t the conversation I was expecting from a hockey player.”

“Snob.” But he said it with a grin.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “You’re more enlightened than my family.”

“Tell that to my brother. He thinks I’m a lunatic. Wait, I take that back. I don’t want you to meet him. Not yet. You might like him better than me, and then I’d have to kick his ass.”

She huffed an unexpected half-laugh, then pressed her lips together, surprised by her amusement.

His gaze dipped to her mouth, just long enough for her to feel the look like an actual touch.

“One of these days,” he said, “I’m going to get a full blown laugh out of you. And that will be a glorious day.”

“What if I snort when I laugh?”

“Even better.”

“You’re a very strange man, Mr. Evans.”

“We’re on a date. Call me Brody or you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Tough. Brody. Say it.”

“Brody.” She frowned. “We’re on a date already?”

“Of course. What do you think this is?”

“Getting back into town. Then lunch.”

“Which is what we here in New York call a date.”

She scowled at the slight condescension. But since she probably deserved it, she let it pass. “Are you from New York originally?”

“Nope. Northern California. Nevada City. We got out as soon as possible.”

“We?”

“Connor, my brother, and I. Nevada City is a great little town, but we’re both more big city boys.”

“Why didn’t you move to San Francisco?”

“We did for a few years—college. But Connor needed to be here for work.”

“What does your brother do?”

“He’s a financial genius. Billionaire.”

He said the billionaire part so casually, as if it was something people managed to achieve all the time. “So young?”

“You assume we’re young?”

“Your comment about Alex earlier,” she reminded him.

He grinned. “Caught. He’s pretty young to be a billionaire, I guess. No gray ties, though.”

“What do gray ties have to do with anything?”

“Don’t read a lot of fiction, do you?”

“Not really. I prefer nonfiction.”

“Probably best you don’t get that reference. We don’t know each other well enough for conversations about kinky sex.”

“What kind of books do you read?” Her head spun, and she had to grip the armrest to get her balance.

“I told you. I read everything.”

“OK.”

The heated look in his gaze sent a hot little spark of desire through her gut. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she suspected this line of conversation would get her even deeper into trouble, so she went back to something she hoped was safe.

“Your brother must be very good at what he does.”

“Oh, he is. And you definitely can’t meet him now.”

“Why is now different?”

“You’re showing interest in him. You’d probably like him. Which means I’m not introducing you two any time soon.”

She wasn’t even remotely sure how to respond to him. Especially because his pretend jealousy and possessiveness pleased her. She didn’t understand that reaction. It didn’t make sense. But very little about her encounter with Brody did.

“What brought you to New York?” she asked, scrambling for something like solid ground in this conversation. “Did you move with your brother?”

“No. I was in Connecticut first, with my AHL team. Then New York when the Empires brought me up.”

“So you and your brother are here coincidentally?”

“Mostly. He could move if he wanted to, but he likes me too much.”

“Are you sure?”

He laughed, loudly. Again. The sound attracted the attention of other passengers, but Brody didn’t seem to notice.

“He has to,” he said. “He’s my twin. But you need to stop talking about him now. Get back to talking about me.”

She was close enough to laughing at his over-the-top arrogance, she did change the subject. “Where are we going to eat?” she asked.

“Steak house in midtown. Fantastic food. You’ll love it. You do like steak, right?”

“I like all food.” It was one of the few indulgences she could manage without risking the fire, which meant she didn’t deny herself the pleasures of good food often. Fortunately, her metabolism was high. She was curvy but managed to maintain her weight without extreme dieting.

Which was good because she wasn’t sure she could face denying herself anything else that was supposed to be natural and enjoyable to humans.

She’d already had to shut off too much.

The ride into Grand Central Station went a lot quicker than Ann expected. Brody kept up a steady conversation that, while it knocked her off balance, never seemed awkward or forced. She really envied his easygoing nature.

Once on the street, he hailed a taxi. They reached the restaurant in only ten minutes, and when she offered to pay for the ride, Brody refused her money.

“I’m old fashioned. The man pays when he takes a woman out. Besides, I’m trying to impress you.” He got out of the taxi and then reached back, offering his hand to help her out.

She risked touching him because she wanted to more than she needed help.

“I’m still not entirely sure why you’d want to impress me,” she said as the taxi eased back into traffic.

He tilted his head and gave her a quizzical look.

The Midtown sidewalk was crowded with people rushing about, women and men in suits hurrying to some business, tourists in their casual clothes stopping in the middle of the pedestrian traffic to stare at a building, a few extremely well-dressed and tall women Ann assumed were models, delivery workers pushing carts piled with boxes. The area smelled like New York to Ann, from the nearby cart selling kebabs, to the scent of exhaust from heavy traffic, a few undercurrents of things less pleasant, and a faint hint of heated concrete, despite the cool, late afternoon air.

She knew she and Brody were causing a block in the flow of pedestrian movement, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stared at her as the crowd parted around them, the noise of car horns and people talking wafting past.

“You don’t have any idea how attractive you are, do you?” he asked quietly, and more seriously than almost anything else he’d said to this point.

She glanced away, making a study of the front of the restaurant. His attention, his stare left her uncomfortable on levels she didn’t care to think about.

She nodded at the restaurant and forced a casual smile, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Shall we go in?”

Lunch was delicious and, to her surprise, a lot of fun. True to his word, he was never awkward and because of that she managed to relax, too. The staff at the restaurant knew him and treated him like an honored guest, but he took it so easily and with such good humor, it didn’t come across as obnoxious.

She wasn’t sure what to think of the looks she got from the staff, or the wink from the head chef when he’d come out to say hi to Brody. She spent so much of her time trying to avoid attention, it was more than a little disconcerting to have so much focused on them.

Yet Brody managed to spin it all into a fun and casual atmosphere.

By the time he forced a dessert on her—which didn’t take a lot of convincing—she’d forgotten to worry about her emotions, or the fire, or much of anything else. She lost herself in the moment, smiling more than she could remember ever doing in her life.

She was so caught up in his charm and humor, so distracted by the sexy tug at one corner of his mouth when he watched her eat, and the way he filled out his long sleeved shirt, giving her a spectacular view of thick, tempting muscles, she didn’t notice the warmth in her palms or the tingling along her fingers. She didn’t feel the subtle heat building, or the warning flutter of sensation down her arms.

Until she glanced at the water glass she held in one hand. The water was just starting to boil.

Gasping, Ann pushed back from the table.

“I…I’m sorry.”

She darted out of the restaurant so fast, she forgot her coat and purse. In her panic, she didn’t even care. She had to get outside, into the cool October air, away from Brody’s scent and presence. She had to get herself under control.

He joined her on the sidewalk, where she stood with her hands fisted, taking long, slow breaths. It was early evening now and lights were winking on along the street and in the nearby buildings. She focused on the cold air, the approaching night, the sounds of people and cars. She tried not to feel Brody step up close behind her.

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you OK?”

He settled one of his large hands on her shoulder and she flinched, then shifted away.

“Please. I need just a few minutes. I can’t…”

She felt like a fool. How could she explain? She knew her departure from the restaurant made no sense. But she could still feel the heat in her palms, the pulse of the fire in her fingertips. Her skin was so warm, even the sharp bite of the evening wind didn’t touch her.

She’d spent her entire life suppressing emotion to keep her fire under control. Why had she dropped her guard? She knew better. She had to get away from Brody Evans.

Before she killed someone.

Without really paying attention to where she was going, she turned down the street. Foot traffic was still heavy as business people hurrying home flooded the sidewalks. She wove through the crowds, working hard to avoid touching anyone. Something in her expression must have given warning, because most people moved out of her way.

She was aware of Brody following her, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

“We didn’t dine and dash just now, did we?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I paid before I followed you. Can we talk about what happened?”

“No.”

When she felt his fingers brush her arm, she jerked away again. “Please, don’t touch me right now.”

“Ann. Damn it, stop walking and talk to me. I thought we were having a nice time.”

“We were. Too nice. I need to go.” She reached for a purse that wasn’t there and finally stopped. When she faced him, he was holding her bag and coat out to her, a little crease between his brows.

She was sure she’d ruined whatever good feelings he had for her, and she regretted that. She’d never met a man who made her feel so at ease and charmed all at once. But better he think her a bitch than she hurt him with the flames.