OneManAdvantage (6 page)

Too bad they were losing.

It
was
against the defending Stanley Cup champions,
but it wasn’t a great start for Logan. Although he himself was playing well.
From the press box, she watched him take a face-off in the neutral zone,
control the puck and race the length of the ice to beat the Pittsburgh
goaltender on the glove side, sending the crowd into a frenzy. She smiled.

The next time she looked, he was being checked hard into the
boards by a Pittsburgh player, and she winced.

Obviously one player wasn’t going to turn things around for
the team immediately, but she could see subtle differences. Some of the players
who’d been lackadaisical lately seemed to have more energy, more fire. Scott
had put Logan on a line with Dewey and Tyler, as Fedor had suggested. It was going
okay, but she still thought it would work better with Adam instead of Tyler.
But then she wasn’t the coach. She was just the Communications Assistant.

Logan came
that
close to scoring again near the end
of the third period, and even though the Caribou pulled their goalie in the
last minutes of the game, they lost three-two. But there was reason for
optimism based on some of the action, so although the game went in the loss
column, it didn’t feel horrible. At least to Nicole. She couldn’t help but wonder
how Logan was feeling after his first game. But she wasn’t going to seek him
out to ask. No, she was not.

The next afternoon, she watched Logan posing in front of the
camera for headshots, the photographer’s lights shining down on him in the
photography studio. Team photographer Ryan Sender chatted with Logan as he
shot, talking about―what else?―hockey. They talked about the loss last night
and Logan didn’t seem too broken up about it. He seemed to be a pretty
easygoing guy, yet she kept getting glimpses of something beneath the surface.
His nearly constant smile, easy laugh and nonchalance on the outside made him
seem carefree and charming, but she sensed that he used that charming exterior
to cover up something else. Obviously he had to be serious about his career,
about hockey. He wasn’t all about fun and games, despite the jokes and smiles.
He had to have passion for the game and a determination to succeed, to get
where he was. She’d seen hints of that passion and determination in his eyes,
when he looked at her…okay
that
wasn’t for hockey.

In the last few days, she’d spent a lot of time with both
Ryan and Logan. Ryan was a good-looking guy, possibly even more handsome than
Logan, but she’d never felt all tingly around him like she did around Logan. It
was really getting annoying.

But the important thing was, she was resisting temptation.
Difficult as it was being around him, she had managed to keep things
businesslike. She’d scheduled photo shoots, interviews, press conferences, all
the while acting coolly professional and distant. She could totally do this.

“Okay,” Ryan said, looking down at the screen on his digital
camera. “I think we’re good.”

Nicole straightened from the counter she’d been leaning
against to watch the shoot. “Great. When can you get me the images?”

“I’ll work on them for the rest of the day. Should be able
to upload them for you to look at tomorrow.”

“Perfect. We want to get the billboards done as soon as we
can. Thanks for doing this so quickly, Ryan. And the headshots too, for the programs
and the website.”

“Not a problem.”

“We’re off now to look at some lofts,” she said as she
reached for her jacket. “Trying to find a place for Logan.”

To her surprise, Logan took her jacket and held it for her
to slide her arms into. He gently settled it on her shoulders, then grabbed his
own black leather jacket. “Thanks,” she said, now tingling even more, impressed
with his manners.

“Good to meet you, Ryan,” Logan said.

“Yeah. Again, welcome to Minneapolis.”

They took the elevator down from the third-floor studio and
then walked out the building lobby onto the street. A few snowflakes had
started to drift down from the overcast sky, big fluffy flakes. Nicole turned
her face up to them.

“Snow,” Logan said. “Great.”

“I guess you didn’t have much snow in California.”

“No. But I’m used to snow. And it’s not as if I never left
California.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of travel involved in hockey. You grew
up in Winnipeg, right?”

“Yep.”

“So you’re pretty close to home here.”

“Yeah. My parents are thrilled.” The wry smile he sent her
made her heart bump a little in her chest. He flicked a button on a key fob and
the lights blinked on the brand-new Jeep he’d parked at the curb. Again he
surprised her by opening her door for her and offering a hand to climb into the
high vehicle. She didn’t need help, she had long enough legs, but his manners
made her chest go all warm and soft.

“Where to?” he asked once he was in and had his seat belt
on.

“I’ll give you directions.” She looked down at the
information she’d printed out. She had three places lined up for them to see.
“The first one’s not far from here.”

“So yeah, I’m used to snow,” he said, picking up the
conversation again. “Where did you grow up? I guess Montreal mostly?”

“Yes. We lived there until I was sixteen and Dad got traded
to New York. But I went back to Montreal to go to university.”

“You speak French?”

She laughed. “Of course. Have you heard my dad’s English?”

He grinned. “Yeah. But you don’t have an accent at all, you
speak perfect English too.”

“Well, I grew up in a bilingual home. My mom speaks English.
My brother and I went to French schools, but we mostly spoke English at home.
Well, my dad tried. And then of course we had to go to an English-speaking high
school in New York.”

“What did you major in?”

“Communications. Hence the job in communications,” she
pointed out.

“Of course. I majored in Economics.”

Her head whipped around to stare at him. “Economics?
Seriously?”

He shot her a look, one corner of his mouth lifted in a
crooked smile. “Don’t sound so shocked.”

“I’m not! Okay, I am.”

He laughed.

“Do you have a degree?” she asked.

“Yep, from Dartmouth College.”

“Oh! Did you play NCAA there?”

“I did.”

“I didn’t realize that.” A degree in economics. Whoa.
Suddenly—weirdly—he was even more attractive.

“My brothers both got into the NHL through major junior
hockey. Jase wasn’t much into school, so there was no way he was going to
university. My parents practically killed themselves getting him to graduate
from high school.”

“That’s good they did,” she said.

“Yeah. And Tag was smart―not that Jase isn’t,” he quickly
added. “But he has ADD, so school was hard for him.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Good for him for graduating then. Um,
turn right at those lights ahead.”

“Tag just wanted to play pro hockey as fast as he could,”
Logan continued, doing a shoulder check to change lanes. “And they wanted him
as fast as they could get him, so he was playing for Phoenix when he was
eighteen.”

“That’s really young.”

“It is. But he was always mature, and he had the skills. He
was ready. I wasn’t.”

She shifted in her seat a little to look at him.
Câlisse
,
he looked good, his big hands easy on the steering wheel. In profile, the small
bump on his nose was more evident. No doubt broken at some point in his hockey
career. She wanted to know more about him. “No?”

“I mean, I wanted it. I just wasn’t as mature as Tag was at
that age. I was bigger than him, though.” He grinned. “And I liked the idea of
getting an education too. In case the hockey thing didn’t work out.”

“Was there ever any doubt about that?” With the talent in
his family, it seemed crazy that he might have thought he might not make it as
a pro hockey player.

He huffed a laugh. “You never know.”

“Was there a lot of pressure on you to make it?” she asked
slowly, thinking again about those two older brothers in the NHL.

His face tightened, barely noticeably, but she caught it.
Her interest was piqued even more. Not that she should be interested in him.
“My parents never pushed it,” he said. “They tried to be encouraging. I mean,
they
were
encouraging. But even so, yeah, I felt pressure.”

She nodded. “I guess I can relate to that,” she said slowly.
“Sort of. My brother Julien was definitely a lot to live up to.” As were both
her parents.

“He’s a good player.”

“He is.” She couldn’t deny that, and she loved her brother
and was proud of him. “But all their focus was on him and his hockey career.”

He stopped as the light turned red and glanced at her. Their
eyes met. “Yeah. I know the feeling,” he said quietly and the connection
between them stretched out warm and palpable. She swallowed, unable to break
eye contact with him.

Chapter Six

Logan broke the eye contact, checking to his left for
traffic, then made the right turn.

“It’s a few blocks down,” she said, a little breathless.
“I’ll watch for the sign.”
Merde
, it was happening again, that crazy
feeling of being drawn to him. She’d been fighting it all week, but now it had
roared back to life, just talking to him about mundane things like college and
family.

“Okay. I guess I was lucky that my parents encouraged me,”
he said. “That sucks that your parents wouldn’t encourage you to do what you
wanted.”

“Yeah. But whatever.” She waved a hand. “I’m happy doing
what I do now. Mostly.” She couldn’t stop from adding that little disclaimer
after what had happened last week.

“I can tell. You seem very efficient and you know the
business.”

She grimaced although she was touched. “Thanks.” After a
short pause, she said, “Too bad about the loss last night.”

He shrugged. “You win some, you lose some.”

“Very original.”

He smiled, still looking ahead through the windshield as he
drove. “I can speak in sports clichés with the best of them. We didn’t play a
full sixty minutes. We have to find a way to put the puck in the net. Generate
some offense. Everyone needs to give a hundred and ten percent. At the end of
the day, it is what it is, going forward.”

Nicole burst out laughing. Oh man! “Seriously,” she gasped
once she’d stopped laughing. “How did you feel last night?”

“I felt good.”

“Really?”

“No.” He slanted her a glance. “I’m trying to be positive.
It wasn’t bad. Just different. It’s going to take a while for me to get used to
things—new coach, new teammates, new building.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will. You played well, though. That goal
was pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“You and Scott get along?”

“Yeah. So far. He’s great.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

He glanced at her again. “Apparently I’m not doing a good
job of acting happy about this.”

She tipped her head to one side. He
was
doing a good
job of it, any time she saw him with other people, but the few times they’d
talked about it, she’d sensed his frustration. This must be hard for him. She’d
been all wrapped up in her own problems and embarrassment, but he was going
through a major life change. She knew how important it was that a player have a
good relationship with his coach and how long it could take to adapt to a new
coaching style, a new personality. Plus, there was getting to know all the
other players and finding his place on the team. And then all the personal
stuff, like finding a place to live. And buying this mondo spiffy vehicle he’d
driven them to the photo shoot in. She swallowed a sigh.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I know this is hard for you.”

His lips pursed briefly. “Nah,” he said. “It’s all good.”

She didn’t believe him. “Oh, right there,” she said,
pointing. “Turn right into this parking lot.”

She studied the converted warehouse adjacent to World Market
Square, all old brick and arched windows.

“Looks nice,” he commented, pulling into a parking spot.

“It does. There’s a gym across the street and a park just
behind the building. And of course you’re close to World Market Square, which
is quite a neat market.”

“Price?”

She bit her lip. “There are only a couple of units
available. One is eight hundred thousand, the other is one point two million.”

“Which are we looking at?”

“I thought the one point two million one.”

He nodded without even flinching at the numbers. “Okay.”

Inside the building they were met by the realtor, who took
them up to the seventh floor out of eight. They walked into the loft, the
ten-foot ceilings giving an open feel. Dark wood floors gleamed in the sunshine
that streamed in floor-to-ceiling windows. The two walls of windows met in one
corner of the living room, giving an incredible view of the city. A door in the
wall of windows led to a balcony, which was where Logan headed first.

Nicole followed, looking around. It wasn’t going to be her
place, but she studied it anyway, taking in the modern black fireplace set into
old brick, halogen lights on tracks suspended from the ceiling, matte taupe
walls with pristine white baseboards.

“There’s a powder room here,” the realtor, Mary, showed
them. “And the bedroom and bathroom are through there.” She indicated an
opening in the wall beside the fireplace. Logan wandered in there, and she
hesitated. Did she really need to see the bedroom?

No, she did not.

So she hung around in the main open area, a kitchen, living-
and dining-room combination.

“Hey, Nicole,” Logan called. “Come see.”

She bit her lip and walked to the bedroom. It too was
spacious and full of light.

“Lots of room for a king-size bed,” he said. “Which I need.”

Of course he did.

“And it would be so easy to hang a swing from those beams.”

Her heart missed a beat and she gaped at him. “Whaat?”

He laughed. “You should see the look on your face!” He
slapped his thigh, still chuckling.

Why had he said that? Was he joking? Or did he know
something…how could he?

“And the bathroom’s great,” he said, moving away. “Check it
out.”

Disoriented, she peeked in and did have to give a little
sigh of pleasure. This place put her little condo to shame. Ceramic tiles in
shades of latte, cream and mocha covered floor and walls, including a huge
glassed-in shower and a big soaker tub.

“Let’s see the kitchen,” he said, heading out. Again, she
trailed along behind.

The kitchen featured maple cabinets, dark granite
countertops and stainless appliances.

“Looks good,” Logan said.

“Closets?” she asked. “Do you want to know about laundry?
Storage?”

He grinned. “Oh yeah. I guess I should.”

The realtor spent some time showing them more features, and
then they left. “I like the windows of that one,” he said when they were back
in his Jeep. “Lots of light. I should just take it.”

“You need to look at more than one!”

“Why? I know I like it.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “But you haven’t seen
anything else! What if they’re better?”

“Oh, all right. Let’s go.”

Must be a man thing. She shook her head.

They spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the others
she’d picked out to see, also lovely, one in a much newer building, the other
in another historic building in the Midtown Exchange that had a similar feel to
the first one.

“Yeah, I like that first one,” Logan said. “Let’s go back.”

“I’ll call the realtor,” she explained. “You’ll need to meet
with her.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to look at more? It’s a big
decision. You might want to check out other neighborhoods…”

“I’m hardly ever home,” he said. “We’re on the road a lot.
In the summer I go home. It doesn’t really matter where I live.”

“As long as the ceiling will support a swing.”

A surprised laugh popped out of him. His dancing eyes met
hers. “Noooo,” he said. “Don’t be silly.”

She lifted one eyebrow.

“I’m not really into swings. But I do need a hook for
suspension bondage.”

Her pussy immediately gave a warm squeeze. She kept her
smile in place and her tone light. “Oh stop. You’re getting me all hot and
bothered.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m joking. As were you.”

But some kind of intuition told her he wasn’t joking. And as
their eyes once again met and held, her intuition told her that he knew she
knew that.

“Damn,” he murmured.

Heat swept over her body, a tiny ache developing low down
inside her. She gazed at him in the late-afternoon dusk as they stood on the
sidewalk outside the last building they’d looked at and licked her lips. “Okay!
Well, enough kidding around. That makes my job easier, if you’re going to
decide that fast. I’ll leave it up to you to contact the agent and get things
started.”

“Thanks for finding these. They were all great.”

“It’s my job,” she said dryly. “Other duties as assigned.”

“Okay. Would it be other duties as assigned to have dinner
with me tonight?”

Her hand paused on the door handle as she went to open the
door of the SUV. “What? Again? You’re asking me out again?”
Tabarnac
!
Not again! She closed her eyes briefly. Why was he doing this to her! She could
let her imagination run wild and picture them having a romantic dinner
somewhere, eating by candlelight, talking (about hockey) and laughing and then
maybe going back to her place, and her belly did a little flip of lust at the
thought of hot, athletic sex with him…oh holy Virgin Mary.

“No!” he said. “I’m not. Definitely not. This would totally
be a business dinner.”

She snorted. “Bullshit.”

She caught his eye, the amusement glinting there, the tug of
the corners of his lips, and she went all melty inside. But at least this time
she had a built-in, ready-to-use excuse, an impermeable defense strategy
against his charm. Thank god. She really couldn’t go out with him that night.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t. I have a date tonight.”

His eyes shadowed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were
seeing someone. I…” He shook his head. “Never mind. Okay. I’ll drive you back
to the arena.”

They’d left her car there earlier.

The easiness that had developed between them throughout the
day had disappeared, replaced with a stiff awkwardness. Nicole clasped her
hands on her purse on her lap as they drove. She’d accepted that date with
Paul, whom she’d met on the plane, because it was time for her to move on, to
date someone outside the hockey world. Nobody was ever going to insult her
again because of dating a hockey player. She was sticking to her resolution on
this, no matter how tempting the big, charming man beside her was. But damn, it
was hard! Especially since he seemed to like her too. It was enough to make her
melt like a skating rink in the spring.

“I changed my mind,” he said suddenly.

Huh? She turned to him. “About what?”

“The condo. I don’t want that one after all.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Um, okay.”

“You were right. I really need to look at more and make an
informed decision.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do more research and find some others to
look at. Will you have time this weekend?” They had a game Friday night, but
the weekend was mostly open.

“Yeah. This weekend would be good.”

“Next weekend is Thanksgiving,” she said. “That might not be
a good weekend to do it.”

“Thanksgiving, yeah. Apparently Taylor and Fedor are having
a bunch of people for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday.”

“That’s right. She does that every year. There are a lot of
players who don’t have family here, so she does a big dinner for anyone who
wants to come.”

“You’ll be there?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip briefly. “She invites me too since I
don’t have family here either.”

“This American Thanksgiving is a big thing.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is. It’s nice to be included, I have to
admit, when all you hear about everywhere is Thanksgiving this, Thanksgiving
that. I’ll be helping her cook, actually.”

“Cool.”

They arrived at the arena and he pulled into the parking
lot. “Which is your car?”

“That red Mustang over there.”

“Sweet.”

She grinned. She loved her car. “Thanks.”

He pulled up behind it in the dark, now-empty parking lot.
“There you go. Thanks for helping me out with this and ah…enjoy your date
tonight.”

She eyed him in the dimly lit vehicle. He seemed sincere.
Damn, this guy confused her! “I’ll try,” she said honestly, although she wasn’t
entirely confident about that.

* * * * *

Nicole smiled at Paul across the table in the restaurant
he’d taken her to for dinner. Nice place, if a little…staid. The steakhouse had
a menu that probably had existed in the nineteen-seventies. Meat. Potatoes.
Garlic toast. Yum.

“I work for the Caribou,” she told him in answer to his
question. “In Communications.”

“The Caribou?”

“The hockey team.”

“Oh. Oh yeah. Cool. I’m not much into hockey.” He ran a hand
over his hair. He was nice looking, not geeky at all, with a lean build and
decent shoulders.

“No?” Great. “How about football?”

“Nah. Not much into sports at all.”

She tipped her head to one side, keeping her friendly
interested smile firmly in place. “So what do you like to do when you’re not at
work?”

“I like gaming. Just got the newest Xbox system.”

She felt one eyebrow lift even though she tried to stop it.
He was how old? Thirty? “Cool,” she said. “What kind of games do you like?”
Probably not NHL12.

“I’m liking this new game, King of Fighters.”

“Uh-huh.” She had no clue what he was talking about.

“I’m kind of an amateur game designer,” he said with a
modest smile. “I like to play around with that.”

“You’re a computer programmer, right?”

“That’s right.”

Something else she had no clue about. She nibbled her bottom
lip. What the hell were they going to talk about?

“And I play online games too,” he said. “Really into Death
Trap right now.”

“Awesome.”

They managed to make some stilted conversation through
dinner, but the effort exhausted her. When Paul dropped her off at home she had
no intention of ever seeing him again. But when he invited her to go out again
on the weekend, she thought about it. Just because he wasn’t interested in
hockey didn’t mean he wasn’t interesting. The whole world didn’t watch hockey.
There were other things out there. Maybe it was she who needed to broaden her
horizons. So she agreed to go out again Saturday night.