The Slot (Rochester Riot #1)(40)
Cole smiled in spite of the black and purple ring around his left eye. “I think he’ll be out for more than that. I went to see Trey. I mean Trevor.”
“Oh, no. What happened? Besides the obvious.” She reached up and gingerly pressed a fingertip to the bruising on his face. He only flinched a little. Real tough guy.
Cole caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. Eloise felt her knees start to wobble. Puddle, here I come.
“El,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been a class one J.A.” His twin blues rippled like wavelets on the ocean as he locked eyes with her. She wanted to dive in and drown inside them.
“You can’t help the morals your family instilled,” she said. “No more than I can.”
“Morals are for stories, like Aesop’s fables. This is real life. Shit happens, and you have to deal with it the best way you know how. I can’t blame you for what you did. It would have ruined your future. That, and he forced himself on you. Forced himself. I can’t think of anything worse for a woman.”
She looked down at her shoes, shame curling through her. “In a way, it already has.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know for sure. But what I do know, Eloise Robertson,” he said, drawing her into his arms, is that I’ve never met anyone like you, and I don’t want to lose you. Do I get that second chance now? Please?”
Eloise nodded, dissolving into his embrace. “Will you tell me what happened with Trevor?”
“You were right. He hasn’t changed, and he wasn’t trying to spare my feelings. He didn’t remember you at all when I confronted him. How anyone could forget you is beyond me,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “Let’s just say he won’t be singing any Bob Marley tunes anytime soon.”
“You hit him.”
“Several times.”
“In the throat? That’s cheap.”
“It was his own fault. I was aiming for his jaw. He moved. That’s when he got lucky and landed this one,” he said, pointing to his shiner.
Eloise smiled and shook her head in mock disdain. She cupped his face with both hands. “You goon.”
Cole flashed his dimpled grin. “Well, I’m-a-goona kiss you, pretty doughnut-lady. Brace yourself.”
Her laugh was quickly smothered with another of Cole’s crushing, mind-numbing, panty-wetting kisses. She didn’t care. With her salary, she could buy plenty of underwear.
***
The Riot’s regular season came to a close with an impressive one hundred and five points, sending them to the top of the Central Division and clinching a playoff spot. Since the February trade, the team had gone almost undefeated, due in no small part to the addition of Cole Fiorino to the roster. Sheehan Murphy’s instincts to bust open the piggy bank to acquire him had paid off, big time.
It was no accident they’d set the opening date for Murphy’s Finest for the first home game of round one, and all hands were on deck for the party. Eloise made several tours of the bar, checking everything from the bar taps to the cocktail napkins. The venue was impressive. Marble bar tops and floors gleamed under uber-modern overhead light fixtures. Private gallery artwork graced the walls, along with vintage photos of the Murphy distillery operations down through the decades.
An hour or so before puck drop, a few VIP guests were already settled in the prime viewing area over the rink, but more were expected and had yet to show. Eloise waited for Murphy to make his rounds so she could ask him if he’d been advised of any delays in transportation for the remaining VIPs. She couldn’t stem a feeling of foreboding. She’d met with the contracted police unit and briefed the arena security staff to be on alert for any suspicious activity, but it didn’t completely alleviate her nervousness. She stood by the huge glass windows admiring Rochester’s twinkling night skyline when she felt a gentle hand on her back.
“Hey sexy lady, got any doughnuts for a starving hockey player?” a voice rumbled low in her ear. All of her body hair pricked to attention.
She smiled and turned to face him. He looked fantastic in his standard pre-game attire, a dress shirt, tailored sports jacket and jeans. “No, but stick around and there might be other treats in store.”
“Mmm, I can hardly wait.” Eloise slipped her hands behind his strong neck as he kissed her, her palms stroking the muscled cords. She would never get enough of touching him, kissing him. Making love to him. She hoped the latter would be happening again soon. The feel of his tongue exploring the deepest corners of her mouth set her privates on fire, pining for a long, slow lick.
“Shouldn’t you be in the dressing room?” she asked when their lips parted. “And aren’t we supposed to be keeping this on the down low?”
Cole grinned and kissed her again. “I’ve got a few minutes. Just wanted to see you and check if everything’s going okay. I’ve heard rumblings about mutiny on the bounty.”
Eloise gave a weak smile and nodded. “So far, so good. There’s a rumor the coalition might cause some kind of trouble tonight, trying to screw up the opening. You heard anything specific?”
Cole shook his head. “Nothing outside of some offhand remarks from Shred. Haven’t been around at the Blues since the blowup with Trey. I can’t believe he’d do anything that stupid. He could find himself in jail.”