Taking Shots (Assassins, #1)(39)

“They are my team.”

He smiled, kissing her again. “Is there a chance I can see these undies today?” he muttered against her lips, she giggled as she shook her head pulling him down for another long passionate kiss. She could do this all day and night, his lips were that kissable.

“I mean, Jesus! Get a damn room y’all.” Elli pulled back from Shea, looking over to give Harper the death look.

“Did I say anything when I found you and Jakob on your desk last week?” Harper just grinned and walked right up to them.

“No, but at least I introduced you,” she said in a matter of fact voice. “So, on with it, Ms. Fisher.” Elli rolled her eyes, parting from Shea a little.

“Shea, this is my best friend Harper, Harper, Shea Adler.”

“How do you do?” Harper said in an overly fake country accent, Shea smiled.

“Good, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now? From who?”

“Oh, from Elli, and Jakob, you’re quite the subject.” Harper smiled in delight and turned on her heels to walk away, with nothing but a wave. “She’s just like Jakob described.”

“I hope he described her nicely, because she is…nice, I mean.” Shea wrapped her back up in his arms, kissing the side of her neck.

“Elli.”

“Shea,” she gasped as he bit softly.

“Show me your undies.” Elli broke out in a fit of giggles as Shea smiled against her neck.

“No way.”

“What if I get a goal just for you, then can I see your undies?”

“Do they have to be on me?” she asked, playing along. There was no way in hell he would see her in her undies.

“Yes, they do.”

“Hmm….no.”

“Come on, two goals.”

“No.”

“Three.”

“Okay, how about three, and y’all gotta win.”

“Deal, now kiss me.”

“That I will do,” she said with a grin as she leaned up on her tippy toes to kiss him deeply.

It was probably the first time Eleanor Fisher hoped Shea didn’t score.





Shea walked into his box where his family was. They always came early so they could eat and visit before Shea had to go get ready. He had left Elli and came straight there, he had hoped she would come with him, but he didn’t want to push her into anything. Shea saw his father, Mark, first, standing by the wall, overlooking the ice. His father was aging well, in his opinion, at the age of forty-nine his father didn’t look at day over thirty. His hair still black as night, he had the laugh lines and a rugged look to him, but he still looked the same as he did when Shea was nine.

“Hey, pop,” he said as he walked in, Mark turned around with a smile on his face.

“Hey, son, excited?”

“Sure am, where’s mom and everybody?”

“Pro shop. Ryan wanted a new jersey and Amelia needs a new one, too.” Shea smiled as he came over, leaning against the edge with his father.

“You still like these seats, right, pop? I can get you another box if you don’t like these.”

“I love these, son, let it be.” Shea nodded, looking down at the ice he would be playing on in a matter of hours. He looked over by the penalty box, where Elli would be sitting and smiled before looking over at his father who was staring at him.

“You alright, pop?”

“Fine, son,” he said with a nod and grin, “Your mother was wondering what girl we would be subjected to tonight.”

“No one,” Shea said with a shake of his head as he went to the bar, getting a bottle of water.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s unlike you.”

“Pop, I haven’t been with anyone since, what was her name...Alyssa?”

“Really? That was game four of the quarterfinals.”

“Yeah, my priorities are changing.”

“Good, your mother will be happy to hear that.” Mark came around the bar, grabbing himself a beer, then he smiled “Who is she?” Shea laughed, he couldn’t get one past his father if he tried.

“Her name is Elli.”

“Elli, short for anything?”

“Eleanor.”

“Nice, how long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh, I thought she came sooner.”

“I wish she had, she’s amazing, pop. A real gem.” Mark nodded with a smile on his face. Shea knew his father wanted nothing more for Shea than to be happy outside the rink, not with a different woman every night.

“She didn’t want to sit up here? Please don’t tell me she doesn’t like hockey!” Shea laughed, shaking his head.

“No, pop, she had glass seat season tickets, down there by the penalty box.”

“No shit,” Mark gasped as he looked down at the ice, not like you could see anything but empty seats, but his father still looked. “She’s rich?”

“She owns her own business, she’s a photographer.”

“Wow, how old is she?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Good, she pretty?”