I watch in amazement as her eyes go warm and soft, and she gives me a humongous smile, causing my heart to start a mad tripping beat.
That’s an odd sensation.
“Awesome,” she says enthusiastically. “Because I have to tell you, I was so excited to get this project. It’s been my dream to be involved in an outreach program for at-risk youth, and to be able to do this at such a young age, and with the power of a professional hockey team behind me—”
I tune her out, not hearing a damn thing she says after that. Instead, I stare at her, enthralled as I take in her words thrown at me so quickly, because she’s excited like a kid at Christmas, which makes me focus on her mouth and how f**king sexy her lips are.
She’s beautiful, no doubt, but not in a classic way. More like in an earthy, casual way. She doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, but then she doesn’t need to. Her skin is clear and soft looking, her eyes and hair her best features by far. When she smiles, I notice right away that she has one tooth that is slightly crooked, but for some reason it adds to her overall allure. The fact that she’s not exquisitely perfect makes her almost perfect. She also has a small scar just below her left eyebrow—yet again, that somehow adds to her overall unique charm.
Not gonna lie—her body is slammin’. When I walked behind her on the way back to her office, yeah, my eyes were pinned to her curvy ass that was molded by her narrow, gray skirt that just brushed the backs of her knees and her toned calves. Along with her flat stomach, it’s a no- brainer she works out. The only thing I couldn’t get a good read on was her br**sts, but that’s because the silky cream blouse she’s wearing has ruffles down the front that don’t give much definition. They don’t look overly large but I’m betting they are a handful, which really, really makes me regret that she won’t be coming home with me tonight.
“…so, I think if we work hard, we could probably have something ready to launch in a few months, don’t you think?”
I tune her back in and nod my head up and down, having no f**king idea what she just said. “Sounds good to me.”
“So, how often do you want to meet? I mean—your schedule has got to be a lot more complex than mine, but I’m pretty flexible. I can do nights or weekends if you need.”
“My schedule varies week to week, depending if our games are home or away. We’ll have to play a lot of it by ear.”
“Sure,” she says brightly, but I can see that she is like a racehorse chomping at the bit to get out of the gate. Her enthusiasm is slightly infectious, and I find myself pulling my iPhone out of my pocket. “Tell me what days you have free over the next week and I’ll see what we can set up.”
She turns to her laptop, and with a few taps of her fingers, she starts to tell me her schedule. Within a few minutes, we have a meeting arranged for the following Monday morning.
Reaching down into a desk drawer, Sutton pulls out a thick binder and hands it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask suspiciously.
“Homework,” she grins. “It’s actually an outreach program they do out in California that I’ve been studying. I think it’s a good model and will save us a ton of work.”
Looking at the binder like it’s a bug in my hand, I can’t help the way my nose wrinkles up. “Why don’t you read it and give me the Cliff Notes version?”
Sutton laughs and my stomach clenches over the pure honeyed sound that pours out. Her eyes crinkle, her teeth show bright, even that little crooked tooth, and her voice is like music to my ears.
And what the f**k? When did I start noticing shit like that about women? I’m a tits–and–ass man. Although apparently I’m now an eyes, hair and voice man too.
With Sutton’s laughter still ringing, I shake my head and grumble, “I didn’t say that to be funny.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” she says while still chuckling, “but I’m not doing your homework for you.”
Sitting up in my chair, I lean forward, placing my elbows at my knees and clasping my hands together. I pin her with a direct look, all kidding aside. “You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Even though I’m a hotshot professional hockey player?”
“Especially not for that,” she says, glaring at me with mock disapproval. “Besides, I don’t know anything about hockey.”
“You should cut me some slack—I’ll be less of a prick.”
“Didn’t you know you catch more flies with sugar?”
“So, if I’m nice you’ll cut me slack?”
“Nope. Not even then,” she says with a smirk.
I stare at her a moment, then before I even know what the f**k is happening, my head tilts back and I start laughing.
Hard.
And it feels natural, and fun, and…right.
“So, you really know nothing about hockey?” I ask, chuckling.
“It’s played on ice, right?”
“Last I checked,” I tell her with a snort.
“Then that’s the extent of my knowledge.”
“Tell you what—I’ll get you tickets for tomorrow night’s game and you can start learning about it.”
“Oh, that’s really nice but I have plans tomorrow night,” she says, her cheeks turning slightly red.
“I can get you four tickets, so if you’re going out with friends or something—”