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Dahlia opened her mouth, as if to spout out a purity protest, then she shrugged, and made a whatever moue with her lips. She walked over to the heavy desk that used to be hers and looked around. The bulky furniture had been moved to the corner to make room for the addition of this large conference table. On top of her former desk was a long name plate that read Willow in red letters. Dahlia didn’t touch that. She went behind the desk and lifted a shipping box. Frowning, she raised the air bill to eye-height to read the address. Mouth tight, she pivoted and placed the box on the center of the desk calendar. She grabbed a hockey stick-shaped letter opener and sliced into the packing tape. She tossed a telling gaze to Calista.
Kiernan lined up a set of tumblers on the table in front of the empty chair by Calista, standing a touch too close. Kiernan poured like a pro. “Ladies first.”
That looked like trouble, he’d head it off. That was one of his duties as captain. Ronan rose and took the empty seat beside Calista, pretending not to see Kiernan smirk at him. Kiernan slid the full glasses across the polished black granite top as if they were pucks. He got them into the nets formed by the attendees’ hands. Lastly, he served Dahlia who was removing bubble wrap from the shipping box.
“Thanks.” Dahlia drank the liquor in a long swallow and winced at the taste. “I’ll arrange drivers for us with the app.” She motioned for a refill.
Kiernan accommodated her, then he took the open chair down by Rookie.
The guys at the table drank their own drinks in an amber-warmed silence, only broken by Dahlia’s unpacking, which had a solid anger. Ronan had enough ex-girlfriends to recognize the tension in her moves. If he had to guess, there was a yet-to-be-returned engagement gift inside.
Kiernan leaned down the table to offer him a top-off. “Captain goodie two-twos?”
Clever idiot, playing with his jersey number. Why not? Ronan waved his fingers toward his glass in agreement.
Dahlia carried the opened box to the head of the conference table. “New options for the dancer costumes have arrived.”
He’d guessed wrong there.
Dahlia braced her palms on the box and leaned in. “While I’ve got you here. You guys can vote on which you like best.”
Kiernan nodded. “I want a piece of that.”
Calista took a drink. “I’m not putting them on.”
Images of the last time he’d seen her in the snowball bikini, and half out of it, flooded his mind and tied his tongue. Ronan swallowed. He wanted that again. This time he’d look longer, though looking had not compared to touching or breathing her in. Her fragrance was vanilla-scented excitement, and her skin the softest he’d ever felt. He’d barely touched her. What did the rest of her feel like?
“Of course not, the guys will get the idea without a model,” Dahlia said, her voice easy, her composure returned. “I ordered three designs.” She held up the first one, a full body suit with a jersey design that went over the torso and hockey pants on the bottom.
Kiernan shook his head hard. “That’s putting me off my drink.”
Liam made a thumb’s down, and Rookie followed the gesture.
Ronan didn’t bother to vote because the majority had spoken.
The next was a bat bra. The bat was Snowers blue, each wing covered a breast and the bat body rode facing up over the bra clasp. The bat concealing the bikini area faced up also. Bats were a symbol of Austin.
Kiernan made obscene finger gestures. “Is the bat going into the cave or out of the cave?”
Dahlia threw the bat back in the box. “Come here, Calista, you make things look nicer.”
Ronan held in a groan. Yeah, she did.
Calista wiggled her wheeled conference room chair left then right, her face flushed a pretty pink. “Nope.”
Dahlia gave her begging eyes with irises a shade darker than Calista’s.
Calista’s shoulders slumped, and she rose.
Ronan’s heart started an out-of-control rhythm. Was she going to put the suit on?
