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“To see if you’ll run away crying.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s Bo.” Faith turned toward Chelsea Ross, and Jules introduced the two.
Faith smiled and held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Chelsea. Jules has told me good things about you.”
She shook the team owner’s hand, and a few feet away, Mark’s deep laughter reached across the distance and spread little tingles down her spine. Her back was to him, but she didn’t need to see him to know he stood within a group of people admiring the cup a few feet away.
“I was in the Key the night the Chinooks won,” she told Faith. “Bo and I both thought that kiss at the end was one of the most romantic things we’ve ever seen.”
“Romantic and shocking.” Faith smiled and looked around. “Where is Bo?”
“You know her.” Jules let out an irritated breath. “Always working an angle.” A frown pulled at his brows and he reached for Faith’s left hand. “Is that an engagement ring?”
“Ty asked me to marry him.”
“And you didn’t tell him hell no?”
Ty moved behind Faith and slid his hand around her waist. “Why would she do that?”
She leaned back against Ty and smiled. “I was going to ask you to be my bridesmaid, Jules.”
Ty laughed, and Jules’s frown turned stormy. “Funny.”
“I’m not joking. I want you to be in the wedding.”
While the three of them talked wedding plans, Chelsea excused herself. Most of the room had cleared out, and she walked the few feet toward the dais. She stopped next to Mark and felt the hot swell in her chest again. She would love to tell herself that it was only pride that made her ache, but while she was a good actress, she was a very bad liar. Especially to herself.
He didn’t say anything as he stared at the symbol of his accomplishment. His life goal. His dream. He looked at it like he was mesmerized. Hypnotized by its shininess. Or maybe he was just ignoring her again.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” she said. “Probably pretty heavy, too.” She could only imagine the emotion he must be feeling. She knew that if she ever won an Oscar or even an Emmy, she’d be freaked out. Probably become catatonic. “I don’t know a lot about hockey, but seeing all those names inscribed on the cup kind of inspires awe. Like the first time I stood at the Lincoln Memorial. It’s so grand and filled with history.” He still didn’t speak. “Don’t you think?”
Without looking at her, he said, “Your dress is too tight. That’s what I think.”
“What?” She turned to look at him. “That’s crazy. It covers me almost to my knees.”
“It’s the same color as your skin.”
“I thought you’d like it because it’s all one sedate color.”
Mark glanced down into her upturned face. Into her big blue eyes and pink lips. He did like it. A lot. He’d like it a lot more if they were alone. “You look naked.” And beautiful.
“I don’t look naked.”
“Hey, Short Boss.”
Mark groaned inwardly.
“Hi Sam,” she said.
“You look hot.”
Mark had an irrational urge to kill Sam. Or at the very least, punch him in the head. It had been a long time since Mark had punched anyone in the head. It might feel good.
Chelsea smiled up at the defenseman. “Thanks. So do you.”
“What do you say to you and me hitting the other room? I’ll buy you a drink.”
