LITMIR.BIZ

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Every time I open my mouth around her, I’m eating shoe leather. I don’t have that problem with you.”

      “Because our relationship is simple.”

      “Maybe we should date instead.”

      “Right.” Sapphie rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to spoil what we have.”

      “You’re right.” He sighed again.

      “Go sort things out with Lizzie. Apologize, then ask her to dance.”

      “Even if she accepts I’m sorry, I’m the last person she’ll want to dance with.”

      “It’s not like you to give up because it’s tough.”

      His lips twisted. “Me and Lizzie isn’t tough—it’s impossible.”

      “I wouldn’t be so sure.” She’d seen Lizzie surreptitiously watching Taylor. “Anyway, you’ve got nothing to lose by giving it a shot.”

      “I guess. Anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” he grumbled good-naturedly.

      “All the time. It’s how I earn my money. You’re lucky I don’t charge for my advice.”

      “You’d be worth every penny.” He kissed her cheek, then stood. “Wish me luck.”

      She held up crossed fingers. “You can do it.”

      Taylor strode off purposefully, but his body language changed as he approached Lizzie. He was nervous.

      Lizzie straightened the moment she saw Taylor heading toward her. Though Sapphie couldn’t hear what was said, the pair’s reactions were enough to get the gist of their conversation. As it grew more heated, Sapphie hoped Taylor would back off, but he didn’t. Soon Lizzie stalked out, with Taylor hot on her heels. It would end either in tears or with them tearing up the sheets. There was too much passion for anything else.

      As Sapphie made her way across the room, she spotted Scotty Matthews at the bar, nursing a drink. Sapphie had always had a fan-girl crush on the former Ice Cats captain. Her favorite player since she’d started following the team, he’d been a powerhouse on the ice and, from what she’d heard, a great leader and a mentor in the locker room. He was a nice guy but hard to get to know. She’d seen him at several Ice Cats parties and he’d seemed pretty self-contained. Watching everything, saying little.

      She’d found it hard to be her usual chatty self with him. He’d look at her with those serious blue eyes and she’d become tongue-tied. Because she’d never been fazed by a gorgeous man before, she’d assumed it was because he was older than her—in his early forties. Though he’d never said anything overtly disapproving, she’d felt she never quite measured up to his standards.

      Tonight he looked lonely.

      He’d obviously come to the reception on his own. She’d heard about his divorce last year; hard not to when it had been splashed across the media.

      As if he felt her studying him, Scotty looked up and their gazes met.

      There was something about the recently retired captain that drew her to him. His dark hair, flecked with gray, was still short, like it had been when he was playing. His tanned face bore the scars of his career. The one that had always fascinated her was the white line that marred his otherwise perfect lips. Left side, near the corner. The result of a high stick—one that hadn’t been penalized—it had taken twenty-five stitches to close the cut.

      He gave a half smile, raised his glass to her, then returned his attention to his drink.

      Suddenly, she wanted to make that half smile full-blown.

      Sapphie sauntered to the bar and settled on the stool next to him. She was pleased to notice him checking out her legs as she crossed them.

      “I suppose a dance is out of the question, Captain?” Her question came out slightly husky, giving it an unintentionally sultry note.

      He didn’t answer immediately but looked at the crowd on the dance floor doing their best impression of John Travolta to “Stayin’ Alive.” “Not really my thing.”

      Yet his toe tapped on the rung of the stool.

      “I always find it amazing that you guys have perfect rhythm and timing on the ice, yet you claim not to like dancing. Me, I love it.” She wiggled in her seat.

      He frowned. “That’s completely different. One is a sport. That—” he pointed to the dance floor with his glass “—isn’t.”

      “True. And some people should probably stick to hockey. Bless his heart, Monty has two left feet.”

      A step behind the music all the time, Chaz “Monty” Montgomery made up for his lack of skill with enthusiasm.

      “He’s a goaltender,” Scotty said. As if that explained everything.

      The music slowed. Couples drifted together.

      Sapphie wrinkled her nose. “I never did like this song.”

      “That was my ex-wife’s favorite.”

      Way to go, Sapphie. “I’m sorry.”

      Scotty shrugged. “Everyone has different tastes.”

      They sat silently, watching the light from the disco ball send sparkles over the dancing couples.

      “Honestly, I never liked this song much either.”

      At his dry words, she whipped her head around to look at him. A hint of a smile played around his lips.

      She was tempted to lean over and kiss them. To taste that scar. But this wasn’t the time or place for that behavior—especially from the maid of honor.

      That didn’t stop her wanting to.

      Willing herself to sound casual, she said, “I’d offer to give you new memories for the song, but we should pick something that won’t make us wince every time we hear it.”

      “Good thinking. Plus the singer has the same name as my ex.”

      “We’ll definitely choose another song, then.”

      With impeccable timing, the DJ segued into the next track. Unfortunately, it wasn’t any better. She looked questioningly at Scotty, hoping this wasn’t one of his favorites.

      For several seconds he appeared to be enjoying the music. Then he said solemnly, “Sorry, but we can’t have our song being about a dying woman. Too morbid.”

      She grinned, relieved. “I love Bette Midler, but this song always grates on me. Perhaps because I hate movies with sad endings. Life’s hard enough.”

      “For sure.” His smile faded.

      Way to bring the evening down, dodo. Determined to cheer things up, she said brightly, “Next song, whatever it is, love it or hate it, we dance. Deal?”

      For a moment, she thought he’d refuse. But he nodded. “Okay. Deal.”

      They waited as the current song reached its climax. Then the DJ’s deliberately deep voice washed over the crowd. “Last slow song before we take up the tempo again. So grab your favorite girl or guy and smooch.”

      The moment of truth. Sapphie and Scotty looked at each other.

      She was surprised by how much she wanted this dance. Even a little nervous.

      He held out his hand, palm up. “A deal’s a deal.”

      “It certainly is.” She laid her hand in his. “Luckily, I like this song,” she said as they joined the other couples. “I’ve always liked Christopher Cross. This one’s a little corny, I know, but there’s something romantic about the lyrics. Especially given where we live.” Jeez, she was babbling like a teenager on her first date.

      “I like the idea of being caught between the moon and New York City.”

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