“I’ve never known a scream queen.” Sam grinned and took a drink of his beer. Mark knew for a fact that Chelsea wasn’t Sam’s type. Sam liked tall, leggy women with big lips. Like Angelina Jolie. His preference was so well-known that everyone razzed him about dating Octomom.
“I’m going to church with my sister,” she said, her blue eyes shining with humor. “You’re welcome to come along.”
“I’ll pass.”
Vlad and Andre walked through the door from outside, oblivious of Chelsea. “If you go to ze strip clubz,” the big Russian was schooling the rookie, “ze Luztee Lady is a good one. Ze best.”
“The Lusty Lady is a dive,” Andre said. “I prefer the clubs in Canada. Cheetahs in Kelowna has totally nude dancing and the girls are hot. If you go, get a lap dance from Cinnamon. I don’t think that’s her real name, but she has better—”
“You guys haven’t met my assistant,” Mark interrupted before the two got into a debate over which nudie bar gave the best lap dances. Although everyone knew that it wasn’t Cheetahs. It was Scores in Las Vegas.
“Hey guys.” She looked up and smiled. “You must be Vlad.”
Vlad wasn’t unattractive. Just severe-looking. Women had been known to run in the other direction. Especially if he dropped his pants and showed them the impaler. Although to be fair, he didn’t do that much anymore.
Without moving his head, Vlad glanced at Mark before returning his gaze to Chelsea. “Yez.”
“Mr. Bressler mentioned that you weren’t drinking today.” She dug down in the ice and pulled out a bottle of Evian. She moved toward him and gazed up into his face. “So I brought you water.”
“Thanz.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned to Andre. “Can I get you a beer?”
Andre wasn’t tall like Vlad or the rest of the players, but he was massive and had a low center of gravity, like a cement pylon. Which came in handy when he needed to knock an opposing player off the puck or duke it out. “Ah—yeah. I guess.”
Mark didn’t know if the rookie enforcer was stunned or embarrassed. Probably both. For the past year or so, there’d never been a female in the house when the boys had gathered. They weren’t used to putting their best manners forward while they drank beer at Mark’s house.
“I watched you guys play the other night.” Chelsea moved to the bucket. “I’d never been to a hockey game before, and I know absolutely nothing about it, but you guys did great.”
“Yeah,” Mark said dryly. &# Ksai8220;They won the cup.”
She leaned forward a little, and her skirt slid up the backs of her smooth legs. She had the kind of legs he liked on a woman. If she was standing in front of him naked, with her knees touching, there was just enough room to slip his hand between her thighs.
She stood up straight and moved toward Andre, holding a beer. “Why did you hit that guy in the head the other night?”
“When?”
“Second period.”
Andre’s black brows lowered. “He had the puck,” he answered, as if that explained it all. And it did. She gave him the beer, and he said, “Thanks.”
Little Miss Sunshine smiled at the rookie. “You’re welcome. Does your chin hurt?”
He shook his head and returned her smile. “It was just a little love tap.”
She looked at Vlad and pointed to her own brow. “Is that a love tap?”
“Nah. Hurtz like hell.”
She laughed, and it occurred to Mark that she not only wasn’t running like hell, she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by any of the other six big hockey players in the room. She grabbed a bottle of water and moved toward him. “Holler if you need anything,” she said, and handed him a bottle of Evian. He reached for it but she didn’t let go. His fingers brushed her hand and he almost pulled back. “My number is programmed into your cell. So you don’t have to come and find me.”
“What’s my ringtone?”
She smiled and let go of the water. “Any of you guys need anything else?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“Maybe nachos,” Andre answered.
She turned to the enforcer, her back facing Mark. “I don’t cook.”