Jonah: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 10

  “This feels like prom all over again,” I mutter as Kai puts the finishing touches on my makeup.

  “Bullshit, you look like you’re heading to the Oscars. Seriously, this is some of the best work I’ve ever done. Turn and look.”

  I spin around on the stool in front of Kai’s vanity and gasp when I see my reflection. Kai did my hair in big, glamorous waves that rest on my bare shoulders. It looks perfect with my dark green dress, sleeveless with a high neck and lots of intricate beading on the bodice.

  Kai managed to borrow this dress from a fashion designer he knows and he spent hours getting my hair and makeup just right, which was no small feat with his arm in a sling. I look dramatically different than the high school girl who wore a lilac-colored taffeta dress and ponytail to her prom a decade ago.

  “Wow,” I say, turning to admire my makeup. “You really are the smoky eye master.”

  “Don’t wipe off the red lipstick.” He meets my gaze in the mirror with a stern look.

  “You don’t think it’s too bold?”

  “It’s perfect. Flawless. I would kill to be able to wear a red lip the way you do.”

  I turn to face him. “You’re sure you feel okay being alone here tonight?”

  It’s been almost a week since the attack. At first Kai was furious that I told Logan, who told Kai’s father. But the next day, Kai broke down and apologized, saying that he was ashamed for anyone to know and angry at the situation rather than angry with me.

  He’s gotten past that now, though. His parents came over and we all assured Kai that he has nothing to feel shame for. He was the victim of a hate crime—ambushed by drunken frat boys leaving a bar near the club he was at. They followed him as he left and pulled him into an alley, demanding proof of his gender.

  CPD detectives have been scouring security footage from every business within a couple square miles of that club, trying to get a lead on the assholes that hurt Kai. Those of us who love him have been focused on helping him recover, though I know the emotional wounds will last longer than his physical ones.

  “I’m fine,” Kai says. “With the doors locked, I feel very safe. Please have fun and don’t worry about me.”

  “I couldn’t do this without you,” I say, standing up and taking his hand.

  By this, I mean the beauty aspect of my undercover persona. I always knew how to apply basic makeup, a little eyeshadow here and concealer there, but Kai has taught me so much more, always adding the extra touches to my hair, makeup and clothes that make me seem like the glamour queen I appear to be online. In our short time as roommates, though, Kai has become so much more than just my glam guru.

  He squeezes my hand. “I can’t imagine not having you here. You’re like…my best friend.”

  “And you’re mine.”

  I move to hug him, but he steps back. “Later, girl. I don’t want your makeup getting messed up.”

  “I have a few minutes before Jonah gets here; want me to make a pizza or something?”

  Kai lowers his brows, confused. “You are not eating pizza, you crazy bitch. I’m not sending you off to the ball with Prince Charming with garlic breath and jacked up lipstick.”

  “But I’m hungry.”

  “Suck it up and drink some water like the queen you are.”

  I sigh in frustration. “So I can’t breathe, I can’t walk, and I have to starve?” I ask, referring to the Spanx constricting my waist and the strappy heels digging into the tops of my feet.

  “Exactly,” Kai says with a nod. “Oh, and make sure you smile.”

  “I’d rather be here watching TV with you. Even The Real Housewives of Orange County would be better than a whole night in heels.”

  “I put some folded ballet flats in your purse for later.”

  I brighten, smiling. “Why don’t I just put those on now?”

  “I will fucking kill you if you aren’t wearing your heels in the photos of this event. Those Jimmy Choos are sold out everywhere. I had to pull major strings to get them.”

  I huff out a sigh. “Okay, okay. But can I at least eat some crackers or something?”

  He considers this as he gives me a once over. “Only if I can break them into bite-sized pieces and put the pieces on your tongue so they don’t touch your lipstick.”

  I nod. “Done. I’d lick food off the floor right now if I had to.”

  “Oh, my Rey.” Kai puts an arm around me as we walk to the kitchen. “The things that come out of your mouth sometimes.”

  I convince him to add a little peanut butter to my cracker bites, and he even gives me a few bites of ice cream, so I’m much less hangry by the time Jonah rings the doorbell.

  When I open the door and see Jonah standing there in his tuxedo, my heart starts beating faster. He’s so handsome, made even more so by the awestruck expression on his face as he takes in my appearance. I wish I could snap a photo of his smile.

  “Look at you,” he says softly. “You look incredible.”

  “Thank you. It’s all thanks to Kai.”

  “No, you put your own underwear on,” Kai quips. “You get credit for that.”

  I laugh and say, “Okay, well, all the rest was you.”

  “Kai, I’m Jonah.” Jonah reaches his hand out for a handshake. “It’s great to meet you.”

  “You too. Want to come in for a drink?”

  “I wish I could, but we’re riding to the event with some friends and they’re waiting in the car for us.”

  Kai hands me my purse and says, “Another time. You kids have fun.”

  “Hey,” Jonah says to Kai, looking serious, “I’m sorry about what happened. I wish there was something I could do.”

  Kai smiles and says, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “I’ve been thinking of you,” Jonah says. “I know that’s not much, but it’s true.”

  “That’s really nice of you and I can tell you mean it.” Kai’s eyes shine with emotion. “Thank you.”

  I squeeze Kai’s hand and say, “Call me if you need anything. Anything, okay?”

  “I will. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Jonah takes my hand and leads me through the doorway and I listen for the locks to click into place after Kai closes it.

  “It’s really good to see you,” Jonah says, leaning close.

  “You too.”

  “I’m sorry I left the other morning.”

  We’re standing at the top of the stairs outside Kai’s apartment, and I think Jonah paused so we can exchange a quick, private word before getting in the car with the others.

  “It’s fine,” I assure him. “I appreciate you, and I don’t tell you that enough. You’re pretty amazing, even when…you don’t have to be.”

  I hope he can decipher my cryptic message. Jonah isn’t only good to me when others are watching, in order to keep up our cover story—the meal he had delivered after Kai’s attack meant a lot.

  He leans a little closer and kisses me softly.

  “I’m trying,” he says softly.

  Trying at what? I want to ask him. I’m dying to know if he feels something for me. But I don’t ask, because the answer may not be something that’s safe to discuss here. So instead, I nod and squeeze his hand. He leads me down the stairs to a waiting SUV limousine.

  Our chauffeur opens the door and I see Anton, Mia, Luca, Abby, Easy and Allie all waiting inside.

  “You guys look amazing,” I say as I settle into my seat.

  “So do you,” Abby says. “Jonah was just telling us you’re a beauty writer, that sounds like so much fun.”

  “I love it.”

  “Can you show me how to do a cat eye?” Abby asks. “I can never get it to look right.”

  “Sure, I can show you.” At least with Kai’s help I could.

  Not only can I not show her, I can’t even do a cat eye on myself. I’m hoping I won’t end up having to talk my way out of it.

  “Liquid eyeliner is the worst,” Allie says. “I alway
s end up looking like a little kid who broke into my mom’s makeup drawer when I put it on.”

  Mia is busy pouring champagne into glass flutes. She generously fills each one and then passes it to an outstretched hand.

  “To a night out,” she says, grinning and holding up her glass.

  “Hear, hear,” Abby says as everyone clinks glasses and takes a drink.

  Anton cringes and sets his glass down. “That’s shit, babe.”

  “Get over it,” she says, kissing him.

  Mia has several bottles of champagne on ice, and she keeps everyone’s glass full. I’m glad I ate a little food before this, even though I’m trying not to drink too much.

  “Remind me what this event is for,” I murmur in Jonah’s ear.

  “It’s a fundraiser for a charity that raises money to build houses for wounded veterans. There’s a former Blaze player, Harry Stone, who started it.

  “That reminds me, I need to pay someone for our tickets,” Easy says.

  Luca shakes his head and says, “We bought the table. Just buy something from the auction.”

  “Thanks, man,” Easy says.

  Jonah has told me before that Luca and Abby are beyond wealthy through the success of Abby’s home furnishings business. My instinct tells me that they’re the kind of people Darren Shields will gravitate toward, if he’s at the event tonight.

  When we arrive, it feels like a Hollywood movie premiere. There’s a red carpet, outfitted with photographers on both sides, flashes from their cameras blinding me where I stand. Jonah locks an arm around my waist, which I’m grateful for when I stumble in my heels and lean on him for support.

  “Good champagne?” he quips.

  “It’s these damn heels.”

  “I’m sure it is.” He winks and I can’t help smiling.

  I’ve never been a woman who glows when her man looks at her, but with Jonah, it’s more than just an act. His eyes are the swirling gray blue of a sky just before a storm, and I was so wrong to think those eyes are pretty. They’re intense, darkening when he feels conflicted or guilty. The storm inside him still rages, and it has since the day his wife died.

  He’s attracted to me. I feel how much he wants me when we kiss sometimes, and I can see that he yearns for more when he holds me close longer than he intends to sometimes.

  I’m trained to read people—body language, words, nonverbal cues. I can even decipher things from someone’s laughter. And while I know Jonah wants me, I don’t know if it’s just physical, or something more. And I don’t know if he wants to act on the attraction, or if the guilt would overwhelm him if we do.

  The event is being held in the ballroom of a downtown hotel, lavishly decorated with topiaries enrobed in twinkle lights, dinner tables laden with ornate glassware and place settings, and a large dance floor with a string quartet. Not to mention the magnificent art being displayed on easels and stands, which will be sold in tonight’s silent auction.

  Jonah leads me toward our table, stopping partway there to lean down and kiss my neck. My lips part as his mouth meets my skin, making my stomach flip with excitement.

  “He’s here,” Jonah whispers in my ear, nipping at my earlobe.

  I almost laugh. Here I am, reveling in his touch like a giddy woman in love, while he’s already spotted Shields. I have to stop fangirling over Jonah and focus on the reason I’m here.

  It takes me a few seconds to casually locate Shields. He’s standing in a small group of men, all of them laughing. Fucking scumbag. I wonder if those guys know their friend traffics children.

  I lock eyes with Jonah and hope he reads my unspoken message. Follow my lead.

  “Want to look at the auction stuff?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He takes my hand, and I give a little tug toward the side of the room where Shields is standing. Jonah leads the way over there, both of us pretending we’re heading toward a painting on display.

  “That would look amazing on the wall in your living room,” I say. “The empty one.”

  “Yeah, it’s nice. And I need to buy something here to make a donation. Might as well make it quick and easy.”

  I shake my head and laugh at what a man he is.

  “Renee?” Shields reaches out as we pass and touches my arm.

  I turn and pretend I’m just recognizing him, breaking into a smile. “Darren, right?”

  “Yes. Great to see you again.”

  Taking Jonah’s arm, I say, “Babe, this is Darren Shields. Remember me telling you how I got lost at the game and he walked me back to the right VIP box?”

  Jonah smiles. “Thanks for that, man. Really nice of you.”

  “I think we’ve met, but it’s been a while.” Shields holds out his hand and Jonah shakes it.

  “Yeah, you’re a friend of Durand’s, right?”

  “Most of the time,” Shields quips.

  Shields and the other guys small talk with Jonah about hockey, and I play the role of doting girlfriend. Inside, though, I’m feeling the thrill of finally making some headway with this case. I’ve been working it for almost two months now, and it’s been frustratingly slow.

  This is the right way to do it, though. Earn Shields’s trust and become part of his inner circle.

  My plan is to convince Shields that Jonah and I are a young, happy and very sexually adventurous couple. I need him to want more than just a facile friendship with us—he needs to believe we might be open to the perverse abuse he considers a turn on.

  I swipe a glass of champagne from a tray and down half of it. When Jonah looks at me with an arched brow, I giggle and say, “Hope you’re up for a late night, baby.”

  Looking at Shields, I explain. “The more I drink, the more I can’t wait to get him home to bed.”

  “And not for sleep, I presume?” Shields says as he grins.

  “Not with this one.” Jonah slides his hand around my waist and then down to cup my ass. “She’s better than any workout with my trainer.”

  Shields and his friends laugh heartily at that, impressed by the pro athlete and his Barbie doll sex fiend. I play right along, willing to do and say whatever it takes to get closer to Shields.

  Another couple comes over to greet Shields, and Jonah shakes his hand again as we leave.

  “Great to see you again, Renee,” Shields says, giving my hand a brief squeeze.

  I squeeze back and smile. “Hope to see you again soon, Darren.”

  “Me too. And I hope you two enjoy your night.”

  “Always.” I bite my lip coyly and follow Jonah, letting my gaze linger on Shields.

  Jonah looks down at me. “How you doing? You okay?”

  “I’m good,” I say in a level tone, letting him know I’m stone cold sober and was just pretending.

  “You are good,” he whispers.

  “Where’s the coat room?” I ask, still feeling the arousal that was only half-pretend for me.

  “You need me to get something from your coat? I can go while you stay here.”

  Such a gentleman. I’ve never been with a man who wants to take care of me the way Jonah does, and damned if it’s not hot.

  “I was hoping we could sneak off and make out,” I admit.

  “Really?”

  I nod, trying to read his expression. “I guess we can’t since there are so many people working in the coat check, but if we could…would you?”

  “Yeah. I definitely would.”

  He slides his hand around my waist again, this time with enough pressure that I can imagine what his hand might feel like on my bare skin. I close my eyes, imagining just for a second, not caring whether this attraction is only physical for Jonah.

  I want him. A lot. And I’ll take what I can get.

  “There’s always tonight,” he says, staring down at me.

  “Tonight.” I repeat, holding his gaze.

  Jonah leans in and kisses me, his lips soft, warm and intent. I plan to go back to his place tonight, and this time, I
’m not getting into his bed alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jonah

  Rey and I are ready to leave the fundraiser before everyone else; I think we both have the same thing in mind. We take an Uber back to my place, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands from roaming beneath her dress during the ride.

  “Hey, are you two famous or something?” the Uber driver asks, eyeing us in the rearview mirror.

  “Nah, just dressed up for a charity event,” I answer, trying to keep my voice level as Rey slides her hand up my inner thigh.

  “You look famous,” he says skeptically.

  “I play hockey,” I say, easing the bottom of Rey’s dress up enough that I can brush my hand across her bare knee.

  Her dark eyes flare with desire and she squeezes my leg gently, causing my erection to swell against the seam of my pants. I’m aching to touch all the hidden parts of her.

  “I think that’s it,” the driver says, grinning. “I saw pictures of you guys in the paper. You’re the widowed guy who found love again, aren’t you? From the Blaze. Jordan West, right?”

  Rey smiles, amused.

  “Jonah,” I say, smiling back at her. “And yeah, that’s me.”

  “Man, that’s cool.” He nods, pleased that he figured it out. “Wish I could find somebody good. All I got is a shady ex who keeps coming into my apartment and crapping in my toilet.”

  “What?” Rey leans forward, suddenly more interested in our strange conversation with our driver than me.

  “Yeah, man. She craps in there and doesn’t flush it. Like every day.”

  Rey scrunches her face and says, “That’s disgusting.”

  “She’s crazy,” the Uber driver says dismissively.

  “I’m glad you’re not crazy, babe,” I murmur in Rey’s ear, nuzzling her neck.

  “Most of the time I’m not,” she says lightly, her hand back on my thigh.

  I’ve never felt such an overwhelming desire to take a woman to bed, and I only have so much time with Rey. I want to enjoy every second she’s here with me, because eventually, I’ll end up alone again.

  I use the address for the apartment building next to mine when using Uber because I don’t want drivers to know where I live. When we pull up, the driver asks, “Hey, can I get a picture with you guys?”