Icing On The Date (The Bannister Brothers #1) (13 page)

Ouch
. Geez, this woman was out for blood. Gabby could almost feel the scratch of her catty nails down her back. Especially because she’d never had anyone
do
her eyebrows. And if she had someone, she wouldn’t even know what to tell them to do. “Thanks, I’m good.”

“Hello, ladies.” Justin slid into the booth next to Gabby as he plunked the cups on the table. A swell of foam tipped over the side of his beer and slid down the frosty glass.

Gabby took a sip of her Diet Coke before introducing her new ‘friends’. “Justin, this is Tiffany and Abby.”

“Ashley,” the woman corrected with a snide sneer before turning to smile seductively at Justin. “So, Gabby was just telling us about her amazing cupcakes. They must really be something to lure so many good-looking men around her.”

“Yep, she’s pretty amazing, all right.” Justin smiled sweetly and dropped his arm around Gabby’s shoulder. “You do know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Do you bake?”

Ashley laughed sardonically and with a hint of disdain, as if baking were beneath her. “Not hardly.”

“Maybe you should try it.” He turned to face Gabby, drawing her attention and completely ignoring the catty women. “So, what did you think of the game? Are you enjoying it?”

She kept her eyes focused on her brother, who had so skillfully dismissed the two other women. Dang, he was good at this.

Even though they had insulted almost everything about her, it wasn’t in her nature to be mean, and she hated to hurt anyone’s feelings. If she just didn’t look at them, then that wouldn’t exactly be considered mean, it would be more like intentional directional eye contact. And that didn’t sound mean at all.

“I think it’s exciting. But I hate all the fighting.”

“Ha.” Ashley interrupted them with a loud phony laugh. “If you don’t like fighting, you’re with the wrong guy. You know Owen is one of the Bannister Brawlers. Those guys get in fights all the time. I heard Owen punched a waiter last week for bringing him white wine instead of red.”

What? That was crazy. And didn’t sound like the Owen she knew.

But Gabby had only really known him for a few days now. Maybe there was another layer to his dark side than she’d hadn’t seen yet.

“Well, that’s understandable. You can’t be expected to drink white with steak,” Justin said, deflating the impact of Ashley’s comment by making a joke of it. He took a last swallow of his beer and nodded at the two women as he slid out of the booth. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies. We need to get back to the game.”

Gabby scooted out after him. “Nice to meet you.” But it hadn’t been. It hadn’t been nice at all. In fact, all of their comments settled on Gabby like a cloud as she sunk into her seat, and the players took the ice.

The Summit was still ahead, but as the clock ticked closer to the final minutes, the play became more aggressive. Gabby’s heart raced with the intensity of the game, and she wiped her sweating hands on her thighs.

Suddenly, the opposing team got a breakaway, skating down the ice and charging toward the net. Owen hunkered down in front of the goal, his large frame serving as a shield to protect the goalie.

Gabby held her breath as she watched the opposing player fake right, then take a shot around Owen’s side, right before he crashed into him. The puck flew at the goal, pinging off the post and soaring into the net.

The crowd was on its feet, booing and screaming words like ‘interference’ and ‘roughing’.

Seconds after the shot, Owen and the other player crashed into the goalie—all of them going down in a heap. The player shot a fist out at Owen’s head, and he retaliated by shoving the player across the ice. They clumsily stood and threw their gloves to the ground before attacking each other. The look on Owen’s face was menacing as he gritted his teeth in fierce anger.

The referees raced to the two men, blowing their whistles and trying to pull them apart as their fists flew at each other. Owen had the tail of the other man’s shirt and was pulling it over his head as he punched his fist into the side of his face. A spray of blood flew from the man’s mouth and landed in a bright red streak on the ice.

Gabby covered her face with her hands. This was too much. Too real. Too much like the violence she’d grown up with. But she’d escaped that violence. Gotten away from a man who thought he could solve problems and control people with intimidation and his fists.

She felt nauseated as the people in the stands stood and yelled for blood. How could the guy on the ice beating someone to a bloody pulp be the same man who grinningly teased her as he sprinkled chocolate dust on cupcakes? She couldn’t equate the two sides of this man.

Peering between her fingers, she saw the refs finally pull the two men apart and drag them to the penalty boxes. Fans booed and yelled at the opposing player as the glass door swung shut, and he slumped onto the bench.

Owen sat on the bench in the other box, now laughing but still hurling insults at the opposing player as he drew in the frenzied response of the crowd.

He actually
liked
this. He was enjoying himself.

Justin touched her leg. “It’s not as bad as it seems. It’s all part of the game.”

She nodded, reaching for her bottle of soda and taking a sip to settle her nerves. “I know. It just reminds me of—” She didn’t have to say the words. Her brother had been on the receiving end of her stepdad’s fists too many times and knew all too well what it reminded her of.

“It’s not like that. It’s not one guy who is stronger picking on someone weaker just to prove he’s a man. These are all big tough guys. They get paid for this. And they’re wearing pads.” He rubbed her shoulder in a show of comfort. “They’re not the same. It’s not like that. Plus, I’ve spent some time with Owen. He’s a good guy.”

He was a good guy. But was he good for her?

The opposing team took advantage of the Summit’s best defenseman being in the box, and within a few minutes scored another goal.

The announcer gave a synopsis of what needed to happen in the last minute of the game, talking through the strengths and weaknesses of the team. “After that first goal, Bannister can’t seem to recover his momentum. He’s got to be missing his brother. I know the rest of the team sure is.”

Was Owen’s life always like this? Like he was on exhibit—his every move being dissected and judged. How did he handle it?

She was typically a private person. All of the attention from Twitter and the press this week had exhausted her. She figured most of it would die down pretty soon. Another story would take its place. Something more interesting than her and Owen selling a few cupcakes.

For now, she’d just make the best of it. And be thankful for the increased exposure it was bringing to her business.

Justin nudged her and pointed at the Jumbo-Tron in the center of the rink. A huge picture of them was on the screen. Speaking of being on display. What the heck was she supposed to do now? Wave? Smile? Make a goofy face?

Luckily, she wasn’t the only one on the screen, and the kid sitting next to her saved her by standing up and breaking into a frenzied dance.

Whew. All she could do was laugh and cheer on the kid’s crazy moves then the camera switched to another group of fans.

No. She didn’t know how Owen did this all the time.

The Jumbo-Tron switched to a caption that read “Make Some Noise” and the crowd roared in response. The buzzer sounded, signaling his two minute penalty was up, and Owen shot from the box and onto the ice.

Determination on his face, he raced for the puck, slamming another player into the boards as he jammed his stick at his feet. Freeing the puck, he shot it down the ice toward his fellow player, who skated it toward the net.

The fans surged to their feet, yelling and screaming as the clock wound down on this last chance to score. The loud crack of impact sounded as the player’s stick connected to the puck and it shot through the air, flying toward the goal.

Gabby held her breath, gripping Justin’s hand, as she watched the puck sail through the air and right into the goalie’s glove.

A huge groan of defeat rose from the crowd as the final buzzer sounded, indicating the end of the game and a 2-1 loss for the Colorado Summit.

“Well, that sucks.” Justin picked up their coats.

Her thoughts exactly. “It sucks more for Owen than it does for us.”

“What do we do now?”

“Owen said it would be a couple of hours before he gets out of here, so we should just go on to the club without him, and he’ll grab a cab and meet us there later.”

“It’ll probably take us an hour to get out of here anyway. Where are we going again?”

“The Tap. It’s downtown so it shouldn’t take us too long to get there. I don’t know. I’ve never been there.”

“I have. It’s a cool club, kinda retro. Owen was telling me about his brother’s band. I’m excited to hear them.”

“Me, too. Have you heard of them before?”

“Yeah, totally. They’re the hot ticket right now. Their shows usually sell out the first day, and they’re rumored to be on the verge of breaking out.”

Gabby didn’t know exactly what ‘breaking out’ meant, but from the look of reverence and awe on her brother’s face, she assumed it was a good thing.

It didn’t surprise her. It seemed like these Bannister boys were quite the talented bunch.

Chapter Eleven

Owen handed the cabbie a twenty as he pulled up in front of the club. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he slammed the door of the cab and rubbed his hands together against the cold.

The cold air was fitting for his chilly mood. They’d had that game in the bag. The Summit had played better and had more shots on goal. They should have won—
would
have won—if only they’d had Bane playing with them tonight.

The burden of the loss—and his brother’s eminent trade—weighed heavily on his shoulders as he stepped in to the club. The pulse of the music and the crowded atmosphere did nothing to improve his mood or the headache pounding against his skull.

The bouncer must have recognized him, or he passed his test to enter the club, because he nodded and let down the rope for him to pass.

Owen moved through the masses, scanning the room for Gabby and her brother. Being tall had its advantages as he looked over the heads of most of the crowd. Justin was tall as well, and should be easy to spot. Owen headed for the bar, keeping an eye out for Gabby’s lanky, bearded brother.

He could feel the dark mood settling on him, and he knew his face was set in an annoyed scowl. Which probably worked in his favor as it hopefully kept zealous fans from approaching him to pour over the details of the game.

The game was over. He couldn’t change it. Couldn’t go back and replay it. All he could do now was move on and play better in the next game.

A flash of chestnut hair caught his eye. A guy in a black jacket grabbed his drinks and moved away from the bar, and Owen saw Gabby sitting in the chair behind him.

Her brother leaned on the bar next to her, and her attention was focused on him, her chin tilted to the side to hear him better. Justin must have said something funny because she tipped her head back and laughed, and the tension in Owen’s chest eased.

Then, as if being drawn by an invisible pull, she turned her head and saw him. Her face broke into a smile, and that was it. That was the moment he knew. Knew that this girl was something special. Something more.

The corners of his lips curved into a smile as he headed toward her. Everything else in the room fell away—the noise of the crowd, the sound of the music—everything except her. His hands itched to touch her, to feel her.

She stood as he approached, her smile beatific. And just for him. She opened her arms, and he grabbed her, pulling her to him in a hug that lifted her off her feet. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her sweet feminine scent and spoke into her ear. “Hey, Angel.”

“Hey there.” She squeezed him back, as if genuinely happy to see him. No haughty indifference. No spoiled brat behavior. No games.

That’s what he liked about Gabby. She was real. No bullshit.

She didn’t play the stupid games that most of the women he knew did. The ones who acted hard to get, who acted like he had to prove something to win them over, when they both knew that she’d be flat on her back with her legs spread by the end of the night.

Gabby wasn’t like that. She wasn’t nice because she wanted something from him or because she was trying to prove she was better than anyone else. She was nice just to be nice. Because she had a big heart and didn’t have a stuck-up, vindictive bone in her body. And he didn’t realize how much he’d been missing that until this moment.

The moment that she smiled at him and held out her arms. The moment that the burdens of the game lifted from his shoulders just by holding her against him.

All of that other stuff fell away—the loss, Bane’s trade, all of the stuff that made him feel like a colossal screw-up—fell away when he held her in his arms, and she looked up at him. Looked at him like he meant something. Like he
was
something. Something more. And something that he wanted to be.
Someone
that he wanted to be.

He grinned down at her as he ran his hand down her back and settled it on her waist. “I like your jersey. It looks much better than that other guy’s that you’ve been wearing.”

“I’m not giving up my Bronco jersey, but I’ll agree to wear this one when that one’s in the wash.” She laughed. “Thank you for getting it for me. And for getting one for my brother, too. That was really sweet of you.”

“Happy to. I needed the only two fans I have left to show up and represent for the Bannisters.” Owen reached out his free hand to shake Justin’s. “Thanks for coming to the game.”

Justin shook his hand heartily. “Yeah. It was great. And thanks for the jersey. This is so cool. I’m a fan of both you and your brother.”

Too bad that jersey may end up being a limited edition. Who knew if Bane would get to don the Summit colors again?

“Sorry about the game, dude,” Justin said.

Owen shrugged. “Me, too.” He checked his watch. “Nate’s band should be starting up in a few minutes. How about I get this next round, and we’ll grab a table at the front. He nodded at the bartender and gestured to the beer in Justin’s hand. “Couple more. And whatever she’s having.”

Gabby held up her drink in a mock toast. “I’m driving so I’m having a Diet Coke.”

See?
Nice.

And probably way too good for him. But right now, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except being here—here with her—listening to his brother play, watching her laugh and holding her hand.

***

Nate’s band was good. Really good.

Gabby got lost in the music, lost in the rhythm and the lyrics as Nate Bannister stood on the stage captivating the entire room. He looked enough like Owen and Bane to be able to tell they were brothers, but Nate’s hair was longer and he wasn’t quite as tall. He was probably still over six feet, and muscular, but not in the same way that his hockey-playing brothers were.

Nate was lean and still looked strong, but unlike Owen and Bane, who were solid muscle, their arms and legs thick from constantly working out.

Nate was different. His eyes were soulful, slightly hooded and looked like they held the secrets of the universe. Dreamy.

Like his music. Soulful and bluesy, a combination of alternative and grunge, with just a little southern rock. His music was different, but good. Amazing actually. One song had you dancing in place, the rhythm so catchy you had to move, and the next had your heart in a vise, the lyrics and the tempo holding you in their grip.

Nate played the guitar and sang, his voice a blend of deep whiskey and husky growls, and he had the whole place eating out of his hand.

After an hour and much to the displeasure of the crowd, the band announced that they were taking a quick break. Nate hopped off the stage and made his way to their table.

Owen grabbed him and pulled him into a bear hug. “Hey, little brother.”

Nate clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, O. Thanks for coming, especially on a game night. I was at Mom and Dad’s earlier and caught most of it—sweet goal. You guys should have had it. That was just tough luck you didn’t win.”

Owen shrugged, but Gabby thought she caught the slight sting of disappointment in his eyes. “There’ll be another game.” He reached for her hand and pulled her to him. “I want you to meet Gabby. Gabby, this is Nate.”

Nate wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a quick hug. Geez, this was a whole family of huggers.

He grinned down at her. His eyes were the same shade of blue as his brother’s, and he had the same easy Bannister charm. “So you’re this angel he can’t stop talking about. Now I can see why.” He elbowed Owen in the ribs. “And she does smell amazing—like cake and flowers.”

“Told you so.” Owen winked and drew her back against his side.

“Your band is great,” Gabby said, feeling like a pinball bouncing around in a machine, and trying to get the focus off how she smelled.
Did he really talk about her all the time?
She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep her hands from shaking. “I’m really enjoying it.”

Nate chuckled. “Thanks. We just lost our backup singer, so we’ve been kind of winging it tonight. Do you sing? Maybe you and O could come up and give me a hand.”

She raised an eyebrow at Owen. “You sing? I thought you said you could just barely play the guitar.”

“Just barely? This guy is a master,” Nate said. “He used to fill in on guitar and vocals with the band. But that was before he got all famous doing this little hockey gig.”

She grinned up at Owen. “You’re just full of surprises.”

“Yeah, I’m a real man of mystery. Thanks, bro.” Owen punched his brother good-naturedly in the arm. “Maybe you could invite her over later to show her some embarrassing baby pictures. Or better yet, we could bring out some old pictures from high school, and she could check out your mullet.”

“It wasn’t a mullet. It was rocker hair.” Nate laughed. “And speaking of rocking it, I’d better get back.”

“It was great meeting you, Nate.”

“You, too. Either of you have any requests?”

She shook her head. “I’ve loved everything you’ve played so far.”

“I like this girl. She’s easy to please.”

“Yeah, well I saw her first, so don’t be getting any ideas,” Owen said. “Why don’t you play something slow so I can ask my girl to dance?”

“You got it, bro.” Nate pushed through the crowd and climbed onto the stage. The crowd cheered as he picked up his guitar and started a new song.

My
girl. Owen had said he wanted to ask
his
girl to dance. It was silly. It probably meant nothing. But it made the butterflies already twirling in Gabby’s stomach spin and flutter, crashing into each other in frenzied elation. She couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across her face.

Owen sat back on the stool at a tall round table, and pulled Gabby into the circle of his legs. “I was afraid of this.” He leaned forward and spoke into her ear so she could hear him above the music.

She loved the feeling of being so close to him, surrounded by his strong legs, and her hands ached to touch him. Leaning against his thigh, she brushed her fingers against his solid chest as she leaned in to talk to him. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid if I brought you here and introduced you to my little brother and you heard him play, you’d fall in love with him and forget all about me.”

She jostled against him, her hip grazing his denim-clad thigh, and sending a shot of warm desire running up her back. “He is pretty cute,” she teased.

He cupped her neck, pulling her ear closer to his mouth. His breath was warm against her skin. “Just remember, he doesn’t have any of my stellar cupcake-making skills.”

“You do have some pretty good skills.”

He chuckled and ran the back of his fingers down her throat. “I thought you were interested in some of my other skills.”

The feel of his fingers skimming her skin sent shivers of pleasure through her, and her eyes threatened to close in bliss. She tipped her chin up, her lips now dangerously close to his. “Oh yeah? Which skills did you have in mind?”

He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers.

Her breath caught. Her nerves alert in anticipation. He hadn’t kissed her, really kissed her since the night of the party. And she hadn’t been able to get that night out of her mind.

“My dancing skills.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips, just enough to leave her wanting more.

This man was going to kill her.

Could you actually die from lust? From the ache of wanting to touch and taste and feel another person?

He stood, wrapped an arm around her waist, and led her onto the crowded dance floor.

Not that she noticed anyone else. Or anything else. All of her focus was on him—fitting her body tightly against him, his leg settling between hers, the feel of his stubbled cheek against hers as he swayed with her to the music.

The band was playing a slow song and as they hit the final verse, all the band members stopped playing. Except for Nate. The room took on a surreal feeling as Nate’s voice, clear and rich, sang the final verse, his only accompaniment his guitar.

Owen’s arms encircled her waist and she leaned her head against his chest. Tipping her head, she smiled up at him. He grinned back, then leaned down and kissed her.

Not the light grazing kiss of a few minutes ago, but a real kiss—one filled with longing and desire. His lips crushed hers, sending her a clear message of want and need.

She pressed against him, her fingers digging into his hair as she met his passion with her own.

He pulled back, his breath ragged, his eyes steely and intense. “You want to get out of here?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, her mind flooded with images of being alone with him, of ripping off their clothes, of being naked and beneath him. She nodded, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

“What about your brother?”

What brother?
She peered around the room and caught sight of Justin leaning on the bar, capturing the rapt attention of a pretty brunette. “He’ll be fine. I’ll text him that we’re leaving, and he’ll either get a ride home later or take a cab.”

That must have been all Owen needed to hear. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd, his height and build easily parting the way. She followed behind him, admiring his great butt and trying not to drool in anticipation of what was to come.