On the Surface (In the Zone) (9 page)

Chapter Eleven

Erin went about her duties diligently as always, but her thoughts kept returning to Tim. On her break, she went to the nursery to gaze at the newborns like she sometimes did, but she ended up playing the What If Game with herself instead.

What if she’d gone to bed with him after the beach? She’d have been all sticky and gross. A shower would have been a must.

But what if they’d taken a shower
together?
She imagined great shower sex. Really great shower sex.

But what if he was a crappy lover? Assuming girls threw themselves at his feet, maybe he never had to do much in bed. Maybe his skills on the ice kicked ass, but his sexual technique sucked.

No. She didn’t believe that. He was a fantastic kisser. She instinctively knew they would set the sheets on fire.

She was deep into LaLa Land wondering what was so bad about sleeping with someone before three weeks was up when Dr. O walked up.

“Tammy told me I might find you here.”

She turned to him and said in a frosty voice, “It’s sort of my Zen place. You can’t look at a sleeping baby and not feel calmer.”

After breakfast with Tim, she’d intended to assure Dr. O that she and Tim were not sleeping together, even if they had literally slept together, but her feelings about Dr. O had become...confused. She had never gotten the feeling that Dr. O had a God complex like so many surgeons did, but he’d been so condescending at the restaurant, now she wondered. He’d also fallen all over himself to make sure his tennis partner understood that there was no hanky-panky going on between them. What had that been about? He’d acted like she had a social disease.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I almost went into obstetrics myself.” He put his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “Say, can we go down and get a cup of coffee together?”

“I guess so.”

He bought them both coffee and Erin got a cookie as well. They sat at a table away from the other diners.

“I’ve been wanting to apologize to you,” he said. “After thinking about it, I realized I acted like a jerk.”

“Yes, you did,” she said, feeling proud of herself. Prior to Tim, she might have let him off the hook and insisted he hadn’t done anything wrong. Those days were over. No more fawning around Dr. O.

“I think you’re a very attractive woman. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to cross the line and try to get to know you better, but I had a bad experience once with a nurse a few years ago that made me wary.”

“What happened?”

“Just like any other work romance gone bad, when the relationship ended, she was bitter and hurt and it made for a very awkward situation in the hospital afterward. I love my work. You love your work. I’d hate to see either of us dread coming here.

“But the truth is, I’ve been interested in you from the very beginning. I love your brownies. I look forward to days when I do rounds and you’re here. I admire your skill as a nurse as well. It’s always a relief to see you on duty. I know my patients get the best of care from you.”

Erin sat there, dumbfounded. She should have been ecstatic. The man she’d been longing for for months just told her he was interested in dating her, and yet all she felt was surprise, mingled with skepticism. Why had he waited until now? Did the fact that Tim showed an interest in her have anything to do with it?

He smiled and put his spoon on his napkin. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for the way I acted and I’d like it if we could grab a bite together sometime. I don’t think you’re the type of person who will get nasty if we decided it wouldn’t work out.”

“Er, thanks.”

“So you’re off at seven, right? How about breakfast?”

She shook her head. “I have plans already.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You and Hollander. Right?”

“Dr. O...”

“Call me Adrian.”

“Adrian.” She felt strange using his first name. Lowering her voice, she said, “Tim and I aren’t involved. We’re going on a date, yes, but we’re not...sleeping together. I know it sounded like we were the other day, but we’re not. He got food poisoning the night before and I helped him through it. He’s new in town and living at the Marriott and...” She shrugged.

“Of course. That explains everything.” Adrian smiled with relief.

They ended up making a date for lunch later in the week before she left for the conference and when he got up, he took her hand and squeezed it. It really didn’t do much for her. So, what now? That’s what she asked Tammy a couple of hours later when she was getting ready to meet Tim.

“What now? Silly girl. You enjoy yourself.”

“How can I enjoy myself? I feel like I’m cheating on two people at once.”

“It can’t be cheating if they both know you’re seeing the other one.”

“Tim doesn’t know I have a lunch date with Adrian.”

“So tell him. Tell him he’s not the only dog in the yard.”

Erin raised her eyebrow. “Does that make me the bitch in this scenario?”

Tammy laughed. “Bad choice of metaphor. Sorry. I just meant that he should know he’s got competition. It can’t hurt for him to realize he doesn’t have exclusive rights.”

Chapter Twelve

“All right, fellas, you’re done,” Nick said. “Kyla has your smoothies.”

Tim, Jason and Alex had just finished their workout and were about to enjoy post-workout smoothies at Power Play. From the purple hue, it looked as if it contained a lot of berries. Training camp was only nine days away, and Tim had to admit that after ten solid weeks, he felt stronger, more balanced. More so, he was certain he’d outperform Alex on the physicals. Even though Alex had worked surprisingly hard here at Power Play, the guy liked to live life on his terms. He drank, he ate what he wanted, partied often.

Case in point...

“So, guess who scored a date with a Victoria’s Secret model?” Alex asked as they sipped their smoothies.

Tim exchanged a glance Jason and shrugged. “Daniel Craig?”

Jason jumped in with, “I was going to say that guy who made the male stripper movie. Can’t remember his name.”

“Very funny,” Alex said, the grin on his face still broad. He pulled out his phone and showed them a picture of a gorgeous young brunette dressed in a frilly white bra-and-panties set and a gigantic pair of feathered, white angel wings. She wore stethoscope around her neck and there was a red cross made of red sequins on the panties. “This is Leilani Harlow, my own personal angel of mercy. Also appearing in the upcoming
Sports Illustrated
Swimsuit Issue.”

“Christ, Alex,” Tim said. “How old is she? Eighteen?”

“She is twenty-one.”

“You sure?”

“We went out for a drink and she showed her ID.”

“What did you talk about?” Jason asked. “The newest Justin Bieber song?”

Alex took a playful swing at Jason, who easily dodged it. “I don’t plan on talking to her all that much.”

“Alex,” Tim said. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I have a thing for sexy nurses. Back when I was fifteen, I broke my leg and while I was in the hospital, this nurse gave me a sponge bath and a massive boner. I remember asking her if she was going to wash my dick and she laughed. And that laugh...it was so throaty. You have no idea how long I jerked off to the fantasy of her giving me a hand job...”

“So you should have no problem going with me to visit this kid Luke in the hospital,” Tim said. “You’ll be doing a good deed
and
getting new material for your sick nurse fantasies.”

“Oh, you should talk,” Alex replied. “You’re the one boning a nurse.”

“Hey, I’m not boning her. She’s nice.”

Alex smirked. “So you only bone the naughty ones?”

“Fuck you very much,” Tim said. “She’s off-limits. Understand? I like her.”

Alex lifted his chin to show he got the message. “Okay. It’s cool.”

“I meant to ask you about her,” Jason said. “I saw you guys on the news. She’s more than a damsel fan who was in distress?”

“I’ve seen her a couple of times. We’ll see where it goes.” Tim wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “In the meantime, like I was saying, I want you two to come with me to lift the spirits of a little kid who just got a heart transplant.”

“Huh. You just want points with nursy-nurse for bringing some of your buddies with you,” Alex said.

“That’s not the reason I want to do this. The kid’s a hockey player.”

“Hey, the same kid we signed that poster for?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Sure,” Jason said, “I’ll be there.”

“Me too,” Alex said. “Just tell me the day and time, and as long as I’m not in bed with Leilani, you can count on me.”

Both Jason and Alex had flown to Chicago to attend Mollie’s funeral, which had meant the world to Tim.

“Thanks, guys,” Tim said. “Wait until you see his room—wall-to-wall hockey stuff. He’s nuts about the Barracudas.”

“Sounds like my kind of kid,” Alex said.

After they said goodbye, Tim went back to the hotel to get ready for his brunch date with Erin. He reflected on the fact that at one time in his life he might have been jealous of Alex. Leilani was beautiful and sexy as hell. She was also probably a very nice person, but Tim had trouble viewing her as anything but an object. Maybe because she’d made a career out of just that. Or maybe because he didn’t want to go to bed with anyone but Erin. Not only that, he realized even though he was dying to get naked with her, sex wasn’t the finish line. He wanted to spend time with her before and after just as much. She was real and honest. She wasn’t trying to impress him or force him to notice her, like so many other women did. On the contrary, Jason and Alex had hit the nail on the head. Tim was trying to impress
her
.

Back at the Marriott, Tim tried to find a good place for their date. According to the internet, La Petite Café had an impressive number of five-star ratings, but it also had four dollar signs next to it. It went without question that the food would be stellar, but he didn’t want to be obvious. His mom had told him the most lasting way to impress a woman was to be thoughtful.

“
Thoughtfulness doesn’t cost anything
,
Timothy
,
but it’s far more valuable than anything you can buy.
”

Recalling that pancakes were Erin’s favorite food, he then researched pancake houses. Aunt Pam’s sounded promising. Online reviewers declared they offered the best buttermilk flapjacks around and a dozen different types of syrup to top them. They also had a wide variety of sandwiches, salads and homemade soups. Perfect.

* * *

Aunt Pam’s wasn’t very crowded since it was a weekday. Erin commented on the fresh flowers on the table and the cozy décor. He really hadn’t noticed. He only had eyes for her. She wore a white, blousy top with two strings at the neck she’d left untied. He found it hard to resist looking at the small amount of breast she’d left visible. As she walked ahead of him to the table, he transferred his attention at her cute little ass. Ever since he’d fondled it the other morning, he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. The soft firmness. How perfectly it fit in his hand. How she’d briefly pressed herself against his back when his fingers delved between her cheeks.

Fuck. If he kept this up, he’d have to go jerk off in the men’s room.

As they opened their menus, he forced himself to concentrate on the food. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t go to bed with him until they’d known each other three weeks. He respected that. He truly did. Just as he hoped she respected his need to keep trying. Women might say they appreciated gentlemen, but if a guy made no moves at all, it had to make them question his sexuality at the very least and probably their own ability to turn the man on too. Nah. It was all a part of the game men and women had been playing since Adam and Eve.

They both ordered breakfast, available all day. Tim got the sampler—every meat on the menu, eggs, pancakes, fruit, hash browns and toast. Erin ordered pigs in a blanket. She ate the sausage first, saving the best for last, she said.

“Did you try this raspberry-coconut syrup?” she asked, pushing the bottle toward him. “It’s to die for. I wonder if they sell it? I’m going to go see.”

He was fantasizing about licking raspberry-coconut syrup off her breasts when a phone alert indicated an incoming email. Locke had finally replied to his question about a nice place to live, close to the arena. Tim had been living at the Marriott and he was sick of it. While he didn’t mind road trips—they could be fun, especially when the team won—it was always good to get home to his own bed, his own stuff. Theoretically, he could find a place to rent, get his crap out of storage and set himself up in just a few days, but he’d kept putting it off, thinking he had all summer. There was so much crap involved, so many large and small decisions. Every time he thought about buckling down and finding a real-estate agent, he’d find something else more important to do. Like buy toothpaste.

Erin returned before he could read the whole email.

“Bad news?” she asked. “You look upset.”

Embarrassed at having been caught using his phone during a date, he said, “No, I just have to buckle down and find a place to live.” He held up his phone. “My friend Jason is trying to help me out.”

“What kind of place are you looking for?”

“Something close to the arena and our practice facility. The airport too. Sometimes our flights come in really late and I don’t want a long commute. I wouldn’t mind a high-rise condo. With a view of the ocean maybe...what? What is it? You keep nodding and smiling.”

“That’s because I think I know the perfect place. It’s called CityView. Very luxurious, and very expensive. State-of-the-art kitchens. Do you cook?”

“I get by.”

“They have a full gym, a screening room, pool, spa and sauna. And I don’t know where your training facility is, but CityView probably five, ten minutes from the Mesa Arena.”

“That actually does sound perfect,” he said. “Where did you hear about this place? You know a lot about it.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “My sister lives there.”

“Oh, hey wait a minute. CityView.” He pulled up Jason’s email. Sure enough, that was one of the places he’d talked about. A couple of the Padres lived there, according to Jason.

“I think they’re still selling units. You can probably just go to the sales office. Let me check for you.”

Erin called her sister, Claire. “Sis, a friend of mine is interested in buying a place at CityView. Should he just go to the sales office?”

“A friend of yours?” Claire asked. “Who?”

“His name is Tim. He’s a Barracuda.”

“What does that mean? Is he a stock trader?”

Tim laughed. He could hear Claire as clear as day even though she wasn’t on speaker.

“No. He’s a hockey player. A San Diego Barracuda.”

“You made friends with a hockey player? Was his kid sick or something?”

“It’s a long story I don’t have time to tell you now.”

“Okay. He should come over to my place and check it out. You should both come. I have that wall mirror that you wanted. Plus, I made cookies.”

“He doesn’t want to eat your cookies.”

“Yes, I do,” Tim said.

Erin covered up the phone with her hand. “No you don’t.”

“I heard that,” Claire said. “These are good. Really.”

“I’ll let you know,” Erin said and hung up. She slumped back into her chair. “Okay, here’s the deal. My sister is a Martha Stewart wannabe. She doesn’t have a job, so how she keeps busy is crafts and redecorating mostly. But her most recent project is a food blog. She’s dubbed herself The Cookie Gal and has dedicated herself to blogging about cookies.”

“Are they bad? You said I wouldn’t want to eat them.” Tim had finished his breakfast while she was on the phone, but he always had room for cookies.

“No, a lot of them are good, but she’s been on this healthy cookie kick for a while, and I love my sister, but a lot of those were just disgusting.”

They got into Tim’s SUV and drove to CityView, thirty-six floors of blue reflective glass on the outside and wall-to-wall Carrara marble on the inside. A doorman checked their identification and showed them to the elevators. Opera music, not to Tim’s taste, played in the elevator. Erin pressed the button for the eighteenth floor.

Tim mused that there must be robots on duty twenty-four hours a day keeping the complex clean. He couldn’t see a speck of dirt or dust anywhere. Everything was of the highest quality and probably cost a pretty penny in monthly fees.

Claire greeted Erin with a hug and a loud cheek kiss, and Tim with a wide smile and well-manicured outstretched hand.

“Tim, great to meet you. I’m Claire, Erin’s sister. Please come in.”

He could see a resemblance. Both sisters had the same nose, the same hands. Claire looked perfectly put together. She seemed like the type of woman who rarely had a hair out of place, and if she saw one, it didn’t stay that way for long.

“Nice place,” he said, following Claire into the living room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows and a spacious balcony outside. Erin told him Claire’s husband, Vic, owned a large fleet of limousines, town cars and party vehicles, the largest in the San Diego area.

“This view is spectacular.”

“Thank you. Let me give you a tour.”

Erin was right. The place was beautifully decorated in rich colors and textures, big live plants, the kind he’d have to hire a plant wrangler to take care of or see them die. There were personal touches and eclectic items. One wall displayed enlarged photos of the couple in various exotic locales. He saw a strangely appealing glass sculpture and expressed admiration for the large tropical fish tank built into the wall dividing the living room from the dining room.

Tim didn’t have to see the entire place to know he wanted to live in this building. Claire talked about the long list of amenities—the state-of-the-art gym, the juice bar, screening room, the twenty-four-hour doorman, a private entrance for residents and an honest to God concierge. He could easily imagine himself waking up to the phenomenal view every morning.

Eventually, Claire led them back to the living room where she served some excellent coffee and the much-speculated-about cookies. They looked good to Tim.

“Okay, what kind are they?” Erin asked, a highly skeptical look on her face.

“Dark chocolate, cherry, pistachio and smoked sea salt. The original recipe didn’t call for cherries. I added that.”

“Do they have gluten? And sugar? And butter?”

“Yes, all of that and more.”

“Well, all right.” She looked at Tim. “You first.”

Tim took a cookie and sniffed it. Smelled good. He took a big bite. Nice crunchy outside, a chewy inside. “It’s terrific. I love pistachios. I’m getting a little almond too.”

Claire practically clapped her hands. “I put some marzipan in there. Have as many as you want. I’ll send some home with you in a Ziploc.” She offered the plate to Erin, who took a cookie. “So, how do you two know each other?” Claire asked with all the subtlety of a nosy sister.

Erin looked at him and he shrugged. “She wanted my autograph,” he said.

“Really?” Claire glanced at Erin. “I didn’t know you liked hockey,”

“I, ah, don’t.” She took a cookie and bit into it. “But I’ve never watched a game, so who knows?”