Free True Love and Other Disasters by Rachel Gibson Page B

to write about was “the palpable friction” between him and Mrs. Duffy. In the sports section last Sunday, the Seattle Times had devoted a full three paragraphs to the supposed “sparks” before they’d gotten around to mentioning his hat trick or goalie Marty Darche’s impressive thirty-six saves. Frankie Kawczynski had broken a finger mixing it up in the corner with Doug Weight, and all she’d had to do was breeze into the lounge with her blonde hair and big boobs and the press corps lost its damn mind. If anything, he wanted her less visible. Less involved with the press. Not more.
    Faith looked up from the press clippings in front of her. “I had no idea they blew that up and made something of it.” Her big green eyes looked up at him. “Did you?”
    “Of course. You didn’t read the Chinooks coverage?” What had she been doing?
    “Jules has given them to me, but I’ve been busy.”
    With what? Meeting with the lover she’d been talking to the day of Virgil’s funeral? Is that what she’d meant by a rough day ?
    “We think this will pack the seats with fans,” Tim continued. “We’re all aware the ticket sales have not yet reached the pre-lockout numbers. If fans think there might be some friction between the team’s captain and the female owner, they might turn out to see it for themselves.”
    Bo what’s-her-name added, “We think it’s a good angle. Sexy, and as everyone knows, sex and controversy sells.”
    Ty sat back in his chair and frowned. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. What were they planning on doing? Sexing up Mrs. Duffy? She didn’t need any more help. Or him? A T-shirt and jeans were as sexy as he got. He just wasn’t a hair-gel-wearing, blinging kind of guy.
    “I think it’s a good idea.” The king of gel and bling, Jules Garcia, pointed to one of the boards with the caption “Beauty and the Savage Beast.” “I like the idea of Faith wearing Ty’s jersey, while he’s bare chested.”
    Ty frowned. The guys would never let him live that down. “Forget it. I’m not going to be some ‘Savage Beast.’”
    “I believe it’s some Sah-vahge Beast,” the drunk woman across the table pronounced dramatically.
    Ty’s gaze moved from Tim to Mrs. Duffy. “That’s right, Miss July.”
    She twisted the pearls around one long finger and Ty’s traitorous brain flashed on the picture of her naked with a string of pearls looped around one of her breasts. “Perhaps the reporters saw something that I didn’t. Do you have a problem with me, Mr. Savage?”
    Other than she didn’t know the difference between a defenseman and a forward, and the press tripped all over themselves to get to her? Other than he’d seen her naked peach and couldn’t get it out of his head? “No. No problem.”
    “Excellent.” She smiled as her finger continued to twist those damn pearls, her red nails a bright contrast against all that beige.
    “This is all very preliminary,” Tim assured him. “We want you to feel comfortable.”
    That wasn’t going to happen. “Well Tim, I’m just never going to feel comfortable being some savage beast in a pair of hockey shorts.”
    “Would you feel more comfortable if you were a savage beast in a loincloth?” One corner of Faith’s mouth tilted up higher than the other, and he was sure she was just trying to piss him off.
    “Christ.” Ty stood and moved toward the door. “Find some other asshole.”
    “She was kidding. I think.” Tim looked at Faith. “Weren’t you?”
    “Of course.”
    “We can come up with something you like better,” the PR manager said in a rush. “We really feel this will boost sales!”
    Kidding or not, appearing on a billboard half naked wasn’t his style. His style was playing hard and putting points on the board. He reached for the doorknob. “Forget it.”
    “Baby.”
    There was a collective gasp as he stopped and turned slowly around. “What did you say?”
    Jules leaned over and spoke in her ear. She shook