was quite the sacrifice. She’d always liked Dante but this upped him even higher in her estimation.
He focused on her more closely. “How are you doing these days?”
“Good. Training hard.”
“Right, with Foreman.”
Cal must have heard his name mentioned because he finally dragged his gaze away from Rosie and spotted Mia. His eyes sparked, flaming from their usual deep brown to a dark golden whiskey. Still carrying Rosie, he walked over to where they were standing with Burnett trailing him as the safety.
“Not answering texts anymore?”
He wanted to do this here? Annoyed, she went on the defensive. “I’m not at your beck and call, Foreman. Now, hold still so I can look at this gorgeous girl.”
She leaned in, suddenly conscious that her head was close to Cal’s, and inhaled that newborn scent mixed with something more potent—just-showered hockey hunk. Tara’s words about Cal’s talent for fulfilling a lady’s needs came back to her, whacked her upside the head, and left her blushing all over.
“She’s a real cutie, isn’t she?” Cal said, his voice low and husky.
“Yeah, she is.”
“One day, Foreman,” Burnett said.
Cal smiled, a gesture that seemed to encompass Mia, whose heart had started a heavy, thudding beat. “Maybe.”
“You’d have to do a better job of not scaring women off at weddings,” Theo quipped.
Foreman laughed, ever good-natured, but Mia could tell it bothered him. Media attention about the post had died down but obviously his teammates hadn’t received the memo.
Burnett held out his arms. “Think I’ll take my daughter back before she starts to bond with her Uncle Cal.”
They did the switch off and after a few minutes, the suite was cleared of babies and rubberneckers. Mia headed into Harper’s outer office where Casey, Harper’s assistant, smiled at her.
“Her last meeting is running late and I was about to head out for lunch. But I can wait with you, if you like.”
Casey was pretty cool and a great one for gabbing about hockey, but Mia would never stand in the way of a woman and her next meal. “Off you go and eat. I can manage by myself for a few minutes.”
On her way out, Casey exchanged a few words with someone and not five seconds later, that someone appeared. Cal Foreman, the baby whisperer himself, stood at the entrance to the suite.
“We haven’t finished our conversation.”
She checked her phone. “I’m quite finished, thanks.”
He walked in and half-sat on Casey’s desk, right opposite. Something about the position spoke to her—or to places below her waist—probably because it stretched his sweats taut against thick, lumberack thighs and showcased a very impressive bulge.
First the forearms, now the thighs and the package. Damn you, Tara Becker!
“You were a no show this morning at the practice rink.”
“I figured you had training camp now. You really don’t need to waste your time on me.”
“Mia.”
She hated/loved the way he said her name, how he imbued it with a rich, soulful caress that went straight to the fork of her legs. Still avoiding his gaze because that would involve journeying past the thighs, forearms, and don’t even get her started on his pecs, she focused on her phone. Whatever was Chrissy Tiegen up to these days?
“We need to talk,” he said.
“Okay, talk.” Finally making eye contact, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
“When I said yes to your request I thought it would be more along the lines of ‘ask him about his day’ or ‘show interest in his hobbies,’ not ‘what’s the right amount of suction on a guy’s dick?’”
She waved at Harper’s closed door. “Keep it down, Big Mouth!”
He walked over, all swagger and unyielding maleness, and sat in the chair beside her. The proximity of him was unaccountably heady. She regretted ever starting this whole mentorship business.
“I told you I needed seduction tips.”
“So seduction is all about sex?”
She flapped her hands. “Well, yeah.”
He shook his head. “There are a million ways to seduce a guy before your lips even get close to his dick.” A faint blush overtook his cheeks and his eyes went dark, having swallowed all the gold.
Cal Foreman was embarrassed.
“Are you some sort of prude, Foreman?”
“No, I’m not. But I don’t even get into the weeds of this type of talk with guy friends never mind my pal’s kid sister. I’m trying not to be disrespectful.”
“Right. You can’t see me as independent of my brother. I’m not a kid anymore, Foreman. I’m a grown woman with a lady boner for a guy and I thought you could be mature enough