looked like gin. “This is our best gin,” she said. “My brother makes it right here. Dyer’s Medallion.” She handed him the bottle, then filled two glasses with ice and long stems of thyme.
“So, this is his distillery?”
“It’s ours, an equal split between my brother, sister, and me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, handing the bottle back to her so she could pour it. “I just assumed you worked here. As an employee, I mean.”
“I guess I do. I just happen to own it, as well.”
He watched her competently pour a generous measure into each glass, followed by a splash of tonic water. “Cheers,” she said, passing him a glass and raising her own.
“Skål,” he said. He took a sip. “This is really good.”
Olivia laughed. “Hearing that never gets old. My brother is a genius at finding and distilling botanicals. That’s why it tastes like that. Do you live here, or did you just fly in for Karl’s wedding?”
“Just for the wedding. I live in Phoenix.”
She took a sip of her drink and then ran her tongue slowly over her lower lip. “And what do you do in Phoenix?”
He studied those innocent eyes of hers, lined with thick lashes. Unless she was a great actress, he could tell she didn’t know.
“I’m a hockey player too.”
“Forgive me, I don’t really watch sports, but what position do you play?”
Olivia had no idea who he was, how much he was worth, how he played for Sweden’s national team. To her, he was just another guy, and it was refreshing. “I’m a center, a forward position, and primarily play the middle of the ice. I’m also the alternate captain for the team.”
“Do you get hurt? Hockey’s a very . . .strenuous game.”
He ran his hand gingerly along the bruise on his left hip and grimaced. “It happens. Sure, it can get rough, but no one laces their skates with the idea of permanently injuring someone else.”
Olivia’s face suddenly looked concerned. “Oh my gosh. Are you hurt now? And you were standing all that time in the kitchen? Why didn’t you say something? Do you need ice? I should get you a cab so you can go and rest it or something. I—”
“Olivia.” Anders placed his hand over hers. “My hip is fine. A bit bruised, but fine. And I happen to want to be here, with you. Right now. If that doesn’t bother you.”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a shy smile. “It doesn’t bother me. I like it that you’re here too.”
She took a sip of her drink, and he had to stop watching those lips of hers.
“When do you fly back?”
Anders glanced at his watch. It was already after midnight. Christmas Day. “Early on the twenty-sixth.”
“That sucks. Who wants an early flight the day after Christmas?”
He nodded. “True. But better than tomorrow.”
Olivia broke their gaze but grinned as she bit her lip and busied herself cleaning down the counter. “Flying must be a challenge for you. How tall are you exactly?”
“I’m lucky I get to travel in first class or by charter jet but it’s still a bit of a squeeze, and I’m six feet, two inches. Two hundred and twelve pounds. Twenty-three years old.”
Lines appeared between Olivia’s brow, and he reached out without thinking to smooth them with his thumb. “You don’t like those stats?” he said self-deprecatingly.
Olivia reached up and pulled the elastic out of her hair, shaking it all loose so the waves fell over her shoulders. It made her look younger. “Yours are fine,” she said, running her fingers through it. “I don’t like my own.” She took a large gulp of the gin.
He reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers. “Whatever those numbers are, they look really good on you.”
Olivia shrugged. “They are what they are right now.”
Unable to resist, he pulled her hand toward his mouth and kissed each knuckle. “What they are, is spectacular. If you came back to my room with me tonight, I’d spend what’s left of the darkest hours showing you just how incredible you are.”
Olivia laughed as if he’d just made a joke and slipped her fingers out of his. “Nice try, but no.” She picked up the bottle of gin and placed it back onto the rack.
It had been an easy line, meant to bring her smile back. But as he watched her ass as she bent over to grab a cloth that had been dropped on the floor, he realized he really meant it.
“Olivia, look at