him with iron talons. The thought of messing up again around her left him petrified with fear, and he reverted back to the same smug, joking guy he was usually, the one she knew and probably loathed as much as she loved it. He couldn’t help it though. Not yet.
“How’s the food?” he asked. “I bet I make a better breakfast than those Montreal jokesters,” he said with a derisive huff.
There was nothing wrong with the Sabres, other than the fact that they’d taken his girl away from him. At least that’s how he chose to see it for the time being. It was far easier than admitting that he’d fucked up royally, a fact he was already keenly aware of though intermittently happily in denial of.
“Would be better if the eggs weren’t burnt,” she said with a shrug, breaking out in a giggle as Cannon gave her his best puppy dog look.
“You’re a cruel woman, Kimberley Thomas,” he sighed.
“Life’s made me that,” she quipped back.
“Listen, Kimmy, I think we need to talk,” Cannon began, seizing the moment when his brain wasn’t working at full function yet and thus less capable of fucking with his resolve of talking about the elephant, or the bear in the room, as it were.
She looked up at him, curiosity and worry in her eyes, but before she could say anything, Cannon heard a key being shoved into a lock and Heath storming in like it was D-Day and the cabin represented the beaches of Normandy. He arrived in the living room–kitchen with a flourish, breathing heavily and stinking of a heavy run, grinning wide.
“Cannon! Cannon’s glaring female friend! How nice to see you both in my house!” he said with a flourish, rounding into the kitchen side and yanking a mug off the tray by the sink, and pouring himself a big cup of coffee.
“I think you mean our house,” Cannon said with a grumble, mildly irritated as well as completely relieved that Heath had staved off his misery for later.
“If you keep kicking me outta here it’s going to be my house soon enough.”
“Point taken. Cannon, Kimberley. Kimberley, Cannon. We go way back with Kimmy here. She’s on the Sabres press team.”
Heath wiped his hand against his pants and thrust it out, Kimberley shaking it firmly.
“Are you the girl who keeps writing all of those scathing articles about us? ‘Heath Locklear, Manwhore Extraordinaire’ is by far my favorite title I’ve been graced with so far, and I think that came from you, right?”
There was no malice in Heath’s tone. He legitimately did like the fact that the world knew that he could screw his way through San Francisco one day and then conquer LA the next. But that same energy made him a hell of a fine sniper, too.
“That was me,” Kimberley said with a nod, the faintest blush on her cheeks again.
Had to admire a woman who could dish it out and admit to it. Cannon grinned, cleaning up his plate with quick scoops.
“Good. More of that. Really play me up, will you?” Heath said, giving her a wink and getting a glare from Cannon in return.
Heath looked surprised for a moment, but the small nod he offered in reply was enough to clear the air. Cannon had never been picky about Heath hitting on whoever he was with, or vice versa. But Kimberley was different. Kimberley was all Cannon’s and he wouldn’t tolerate any funny business.
“So, can I have my home back or what?” Heath asked, leaning against the counter and drinking his coffee. “Or are you two love birds nesting? Oh, and are we still up for snowboarding today? The whole team’s going. Gotta try to break some clavicles before the next game, you know.”
“Snowboarding?” Kimberley queried, flicking a look between the two men. “The Shifter Grove Shovelers are going snowboarding ? Oh, this I have to see!”
Cannon paused for a moment, mulling over his options, but then shrugged good-naturedly. Snowboarding meant messing around in the snow, and messing around in the snow meant he could end up in close quarters
“How’s the food?” he asked. “I bet I make a better breakfast than those Montreal jokesters,” he said with a derisive huff.
There was nothing wrong with the Sabres, other than the fact that they’d taken his girl away from him. At least that’s how he chose to see it for the time being. It was far easier than admitting that he’d fucked up royally, a fact he was already keenly aware of though intermittently happily in denial of.
“Would be better if the eggs weren’t burnt,” she said with a shrug, breaking out in a giggle as Cannon gave her his best puppy dog look.
“You’re a cruel woman, Kimberley Thomas,” he sighed.
“Life’s made me that,” she quipped back.
“Listen, Kimmy, I think we need to talk,” Cannon began, seizing the moment when his brain wasn’t working at full function yet and thus less capable of fucking with his resolve of talking about the elephant, or the bear in the room, as it were.
She looked up at him, curiosity and worry in her eyes, but before she could say anything, Cannon heard a key being shoved into a lock and Heath storming in like it was D-Day and the cabin represented the beaches of Normandy. He arrived in the living room–kitchen with a flourish, breathing heavily and stinking of a heavy run, grinning wide.
“Cannon! Cannon’s glaring female friend! How nice to see you both in my house!” he said with a flourish, rounding into the kitchen side and yanking a mug off the tray by the sink, and pouring himself a big cup of coffee.
“I think you mean our house,” Cannon said with a grumble, mildly irritated as well as completely relieved that Heath had staved off his misery for later.
“If you keep kicking me outta here it’s going to be my house soon enough.”
“Point taken. Cannon, Kimberley. Kimberley, Cannon. We go way back with Kimmy here. She’s on the Sabres press team.”
Heath wiped his hand against his pants and thrust it out, Kimberley shaking it firmly.
“Are you the girl who keeps writing all of those scathing articles about us? ‘Heath Locklear, Manwhore Extraordinaire’ is by far my favorite title I’ve been graced with so far, and I think that came from you, right?”
There was no malice in Heath’s tone. He legitimately did like the fact that the world knew that he could screw his way through San Francisco one day and then conquer LA the next. But that same energy made him a hell of a fine sniper, too.
“That was me,” Kimberley said with a nod, the faintest blush on her cheeks again.
Had to admire a woman who could dish it out and admit to it. Cannon grinned, cleaning up his plate with quick scoops.
“Good. More of that. Really play me up, will you?” Heath said, giving her a wink and getting a glare from Cannon in return.
Heath looked surprised for a moment, but the small nod he offered in reply was enough to clear the air. Cannon had never been picky about Heath hitting on whoever he was with, or vice versa. But Kimberley was different. Kimberley was all Cannon’s and he wouldn’t tolerate any funny business.
“So, can I have my home back or what?” Heath asked, leaning against the counter and drinking his coffee. “Or are you two love birds nesting? Oh, and are we still up for snowboarding today? The whole team’s going. Gotta try to break some clavicles before the next game, you know.”
“Snowboarding?” Kimberley queried, flicking a look between the two men. “The Shifter Grove Shovelers are going snowboarding ? Oh, this I have to see!”
Cannon paused for a moment, mulling over his options, but then shrugged good-naturedly. Snowboarding meant messing around in the snow, and messing around in the snow meant he could end up in close quarters
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