And then a soft lilting voice said from behind him, “Hi, guys!”

He turned to see the source of his distraction—Lovey Armstrong. She beamed that radiant smile, standing there in a bright red jacket, her purse over her shoulder. Her eyes shifted to Angel beside him, very close beside him, leaning in so her breasts almost brushed his arm, and Lovey’s eyes flickered, but the smile remained in full force.

“Hey, Lovey.” Army moved around the table toward his sister. “You made it.”

Marc looked at Army with a raised eyebrow. Army caught the look and shrugged, then took Lovey’s arm and drew her forward. “You remember Jared, right? And I think you’ve met Brent. And this is Andrew Ross.”

“Yes. Hi! Nice to see you again. Nice to meet you.” She greeted the other two guys, then introductions were made of the girls.

Army moved nearer to Marc. “I had to invite her,” he muttered in his ear. “She was sitting in the condo all alone.”

Marc rubbed his tongue over his top teeth to keep from smiling. She didn’t even have to do anything and her big brother was twisted around her little finger.

He watched as she greeted the other women with the same smile and pleasure she’d displayed for the guys.

“Love your suit,” she said to Sadie. “Is it Marc Jacobs?”

“Yeah, it is. Thanks.”

“Looks great on you.” Her approving nod gave her comment a sincere warmth and Sadie looked pleased.

“What would you like to drink?” Stoykers asked her. “I’m going to the bar.”

“I’ll go.” Andrew Ross, known as Rosser, shoved the goalie with a big shoulder.

“No, man, it’s okay, I got it.”

Rosser frowned. Army gave them both his raised-eyebrows look of displeasure.

“Oh.” Lovey studied the drinks on the table and pointed at Angel’s drink. “What’s that?”

“A pineapple margarita.”

“Oooh…is it good?”

“Fabulous.”

Lovey beamed. “Okay, I’ll have one of those.”

Stoykers disappeared into the crowd. With the owner of the restaurant at their table, they’d been getting great service. Lovey could wait a few minutes for a waitress to show up. Neither Stoykers nor Rosser had to rush off to get her a drink, for Chrissakes. They were practically brawling over who was going to look after her.

“Thanks for calling.” Lovey poked Army’s shoulder. “It’s so nice to meet more of your friends.” And her smile radiated at everyone around the table.

Marc nearly choked on his beer. Since this was the first time they’d ever laid eyes on these women, they could hardly call them friends. But whatever.

From two tables away, he watched her start a conversation with Sadie and Jenna, smilingly accept her drink from Brent when he returned, then laugh at something he said. Stoykers stood beside her stool rather than return to his own, joining in the chat with the other women.

“Is your name actually Lovey?” Sadie asked. “Or is that short for something?”

Lovey grimaced. “It’s short for Lovina. Apparently it was my Grandma Heywood’s name. I hated being called Lovey as a kid—you can imagine the grief I got. But Lovina’s not much better.”

“It’s sweet,” Jenna said.

“Thank you.”

“Uh…Marc?”

Marc blinked and turned to Angel. “Yeah?”

She tipped her head to one side. “I just asked when your next home game is.”

“Oh. Uh…tomorrow night.”

“Oh wow. I’d love to go.”

His gaze was drawn back to Lovey as she laughed, flipping her hair back and smiling at Brent, then picking up her drink to take a sip. She leaned closer to Sadie and said something in her ear, which made the other woman smile. You’d think they’d been best friends for years.

What was it about her?

“Marc?”

Once more he looked at Angel. She gave him a crooked smile. “You want to move down there?” She jerked her head toward Lovey.

“Uh…no. Sorry.” He shook his head. Damn, he was being rude. “Gotta hit the men’s room. Be right back.”

He slid off his stool and made his way through a door and down a short hall to the men’s room. Shit. He could not be lusting after Army’s little sister. That was all kinds of wrong. All kinds of trouble. He needed to get his shit together and ignore her. Especially since they were sharing an apartment for the next…who the hell knew how long.

When he returned to the table he discovered everyone was looking at menus, preparing to order food. This was good. He was starving. He didn’t even need to look at the menu to know what he wanted—call him predictable, but he ordered the same burger—the Chicago Cowboy with spicy barbecue sauce, bacon, sautéed onions, and cheddar cheese—every time he ate there. Rupper kept nagging him to try something different, but he knew what he liked.

His eyes were drawn back to Lovey again, as she kept asking Rupper questions about the menu. “So what kinds of cheeses are on the Cheese-lovers’ burger?” She flashed him a dimpled smile. “I’m a knowledgeable cheese girl.”

“Jack, cheddar, and Swiss.”

She pursed her lips, eyes moving over the menu. “I don’t know…”

“Do you like things spicy?” Rupper asked her.

Her lips twitched up. “I do like things spicy.”

Flirt.

Rupper laughed. “Good to know. How about spicy food?”

She grinned. “Yeah, that too.”

“Then I suggest the Cajun burger.”

“Okay.” She slapped her menu shut. “Done.”

Several baskets appeared on the table, compliments of Rupper—sweet potato fries, fries tossed with truffle oil and sea salt, onion rings, and deep-fried vegetables. Everyone helped themselves as they placed their orders.

Marc was trying to ignore Lovey, he really was, but the next time he glanced her way, she was looking at him. Like, really looking at him. And she didn’t let her gaze bounce away, like sometimes happens when you get caught staring at someone. She smiled in a way that squeezed up her eyes and shot heat straight to his gut, then lifted her drink to him in a little toast.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. She was just so damn appealing.

Apparently Angel had given up on him and had shifted in her chair to talk more to Stoykers and Jenna. On his other side, Army chatted with Rupper. Marc glanced at Lovey again. She was watching him again, smiling. Then she slid off her stool, picked up her second pineapple margarita, and moved toward him.

Fuck. Nowhere to run.

Why did he want to run? Jesus. She was Duncan’s sister. Sacrament, he could at least be nice to her. She seemed nice. Maybe a little flaky. Flighty. Absolutely not the kind of woman he was usually interested in. He almost rolled his eyes at the thought. Marissa had been way different…a mature, stable woman who took her banking career seriously, carefully planned each move, knew what she wanted and how she was going to get there.

But then again, she’d ditched him because he wasn’t romantic enough. It still boggled his mind that she’d wanted romance. Apparently he was supposed to send her roses and take her on a horse-drawn fucking carriage ride downtown. She was so smart and mature and career-oriented, he’d had no clue she wanted sappy shit like that.

Lovey slipped in between him and Angel. Angel glanced at Lovey, lifted her eyebrows, then turned back to Brent.

“Hey,” Lovey said, leaning on the table. “You look left out.”

Great. He repressed a grimace. Nice to appear pathetic. “Nah,” he said. “Having fun?”

“Yes!” She leaned closer and he caught a whiff of her scent…for some reason, she smelled like cupcakes. Delicious. “This is a great restaurant. Army brought me here last time I visited him in Chicago.”

“That when you met Jared?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, smiling. “And Brent. And a couple of other guys…but not you.” Her forehead creased. “Maybe you were busy.”

“When was that?”

“Ummm…I came for a weekend last spring. First round of the playoffs.”

“Yeah. Well, I don’t go out a lot during the playoffs.”