Sex, Lies, and Online Dating by Rachel Gibson Page B

even know him.
    It was possible he was a plumber trying to move on after the death of his wife, but it was just as possible that he was one of the seventy percent who were online just looking for quick sex.
    Lucy supposed the bigger question, and the one more difficult to answer was, why was she picking him apart only to make excuses to put him back together again? Why was she obsessing over a guy she didn’t know?

Chapter 6
    Getn2knowu: Seeks Honest Mate…
    “Get Ready for This” pounded the air inside the Bank of America Centre as the captains for the Idaho Steelheads and the San Diego Gulls faced off at center ice. The music stopped, the puck dropped, and the sound of hockey sticks hitting the ice filled the arena.
    Game on.
    Quinn looked across his shoulder at Lucy Rothschild, at her red-and-black Steelhead’s jersey and the big foam finger stuck on her hand. He’d never encountered anyone in his life who looked less like a serial killer.
    “That’s what I’m talking about!” she yelled as a Gull got knocked on his ass.
    Okay, so she was a little bloodthirsty, but for some strange reason, that didn’t shrivel his sac. Nor did the tape recorder jabbing the small of his back, reminding him that she just might be a psychopath who got off on watching men die.
    Quinn leaned back in his seat, and the small black recorder pressed into his spine. Kurt was across town on a date with brneyedgrl, while Anita sat in the van recording the other detective. Quinn was on his own tonight, but he wasn’t real worried, the most obvious reason being that it wasn’t likely Lucy would try and kill him in an arena filled with several thousand pumped-up hockey fans. But even if they’d been alone, getting hot and sweaty in his bed, he wasn’t all that convinced Lucy was a serial killer. He just didn’t feel it in his gut. No, when he looked at her, he felt something entirely different in that general area. But just because he didn’t feel she was a killer didn’t mean he was going to rule out the possibility either.
    “You suck!” a young guy a few rows up yelled as a Gull muscled the puck from a Steelhead.
    Quinn didn’t know much about hockey. He was more a football guy. He’d played the game from the age of ten to eighteen and knew the rules. As far as Quinn could see, hockey was chaos on ice. It looked like a bunch of guys chasing a puck and knocking the hell out of each other when the referees weren’t looking.
    “Ooow,” Quinn winced as two players collided like freight trains but managed to stay on their skates. Beside him, Lucy laughed, and her eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.
    “Lord, I love this game,” she said through a huge smile. “Especially in the play-offs when both teams are out to kill each other.”
    So maybe she was more than a little bloodthirsty, but she seemed to fit right in with the rest of the crowd.
    “Do you come to a lot of games?” he asked above the sound of sticks hitting the ice and the rise and fall of shouting from the crowd.
    “I try to see as many as possible. How about you?”
    “I’ve never been before tonight.”
    She turned her head, and her big blue eyes met his. She blinked as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she was seeing. Like maybe he was an alien. “Never? You’re kidding me?”
    “Nope. I’m a football guy.”
    “Football’s okay, I guess. But hockey is more fun to watch.”
    “It looks chaotic.”
    “It’s organized chaos.” She returned her attention to the ice but leaned her head close to him. “The players up front are the forwards and the center.” She removed her hand from the foam finger and pointed. She’d painted her fingernails red. “The guys that stay back are the defenders, and of course, the goalies.” She dropped her hand to her thigh. “There are a lot of rules in hockey, and I can’t keep all of them straight. And just when I think I’ve figured them all out, they change.”
    Quinn had always been a sucker for shiny