Off Sides (Off 1)

Danny takes off her apron and throws it under the counter. Picking up her purse, she heads over toward me and I can feel my heart start beating faster. How in the world can someone that just finished working in a greasy diner look so damn good?

"Hey," she says. "Sorry but I ended up having to work later than I thought. I haven't had time to get showered or changed."

"Not a problem. Do you want to go back to your place so you can do that?"

She shakes her head. "We're not going anywhere fancy. Casual is better. Although, I probably smell like greasy french fries right now."

I don't know what possesses me but step closer to her and lean my head down so my nose is right behind her ear. I take a deep breath, dramatically inhaling so she can hear me. Then I whisper in her ear, "You smell delicious to me." And she does. Her shampoo smells like eucalyptus and orange blossoms. I actually watch as she shivers over my words and I feel like fucking Tarzan right now.

Stepping back, I turn to open the door and let her walk out ahead of me. I pull my keys out and start toward the passenger door of my black Range Rover. Glancing over my shoulder I see she's walking in the opposite direction. I put my keys back in my pocket and jog to catch up to her.

"Nice night for a walk," I remark.

She laughs and the sound warms my blood. It's rich and husky, and oh, so damn sexy.

"We're just walking to the bus stop. Tonight you'll see Boston 'Danny Style'. Although you are a little over-dressed to be riding the MBTA."

I give her a nonchalant smile. "No worries. I'm game."

She smiles back. "Good. I'd be disappointed if you weren't." Her words sound like a challenge and she has no idea how competitive I can be.

Oh, Danny, Danny. I know what you're trying to do and you should work a little harder to be less transparent. There is no doubt in my mind that Danny is trying to scare me off. If she thinks riding the transit bus is scary, she's clearly never had to dodge two-hundred pound defensemen to keep them from slamming you into the boards.

"So, where are we going? You said I'm over-dressed but you have to give me a better clue than that."

She just gives me an evasive smile and says, "You'll see."

I have to admit I'm now even more curious about her than before. I really kind of expected her to want me to take her to an expensive restaurant. I mean, that's usually what girls want. And the fact that she is taking us by public transit rather than using my insanely nice and ridiculously expensive car has me almost on pins and needles as to what to expect.

We don't get to talk much on the bus ride as it's packed with evening commuters. My first ride on the bus is not unpleasant though. The lack of seats means we have to stand up, and in close confines, Danny is pressed up against my side. She's holding on to a metal pole in front of her and I'm tall enough to hang onto an overhead strap with still enough bend in my arm. When the bus lurches or jostles, Danny's soft curves sway into me. A few times I place my hand on her back to help steady her and she shoots me a smirk which I return.

Finally, Danny indicates we've reached our destination and we step off with a few other travelers. It's starting to get dark and I'm a bit dismayed that we are in a fairly seedy looking area of town. The streets are lined with rubbish and I see more than one broken window on some of the buildings. I start to question Danny but she takes off across the street and I follow. We walk down the block and turn a corner, and run right into a line of people stretching out from a doorway. There has to be maybe twenty or so people in line and I'm confused. Were we at a nightclub?

Danny notices the look on my face and grabs my hand. She leads me past the line up to the front door, saying hello to a few people. And then I see a sign over the door..."Helping Hands Ministry". I glance back at the people standing in line and now I can plainly see what they are...homeless.

They range in diversity...black, white, yellow, young, old, men and women. The only common denominator they have is that they are all poor...very, very poor apparently. Some are dressed in rags while others have dirt covering them from head to toe. I know I'm gaping at these down trodden people but I can't help myself. I finally turn my head slowly to Danny and she's looking at me like she expects me to bolt.

"I volunteer a few times a week here. It's my night tonight and I thought you could help."

My brow furrows. "And this is where you want me to take you for dinner? Not very romantic."

She doesn't say anything but just watches me carefully.

I sigh and take her hand, heading toward the door. "Well, let's get busy then."

I'm pleased when Danny rewards me with a blinding, dimpled smile as I lead her through the front door.

She takes me through a lobby area and down a flight of stairs to the basement. She points off to a door that heads into a wing of the building that she tells me houses full time residents. When I ask about the people standing outside, she tells me they are just here to eat but they live out on the streets.

Danny opens up a set of double doors and we are in a large dining hall. There are folding tables that seat eight with metal chairs around each table. I find it odd that each table has a small vase on it with a little bunch of plastic flowers in each one. Most of the seats are taken and I can see that as people finish their meal and leave, volunteers are letting more people in.

I follow Danny around the perimeter of the room to the back where there is a service counter which reveals a large kitchen behind it. A swinging door to the side allows people to go in and out between the kitchen and dining area.

"It's about damn time you got here, Danny. I'm up over my ass in trying to get the food prepared for tomorrow."

"Chill out, Maverick. I'm here now and I brought help. But we both expect a good meal after we're done."

Danny looks at me and I mouth the word, Maverick?

She leans in and whispers, "Top Gun is his favorite movie."

I look over at Maverick. He's Asian and extremely short. He's wearing an apron over his clothes that's spattered with food and he's stirring a large pot on the stove. The hat on his head says, "Honey Badger Don't Care".

Danny opens a drawer and pulls out two aprons, throwing one at me. "Mav, this is Ryan. He's my wingman tonight."

I hate to admit, I don't appreciate the Top Gun reference. The wingman is supposed to help the other person get laid and I'll be damned if I'm going to help Danny do that.

Maverick looks at me, taking in my clothes. "He's dressed kind of fancy. Are you sure he can get his hands dirty."

Before Danny can answer, I say, "I'm sure I can get my hands dirty. Tell me what to do."

Mav just grunts at me but points to a pile of potatoes on the counter. I take my coat off and hang it over a chair, rolling my shirt sleeves up. After placing the apron on, I pick up a potato and start peeling. Danny comes up to stand beside me and starts helping. We work in companionable silence, mainly because Maverick is standing there and I'm thinking he might fillet me if we are not diligent in our duties.

When he leaves the kitchen, carrying the large pot that was on the stove with him, Danny leans her body toward me and gives me a nudge with her shoulder. "So, how are you doing?"

"Awesome. I love peeling potatoes. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do."

"First time, huh?"

I laugh. "Yup. But I always like to try new things so I can mark this off my bucket list."

We're both quiet for a minute, and then I say, "You know, Danny...bringing me here won't prove anything."

She looks at me and I can see shock on her face that I figured out her motive. She starts stammering about not trying to prove anything, but I wipe my hand off on a towel and place my finger over her lips. I lean in a little and murmur softly to her, "Don't deny it. It doesn't become you."

Her eyes are wide and confused, all for about three seconds then she bursts out laughing. "I guess I'm not going to be able to pull any fast ones on you."

"I got your number," I reassure her.

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We talk about mundane things while we work as there is just no opportunity for deeper conversation. I do find out that Danny has been volunteering here a few times a week since she was sixteen, which also leads her to confirm that she's a Boston native like me. Maverick bustles back and forth between the kitchen and dining area, bringing in dirty pots and serving pans. While the residents and street guests actually clean their own dishes and utensils at a washing station in the dining hall, the lovely duty of scrubbing the cookware falls to me and Danny.

After two hours of peeling potatoes, scrubbing pots and hauling garbage, I realize my back is actually a little sore. That surprises me because I'm a pretty fit guy. You can't play NCAA hockey and not be in top shape. I don't know how Danny does this twice a week and I'm finding myself respecting a girl for something I've never really experienced before in the opposite sex.

Dedication.

This is a crappy job and she actually volunteers to do it. It kind of humbles me.

I'm wiping down the last counter top and I look over at Danny. She's holding my sports jacket out to me. "You did great tonight. How about letting me buy you a beer?"

I put the cloth in the sink and take my apron off. Taking my coat from her, I drape it over my arm. I hold the other one out to her and she hooks her arm through it.

I smile down at her as she looks so freakin' adorable right now, her arm linked with mine. "I asked you out so the beer is on me."

CHAPTER 4

Danny