Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“C’mon,” Stefan says, trying again. “You know the candidates before anyone else. It’s only fair to give us a hint.”
Hayes gives it his best shot. “We won’t say a word beyond this table.” He draws an air circle around the three of us as stars wink in the San Francisco sky.
I have a little fun with them. “Why do you even want to know? It’s not like you have to wear new uniforms yet. As the mascot, I’m just testing the potential name.”
Stefan sets down his wineglass amidst the remains of the dinner we just finished. “I bet we could get it out of you. Later. In bed.”
I like the sound of his seduction plans. “Is this another dare?”
“Smells like a dare to me,” Hayes says, accompanied by forks clattering and glasses clinking.
We’re far away from other diners, but I’m not worried about how this looks. We’re just three people having dinner. But this is what I wanted—a night with both of them. My family knows the truth, and that was important to me. I didn’t want to fool them, so over breakfast this morning I told my grandma and my mom about the marriage arrangement so they wouldn’t worry if they heard anything on social. I texted with Katie too.
“Is this a new dating trend I need to know about?” my mom had asked when I’d told her.
“Because if it is, I’m out,” my grandma had seconded. “It took me long enough to learn to like avocado toast.”
“Fake marriage is not the new avocado toast,” I’d reassured her. I’m lucky they’re so supportive and didn’t give me a hard time at all. But I left telling Ryker to Trina, since she knows how to handle him.
Now I’m just enjoying my evening with these two guys as they play the new-team-name-guessing game.
“I bet it’s an otter,” Stefan muses.
“It’s not an otter,” I say.
“What about a mustang? That’d be cool,” Hayes says.
Stefan arches a brow at Hayes. “Does that even make sense? Then we’d be, what, horses on skates?”
“That’s your issue? The realism of mascots? The other team in this city is called the Sea Dogs and you’re pointing out that horses don’t wear skates?”
“What even is a Sea Dog?” Stefan’s brow knits as he turns philosophical.
“A seal,” I answer confidently.
Hayes’s irises twinkle with victory. “So that’s what you’ll wear? A seal costume?” He says it like he’s cracked the code.
When he so didn’t. “I took a mascot oath. I will not reveal the mascots we’re testing.” But the whole city will know at the next home game when I zip up the costume.
“We’ll get it out of you later,” Hayes says, all bravado once more.
“Speaking of later.” I sit up straighter. We’ve been having such a good time at dinner that we haven’t even had the talk yet. But we can’t put it off any longer. It’s important. “We should talk.”
Hayes glances around the eatery, full of diners but none close enough to eavesdrop, making sure the place is private. “Yeah, we should.”
“Seeing as I’m Mrs. Hockey for a couple months, we should establish the ground rules. Any situationship needs them,” I say, sketching air quotes.
“Situationship,” Stefan says, clearly amused.
“Well, it seems apropos.”
“If anything is a situationship, it’s this. And rules are good,” Hayes seconds.
Stefan gestures regally, bestowing the floor on me. “Have at it. I feel like whatever rules you establish, I come out ahead.”
Such a cocky fucker. “How do you figure?”
The Danish man waves a hand at Hayes then me. “You two have to go to these events. Charity luncheon, wedding, whatnot. I basically get the fun end of things. Correct?”
Hayes rolls his eyes. “Yes, you do. What a shock.”
With a casual shrug, Stefan turns to me, those ice-blue eyes sparkling. “I’ve got a packed schedule with the upcoming Sportsman of the Year award anyway. Meetings with sponsors and The Sports Network. I don’t need more public events.”
“Humble brag,” Hayes says, coughing under his breath.
Stefan turns to me. “Besides, being your secret boyfriend seems a lot more fun than being the public husband.”
I blanch at that term. Secret boyfriend? I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend at all, let alone a clandestine one. But I wasn’t seeking a husband either.
Maybe I didn’t hear him right. “Secret boyfriend?”
“Sweetheart.” Stefan gives me the look. The confident one that says don’t argue. “I’m your secret boyfriend and you know it.”
Well then.
Arousal shimmies through me at his declaration and the certainty of it. Secret boyfriend seems reasonable.
“Fair enough,” I say, hiding a grin. I like his possession. I didn’t see it coming, but it’s impossible to deny.
“As the captain, I’ve got enough on my plate with promos and whatnot,” Stefan adds. “Seems I get to have my cake and eat it too—at night.”
“Am I cake?” I ask.
His eyes pin mine. “Yes, Ivy. You’re the cake.”