Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“It’s a good one,” he agrees as he leans into me, his lips moving against my temple, and I almost think he’s singing along.
“Do you dance?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Not even a beat later, he says, “But I would if you wanted to.”
I side-eye him, grinning widely. “Will you dance with me, Husband?”
“I would love nothing more.” He leans in, and against my lips, he adds, “My wife.”
My heart pounds in my chest as he leads me out onto the floor, where some couples are already dancing, and I hate the space between us. I hold his shoulders as he holds my hips, and I can’t help but laugh. “We look very middle school right now.”
He snorts. “We do, so let me change that.” He pulls me flush against him and wraps his arms around my middle, trapping mine between us. He rests his forehead against mine, and I grin up at him. We sway to the music, and it thrills me to know he is singing. It’s not loud enough for anyone else to make out, but I can hear it, and his smooth voice turns me to putty. As he holds me close, he kisses my temple and whispers, “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Always.”
I feel him still, but I refuse to feel guilty about that. I asked him to try, and I have no intention of not trying myself.
“I have a feeling you mean that.”
I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “I mean everything I say.”
“I know,” he says softly. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
I give him a small smile. “Wanna know one of mine? About you?”
He grins, those damn dimples making my belly flip-flop. “Tell me.”
“Your dimples. They literally make my day brighter.”
Coleson’s smile widens, and the dimples deepen. “No one has ever said that to me.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Probably because I only ever really smile for you.”
My heart skips a beat, and I tilt in to kiss him to show him how much that means to me. As he presses his lips to mine, I run my tongue along the seam, and he opens for me with no hesitation. Our tongues play slowly, neither of us wanting to draw too much attention to ourselves, but I don’t really care who sees. Or where we are. I want everyone to know that this man is mine.
And that I will do whatever it takes to keep him showing off those dimples for the rest of our lives.
CHAPTER 35
Coleson
While the warm weather of California is a nice change from the winter blast back in Tennessee, the temp in an ice rink is the same all over. Even with the chill, I am sweating balls as I haul ass up the ice with the puck, ignoring the roar of the home team’s crowd. They are loud here in Cali, and I love it. Even if they’re screaming at me to get hit rather than to score. Since I’m wanting the latter, I dig in, putting on the gas to get around a defenseman before sending the puck to Evangelina. He cradles it with his stick, carrying it over the line as I head toward the goal. I don’t know where Andrews is, but I have started playing as if he doesn’t exist. As far as I’m concerned, it’s only Evangelina and me on the ice, and it’s been working well for me.
I stand my ground, fighting the defenseman who is trying to move me out of his goalie’s way, and watch as my teammates pass the puck, looking for an opening. We’re down by two, but I’m not worried. The third period is when we shine. I don’t know why that is, but until the second period, it’s like we have forgotten that we wear skates to play on ice and don’t know a stick from a puck. It’s a pain in the ass coming back, but hey, we’ve done it the last couple weeks, and it’s becoming the norm for us.
Evangelina sends the puck to the blue line before Sellner, one of our defensemen, moves it back and forth on his stick. His eyes do the same while he tries to find a way to get the puck to the back of the net. He moves in, and when one of the other team’s players comes for him, Sellner sends the puck across the ice to his linemate Winters. I dig my shoulder into my guy, with my stick more to the ice in case they pass it to me for me to redirect to Andrews or Evangelina. Sellner calls out something, but I miss it until Winters sends the puck to him, and he shoots it hard toward us. I try to get out of the way, but it hits me in the side. Before I can even register the pain that is burning up my ribs, I slam the puck toward the net. To my delight, even though it’s a sloppy shot, it goes over the goalie’s left knee pad.