Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
She hums in appreciation as I take off my skates. She sits down beside me, and I take in how her tights are torn at her thigh. It may make me a Neanderthal, but I like that I did that to her. I like it more that she has a bright-red mark where my mouth was. I touch the spot tenderly, and she flashes me a beaming smile.
“You made your mark?”
I nod. “Just as you have.”
Her eyes flash with wonderment, and I have to pull my gaze away before I tell her how damn in love with her I am. She’s not ready. She just had a sexual awakening; I can’t throw love in the mix right now. I can wait, especially for her. When my gaze settles on my bag, I see my jersey hanging out, and I’m reminded that I wanted to give it to her. I reach for it and then place it in her lap.
She looks up at me, her brows pulled in. “What’s this?”
“My jersey. Wear it tomorrow.”
Her lips curve up in a wide grin as she licks her lips. “Hmm, won’t that tell everyone we’re together?”
“Yeah, it will,” I say, meeting her gaze.
“And that’s okay?”
“More than okay,” I say gruffly, overwhelmed by my feelings. Is this what she feels like all the time?
Fuck, it’s torture.
“Is that okay with you?”
She flashes me a small little grin. “More than okay,” she repeats, her eyes burning just for me. Her grin grows as she throws on the jersey, and I learn that my new favorite sight is her in my sweater that looks way too big but also perfect on her. Pride burns through me as she stands, turning so I can see my name and my number on her back. “How do I look?”
My heart is in my throat as I tear my gaze from my number to her precious moss-green eyes. Ones I’ve dreamed of for the last twenty years and now belong to me.
My voice is still gruff, full of emotion. “Like mine.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
The Belles
“Something is up.”
Hazel, Bea, and Maggie all look up from their stitching as Kitty lays hers down. She meets each of their gazes before sighing deeply. “I think the kids are hiding something from us.”
Maggie cocks a brow as Bea’s head tilts. It’s Hazel who says, “I think they’re shacking up. He’s smiling way too much not to be getting some.”
Bea cackles as Maggie winces. Kitty says, “No, I agree. I think they are, but it’s something else. I tried to come over earlier today, and Fable told me she was busy all day. So, I called Jett, and he told me the same thing. I am fine with them being together, but I’d like to hang out. I made this for her office.”
Kitty holds up a framed cross-stitch that reads: Home Is Where Those Fuckers Aren’t.
“I know she’d love it,” she says as the girls bark with laughter.
Bea nods. “That’s perfect.”
“She will,” Hazel gushes, and Maggie nods in agreement.
“I know. But I was told not to come by, and they did the same thing all week. They’re always ‘busy.’”
“It’s rather rude,” Bea says, shaking her head.
“They wouldn’t even be together if we hadn’t pushed them together,” Maggie complains, her brows tight, looking just like Jett used to before Fable got here.
Hazel mirrors her daughter’s face. “We raised them, and they blow us off?”
“For each other!” Kitty adds, and they all nod, their feathers ruffled.
There is a game going on, the Grizzly Goals, who have most of the park rangers on their team, and the Penalty Box Prophets battle it out for a chance in the finals. The Belles are playing the Thirsty Pine Frosted Mugs next. It’ll be a great game, and the Belles should pull it out with no issues, but it’ll get chippy. The rivalry between the two teams carries out into the community. Jasper Butler, the owner and captain of the Mugs, is a good man, but something about the ice brings out the nasty in him. He didn’t make it onto a college team, and he holds it against anyone who did. Especially Jett, when he didn’t go back after his injury.
When the rink doors open, all four women glance over to see their unloving family members, who are walking in together. Kitty doesn’t have to look hard to know that Fable isn’t wearing her grandfather’s jersey.
No, that girl has her man’s jersey on, and the proud look on her face fills Kitty with such excitement, her heart soars. Gone is all the women’s hostility, replaced by genuine happiness at the two coming toward them, hand in hand.
Jett looks down at Fable just as she glances up, and they share the purest of smiles. It takes Kitty’s breath away. “Oh, I remember when Phillip looked at me like that.”