Fake Dating the Defenseman Next Door (Soltero Beach Scorpions Hockey #1)

6. Diego

six

Diego

S he looks like she’s going to bolt any second. I can’t let that happen.

Not just because I need her to help me out with my game day rituals, but because there’s just something about her I find so fucking endearing.

She’s utterly arresting. Her every curve is deliciously outlined by the tight wetsuit she’s wearing. It’s damn hard to keep my cock from reacting to her, but I get the feeling that she’s pretty clueless about the effect she’s having on me.

And fuck. That makes me want her even more.

I’m so used to women throwing themselves at me, using every asset they’re all too aware they’re blessed with to get attention. So it’s nice to come up against someone who doesn’t seem to bother with heavy-duty make-up, hours of salon-level hair styling, or coy, clever turns of phrase designed to flatter me.

Angie’s a breath of fresh air and I’m feeling a new kind of obsession forming. I just want to be close to her. Learn everything I can about her. Figure out what makes her tick, what makes her smile, what else makes her moan like she did when she popped that cake into her mouth.

Hell, since she’s what stands between me and my game day donuts, I can legitimately say I need this woman.

She chews on her bottom lip, considering me for a second. I think I might’ve won her over when she cups my hand with hers and leans down.

Her eyes connect with mine. Her pretty unpainted mouth opens.

Then she says, “No.”

I’m so stunned, I let go of her hand and she scoots around me. Sashaying her hips as she walks, she throws open the door and holds it open with her leg.

“Look, I’d like to help you—”

“—So help me,” I say, standing and dusting off my jeans.

But she gives me a tight-lipped smile as she shakes her head. “As you can see, I’ve got my hands pretty full here. I’ve got a grand re-opening to plan and about a thousand and one things on my to-do list. You can stop by at the re-opening and I’ll happily set aside a box or two for you. I’ll even throw in extra like I used to.”

I stride over to her and cross my arms over my chest. This is not how this was meant to go. With narrowed eyes, I decide to change tack.

“There must be something you want.”

“Yes.”

I wait for her to elaborate. When she doesn’t, I go for the big guns.

“What about some hockey tickets? I can get you two tickets in the lower bowl. By the glass, behind the bench, center ice. What do you need? Name it, I’ll make it happen.”

“What am I going to do with hockey tickets?” She tilts her head to one side and blinks at me, unimpressed. “All I want is to re-open this space and get out of this snobby town, just as soon as my grandma’s happy to take the reins again and I can convince her to hire on some help. She can’t keep running this place on her own.”

Angela mirrors my posture, crossing her arms under her breasts. Which only makes me think of having walked in on her changing, and how she’d held that skimpy strip of fabric over herself.

Grinding my teeth to keep my dick in check, I try again.

“I will help you. You can put me to work, boss me around, whatever you need. I’ll even get the whole damn team to help you get this place ready and rearing to go by the end of the week if you’ll just agree to supply me with game day donuts while you’re here.”

I can practically see the wheels in her head turn as her mouth quirks up. Hope blossoms in my chest.

“Well, I like the sound of that. Cheap labor and bossing big, beefy hockey players around might just be my new kink.”

A blush springs into her cheeks and she clears her throat like she hadn’t meant to say that.

But I laugh and she visibly relaxes, a small, shy smile playing on her lips.

“Think my sisters are into that, too.” I wrinkle my nose, still uncomfortable with the idea of my sisters and any kind of kink. There are just some things a brother does not need to know. “So… we have a deal?”

“Not quite.”

I reach up and rub my neck. Sweeten the pot. “What else you want?”

“There is one teeny tiny thing I need.” Her big, round eyes dart around the room, avoiding looking my way as she twists her fingers together in a nervous tick.

An autograph? A selfie? A payout?

I cross my arms and wait. “Anything.”

“A boyfriend.”

I blink at her stupidly.

“Come again?”

“I need a boyfriend,” she says again, releasing the door and letting it slam shut. “Just for one night. You’ll do.”

I nearly choke. I’ll do , like I just barely pass whatever test she’s just administered.

“Angie, darling, are you propositioning me?”

Her face flames.

“No. I need a fake boyfriend to stand by me for my high school reunion.” Angela looks me over, tapping one finger over her lips thoughtfully. “Yes, I think you’ll do just fine.”

My eyes narrow and suspicion looms large.

“Why? You got some old boyfriend you want to make jealous or something?”

“No, I had bullies who got off on making me feel like I didn’t belong and wasn’t going to amount to anything in life.”

The smile on my face disappears. I don’t like bullies. Never have. Not on or off the ice.

“They made my high school years hard,” she admits, staring down at the dusty new herringbone flooring. “But they were wrong about me and I want to prove it. They said I’d never leave this town, never make something of myself, always be a bit of a loner and—some other stuff that really hurt.”

She smooths her hair back toward her ponytail, seemingly reluctant to get into the finer details.

“Some people are mean and stupid and not worth your time.”

Her eyes flash and she straightens her stance, fingers curling into a fist at her side. The look of steely determination in her eyes has pride welling up in me.

There she is, that’s my girl.

“Despite them, I got out of town, built a name and a career for myself. I made the 30 Under 30 list and was on the fast track to partner at my consultancy firm, but my plans have changed. Will you help?”

The words ‘my girl’ are still echoing in my head when she tips her head back to look at me, and her ponytail swishes behind her. My heart pounds and a tightness settles in the center of my chest.

I’ve never thought of any woman as mine, but now that the words lodged in my head, they burrow deep.

They feel right.

“When?” I ask, voice tight and heart aching as I think about how much she’s changed since I’d seen her last. She’d been a shy, withdrawn teen. Pretty, but avoidant and I hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable with my jokes. If I’d looked closer, maybe I would’ve picked up on the fact that she’d been facing bullies at school. Maybe I could’ve made a difference or helped her feel like she had someone in her corner.

We all deserved that, didn’t we?

“Two weeks’ time on Saturday night.” Then she frowns and looks askance. “Though now I realize I don’t even know if you’ve got a girlfriend or a game to play, so maybe you can’t. If it’s too much to ask—”

“No girlfriend, no game.” I reach out and grab her chin, nudging it up so our eyes meet. “You want a fake date for fresh donuts, then it’s a done deal. I meant what I said. I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want.”

“You’re doing all this just for the donuts?” Her voice is breathless and her eyes search mine even as my dick stiffens in my pants.

My gaze drops to her mouth and I fixate on the way her perfect white teeth sink into her full bottom lip.

“No, Angie, darling. I just have a need for things that are sticky sweet. And a sneaking suspicion that you may be able to fulfill every single one of them.”

Her pink tongue darts out, wetting her lip and the tension between us grows. I must be crazed, or possessed, or drinking the same water as Dom and Elias because all I can think is that I need to make this woman mine.

“So, tell me, girlfriend. How long have we been together?” I ask, voice husky and laced with desire I can’t quite mask.

“Six weeks.”

“Three months,” I counter, stroking her cheek. “We made things official right after the Scorpions season ended and I could focus on life outside the rink.”

Her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her face to my touch. “How did we meet?”

“Through donuts. Anyone who knows me will buy that.”

“They should, since it’s the truth.” She smiles and cracks open her eyes to stare at my mouth. “What did we do for our first date?”

“We’ll recreate it tomorrow in celebration of our three month anniversary.” I reach up with my free hand and twirl the edge of her ponytail. It’s the color of midnight waters and the strands thread silkily through my fingers. It’s far too easy to imagine wrapping my hand up in it, giving it tug, and lowering my mouth to her exposed neck for a greedy taste of her skin. “Dinner and a marathon rewatch of our favorite K-drama.”

“Which one is that?”

“Goblin, of course.” I grin at her and lower my voice to confess something I’d never in a million years tell any of the guys on the team. “I’ll even bring over my own Mr. Buckwheat plush to cuddle up with.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “You do not have one.”

“I do. And it’s bigger than yours.” I stifle a laugh when she swats at my arm. Her hand lingers, fingertips sliding under the sleeve of my shirt and brushing over my bicep. Her touch sends delicious jolts of desire through me as I curl my fingers around the back of her neck.

“Size doesn’t matter.”

I cock my head to the side and grin. “Doesn’t it?”

She tries to hide her smile as her cheeks go pink. “Diego?”

“Hmm?”

“When are you going to kiss your new girlfriend?”

“Right the fuck now,” I murmur, bending my head to capture her mouth. The second our lips touch, every cell in my body lights up. My heart pounds as I crowd her against the wall and her fingers bite into my muscles as she clings to me.

I sweep my tongue inside her hot, hungry mouth. She tastes like chocolate and marshmallow, and I groan when she gives as good as she gets. Her hands slide up my chest to lock around my neck while I grab her hips and relish in the feel of her soft curves against my hard body.

When she moans against me, my dick strains against my jeans. It takes everything in me not to grind up on her the way I’d imagined doing a hundred times since I set eyes on her. Wild need gallops through me as I tear away from her mouth to coast along her cheek. Her soft hums and gasps fill my ears like music. And when she tilts her head to the side to give me access to her neck, I’m stupidly close to unzipping her wetsuit and peeling it off her right there in the front door of her shop.

Shit.

I tear myself away, breath ragged and chest heaving as I press my forehead to her shoulder. If I’m not careful, I might just lose myself in her entirely.

Because this? Whatever the fuck is sparking between us?

It’s heady and dangerous.

Addicting.

I knew the woman was trouble.

I even knew I liked trouble.

But I didn’t know I’d like her brand of trouble this much.