Page 52 of Tempting the King

I lost the farmhouse in Metamora and figured it just wasn’t the right time, but it’s funny how the world works.

Somehow the universe gave me this, and this is so much better.

“It needs work,” King says, his voice thoughtful. “But you want to see inside?”

He dangles the keys in front of my face, and I grab them, grinning, stomping my feet like an excited toddler. “I want to see it all.”

CHAPTER 17

Emee

Yesterday the farmhouse.

Today, my first hockey game. VIP no less.

Life is so strange. I have a new appreciation for this sport.

I’ve been in the VIP booth since before the game started, and when I watched King glide out on the ice, raising his stick in the air pointing towards me?

Everyone an the crowd turned to look up. They even put my face on the Jumbotron screen and the whole thing felt surreal.

I felt like a celebrity or a queen.

As well, that whole warm-up routine he did? Down on the ice, knees wide, stretching?

Oooooh, holler. And this time, I am not, not talking about the dating app.

The past couple days have been a whirlwind of highs, with no lows.

First, taking me to River Valley Farm and understanding my dreams were on the cusp of coming true? I’ve been walking on clouds and I never want to come back to earth.

The inside of the farmhouse smelled musty, which is to be expected since King’s left it empty all these years, but it was solid and it had everything.

There were a lot of reminders of his parents: family photographs, his mom’s wardrobe filled with clothes, his dad’s boots by the back door. I felt it was a bit of an unhealed wound for King. But I’ll help him. Together, we’ll make it into our home, and we’ll never forget them.

Like he says about me, I want him to tell me everything about him, and his parents. Memories. Good and bad. I want it all with this crazy man that has oiled up the stiffest parts of me and made me realize a little chaos can be good for the soul.

I can’t wait to tell our children all about the house and the memories their wild father had there.

God, I can’t believe I’m thinking about children.

I watch a boy of maybe ten or eleven, jostling against other people in his rush to get to a seat down below, his parents falling behind as he races ahead, and I smile. That could be us one day.

Tomorrow, I’ll take clients at the hotel again. King has ordered a security guard and is having a temporary system set up in the suite. It’s so overboard but in a secret way, I love his crazy protective, alpha side.

No one’s ever put me first like he does and I’m not mad.

Besides a couple of massive guys hanging around outside the door of the VIP suite, I’m alone. King warned me that might happen, but it might fill up later depending on what players gave out passes. But right now it’s just me and I get to watch my man lead his team into the playoffs.

I don’t know much about hockey, but I can tell King is playing well by the way the crowd is screaming his name and cheering.

I do know what shooting a goal means, and when he does the stadium literally vibrates under my feet with the screams and chanting and foot stomping.

All in his name.

King. My King.

As the game plays on, it’s clear, this man is an absolute phenomenon. That whole thing about sex being a bad luck for him can kiss my ass. He plays so well, I’m not even sure he needs the rest of his team around him.

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