Page 135 of Miami Ice

He dips his head and brushes a kiss against my lips. “I have no idea how that shot went in,” he murmurs against my mouth.

I smile, and I can feel his mouth curving up, too, and we both begin to laugh softly.

Beckham stands back upright, and I love the mischievous light in his eyes.

“Then why did you take it?” I ask, curious.

“Instinct. My gut said to take it. Kind of like it did when it told me to take my shot with you.”

Sa-woon.

“Well, your instincts were right on both shots you took,” I say playfully, putting my fingers on one of his buttons and toying with it.

One of his hands slides around to my back, and he begins to rub it affectionately. “I loved knowing you were here tonight,” he admits softly.

My heart swells a bit in my chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Up in those stands. Watching me. Cheering for me. Wearing the bracelet I made you and my name on your shirt. Speaking of that, I need to see your outfit better.” Beckham steps back from me, appraising my outfit.

“You know,” I say, feeling bold, “I’m not going to need this jacket once we’re outside. I might as well take it off now, don’t you think?”

I shimmy out of the black moto jacket and stand before him in the tube top, jeans, and my sexiest pair of heels. My long hair tumbles down my back, and I purposefully draw my lower lip between my teeth for just a second.

His gaze locks in on my lips the instant I do that trick, then his eyes slowly travel over me, heat flickering in them as he drinks me in. Beckham’s full lips part a bit, and I know he likes what he sees.

As do I.

Then he reaches for my left wrist, running his thumb over my bracelet. “I’m glad you liked my stab at creative arts.”

“It’s one of the best presents I’ve ever received.”

“I need to buy you more presents if that’s the case,” he jokes.

“No, I mean it. This gift has meaning to me. Your words, even you teasing about the Taylor Swift song. It’s perfect. And I love it. But when did you do this?”

“After practice. I swung by a craft store, and they were very excited to help me on my mission.”

Falling, falling, falling. I’m so falling in love with this man.

“Come on. We’re going back to my place,” he says assertively. “I need to be alone with you.”

Happy days indeed!

We walk through the cavernous arena, and I regret taking off my coat because it’s cold in here. But soon we are in the players’ parking area, and in minutes I’m sitting inside of Beckham’s SUV.

“Do we need to get Winston?” he asks as he turns on the engine. “I have practice tomorrow morning, but I can come home and walk him before I come to your show. Minnie has been around dogs, so they’d probably be fine together. Or we can keep them separate if you think that’s best.”

I’m touched by this. I love how he thinks of Winston and his needs.

“No, Ella and Jordan are keeping him tonight and tomorrow. I have promised not to come home in exchange for them dog-sitting.”

Beckham snorts. “What do you think Ella is covered in this time? Chocolate syrup?”

“GAH, Beckham! That’s my sister! I already can’t unsee what we saw the first time. I don’t need any more visuals in my head!”

Beckham eases his car out of the parking space. “Honey?”

“STOP.”

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