Page 91 of Miami Ice

I can’t contain the smile that has spread across my face, knowing I’ve made him laugh like that. I made him want to come to Home Joy simply to spend time with me.

It’s not the life he had back in Denver. Not even close.

But my heart tells me this is where he’s supposed to be.

And that’s with me.

* * *

“Georgie, are you trying to run him off? You took him to Home Joy?” Ella says, staring at me incredulously from her seat on the sofa, where she’s eating a big bowl of salad for lunch. Ella lives close enough to the office that she can come home for lunch, and she takes advantage of it frequently. “Did he understand what that meant when he said yes?”

“Ella. What do you even mean by that?” I ask, giving her an evil eye.

She snorts. “You know exactly what I mean. You spend hours in that store. Examining things. Talking yourself out of things.Driving things around in your cart before making the decision if you want them or not. Was he prepared for all of that? That’s a lot to ask of a boyfriend, let alone your fake one.”

I grin. Ella has no idea of our change in status because our paths haven’t crossed since yesterday. She’s watching me put up my new purchases in the living room. Well, actually Beckham’s purchases, as he insisted on treating me and said whatever was in my cart was on him today. I refused a million times, we argued about it, and finally I gave up and accepted them as he wanted me to.

“Beckham not only handled it, but he let me wander for as long as I wanted,” I say, flopping down next to her.

“I was wrong about him,” Ella says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I thought he was merely a hockey player. But he’s a saint.”

“You’re wrong about one other thing,” I say.

She stares at me quizzically. “What?”

“He’s not my fake boyfriend.”

She screws up her nose. “What?”

“We’ve decided to date,” I say, pulling a sparkling silver cake stand out of a bag and setting it on the coffee table. “For real.”

“Wait, what?” she asks, parking her mixing bowl of salad next to my cake stand.

I begin unwrapping the cloche that goes with it. “I think this will look good with some small jars and LED candles on my display table. What do you think?”

“I don’t care about your cloche, and I think you better tell me everything right now!” Ella demands.

I put the glass cloche on the cake stand and flop down next to her. Winston jumps on the sofa and settles happily between us, so he can get double pets.

Winston has always been a smart dog.

“Beckham and I are dating for real,” I say excitedly. “Everything changed last night.”

“How could you not tell me?”

“You weren’t home!”

“You could have texted me!”

“I wanted to tell you in person!” I counter.

“Whatever. How did everything change so fast for you and Becks?”

I stroke Winston between the ears. “Beckham admitted he pretty much liked me from the first night we met,” I say, feeling my cheeks grow warm with happiness. “I could sense things changing on my end, and I thought they were on his, too. But I wasn’t sure, you know? Because we had this whole fake-dating arrangement, and I would find myself second-guessing everything until he told me how he felt last night.”

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