Page 92 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

CHAPTER 29

GABE

I pause at the bedroom door, two freshly brewed cups of coffee in my hands, one with a teaspoon of honey stirred into it, and take in the sight before me.

The cool morning light sneaking around the edges of the blinds lands on the top of Natalie’s head, making her hair look almost silver against my dark blue pillows.

My heart swells to see her lying there, fast asleep in my bed, curled up with one bare shoulder peeking out from under the covers.

After the mind-blowing episode on the rug, all I wanted to do was spoon her all night. So I persuaded her to text her aunt and say we’d come back here and I’d drunk too much for me to drive her home.

And I did spoon her all night. I’d lain there with her wrapped in my arms, holding her back against my chest and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. I woke up in the exact same position about twenty minutes ago.

That’s when the clenching in the pit of my stomach started.

That’s when the what-have-you-dones started.

That’s when I told myself I’m a total fucking fool.

Who do I think I am, imagining this is possible. I can’t have this.

Telling her all the things I told her last night, feeling the way I felt when we were lying on the rug, the way my chest feels now watching her sleep in my bed—none of that is okay.

All of this is dangerous.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my years on the ice, it’s keep your vulnerabilities hidden. Never show your weak spot. Because that’s when you get knocked down and stomped on.

And in the space of a week, this woman has become my weak spot.

I roll my left shoulder in sympathy with that thought, and it twinges. Something I did yesterday must have set it off—probably something on the floor in front of my fireplace.

If nothing else, wanting to bang Natalie into the middle of next week isn’t good for my shoulder. My shoulder is vital to my livelihood, and it needs to heal pretty damn quick. I can’t go hot-sexing it out of place.

But Natalie’s more than hot sex—according to these feelings in my chest and my stomach and the tips of my fingers and toes. And there is no time for any of those feelings.

I’ve seen it too often—a player loses his mind to love and either the love kills his game or the game kills the love.

Once I’ve retired in five or however many years, that’swhen I can have feelings for someone. Not now. The timing of this is all wrong.

Natalie sighs softly and rolls onto her back.

Fuck. All I want to do is rip my clothes off and climb back under the covers with her. But that’s exactly why I got dressed in the first place—to stop myself from doing exactly that.

I move toward the truest embodiment of a sleeping beauty I have ever seen and sit on the edge of the bed, gently, so as not to wake her with a start.

I put my coffee on the nightstand, then turn and brush my hand across her silky soft forehead, pushing back her hair.

She shifts slightly under my touch, her head rolling to face me, and the sexyhmmmshe makes gives me an instant semi.

Her eyelids open slowly, as if they weigh a thousand tons and she doesn’t have the strength to lift them.

“Hi,” she says in a low, cracked morning voice that is the greatest sound on earth—next to the sound of her coming—and it ratchets up my semi to a full hard-on.

Her blue eyes move up my body, starting at my knee that’s closest to her. And when they reach my face, they finally focus and her mouth curls up a little at both sides.

“I brought you this.” I offer the coffee to the picture of beauty pushing herself up to sitting.

She lifts the pillows behind her and pulls up the sheets, tucking them under her arms to cover her naked breasts.

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