Page 2 of Owning Eva

Or so I think.

Then she walks in.

I freeze.

My girl’s wrapped up against the cold in a coat that hugs her curves just enough to make my balls tighten, a scarf wrapped around her neck. Dark curls dusted with snowflakes perfectly frame her gorgeous face. Her pink lips are full, and her dark, wide eyes sweep over the lodge like she’s not exactly sure why she’s here. Her light brown skin is a bit flushed from the cold and it only makes her look more beautiful.

And her body?

Fucking perfect.

Curves in all the right places that make my palms itch. Wide hips that sway just enough to pull every ounce of my attention. Long legs in in tight leggings that make me want to drag my eyes up. The way she moves—unaware of how every step pulls the air from the room—hits me square in the gut.

Who the fuck is she?

Three

Eva

The cold bites at my cheeks the second I step out of the car. Emily wasn’t lying about Lake Tahoe in December—it’s breathtaking. The kind of place that looks like it was plucked straight out of a Christmas card. Snow blankets everything: the tall evergreens, the luxury cabins, and the winding pathways lit with soft golden lights. It’s magical.

And intimidating as hell.

I adjust my scarf and try to keep my nerves in check as I follow Emily through the entrance of the lodge. She’s already chatting with the staff, looking completely at ease in her form-fitting coat and designer boots. And I’m just trying not to trip over the plush rug.

“Stop looking like you’re about to get kicked out of VIP,” Emily says over her shoulder, handing me my room key.

I shove the key into my pocket and mutter, “feels like it.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Girl, please.”

Before I can argue, the door to the lodge swings open, and a gust of cold air sweeps in, along with deep, rumbling laughter.

“Liam!” Emily’s whole face lights up as she rushes toward her husband, who’s just walked in with a group of guys. And by the look of it, these are not just any guys. Big, broad-shouldered, impossibly good-looking men who radiate confidence and testosterone. Yep, they’re hockey players.

I freeze in place, clutching my bag like a shield.

Emily turns back, practically glowing. “Eva, you remember Liam, right?”

“Of course,” I say, offering a smile.

Liam grins, his easy charm making me instantly more comfortable. “Eva, it’s great to see you again. Emily’s been excited you were joining us.”

“I bet,” I say with a teasing look to my girl.

Then it happens.

My eyes shift, and lock on him.

He’s standing a little behind Liam, silent and watching, his towering frame impossible to miss. Dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the whole lodge disappears.

I know who he is. Everyone knows who Eli Jackson is. The Portland Blades’ star defenseman. The Blizzard. The guy whocould body-check an entire football team without breaking a sweat.

And he’s looking at me like… like I’m a mug of hot cocoa after a long day walking in the snow.

I blink, breaking the connection. My cheeks heat, and I turn back to Emily, who’s too busy kissing her husband to notice the silent standoff happening a few feet away.

When their mouths finally disconnect, Liam clears his throat. “Eli, come say hi.”

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