Page 47 of Hat Trick Holidate

chapter 18

EMMALINE

I wakeup from a deep sleep with a voice whispering over my skin, causing the flesh to pimple. “You’re so damn sexy.” I’m dreaming. Always dreaming of a man using those words to describe me. I smile as I remember that Bryce Wynward is with me—in my bed, trailing his fingers down my arm and over my hips.

Twisting my head back to look at him, those piercing blue eyes draw me in. He seems to mean what he’s saying. There are no falsehoods behind his eyes, only what he sees as the truth. Of course, I know I’m not sexy. Playful, yes. But this body isn’t sexy. It’s soft. My boobs are too big to be perky, which is why the push-up bra was invented. Right? My hips have some extra layers and are a little squishy, but they can be hidden by the pair of jeans. Last night, I was exposed, yet Bryce kept telling me how much my body turned him on.

On cue, Bryce says in a dry, raspy, wake-up voice, “Good morning, sexy.”

I close my eyes and take in his words. Maybe this is the day I believe he’s right.

“You made me feel sexy. Thank you.” I give him a gentle peck on the corner of his mouth before he pulls me tighter into his body.

“It’s the first time I’ve climaxed at the same time with a woman. That was an incredible feeling. Only you, Rusti. Only you.”

A rush of warmth spreads through me, fueling my heart and soul as his words sink in. Suddenly, everything feels like a dream, like I’m finally waking up next to the man I’ve been craving since that night, eight years ago. But it’s not a dream; it’s happening.

I’ve had sex a few times but never stayed overnight with a man. Each time was lackluster and never fulfilled me the way Bryce did. The way he does.

“I like it when you’re happy and not so grumpy,” I say as I roll to face him and stare at the beautiful specimen that for some unknown reason, wants me. Needs me. “I just mean, you have it all. You should be happy.”

He sighs. “It’s hard to be happy with my life when I know it was meant for someone else,” he says, staring right past me, looking at my ear—tucking my hair into place.

“So, you’re unhappy?” I ask.

“Not now. I’m fucking elated that I’m in your bed. That you let loose and trusted me with your body, again. I’m not sure if I can let you go now. Too many people have disappeared from my life, and I’m…” His eyes collide with mine momentarily. “It’s exhausting pretending, so one day, I decided to just stop acting like I’m happy. I love hockey and my teammates. I thought I loved Andrea in college, but I just wanted to be loved. Wanted to give it and receive it.”

He knows how to give love in the sexual sense, and I almost tell him, but his eyes look like he’s lost in the past. Not here with me.

“I’m sorry she chose someone else. Would it hurt less if she chose another guy over you instead of a girl?”

With a slight shake of his head, he comes back to me. “No. It shocked me. She knew what I had been through—not many people did—so I felt totally alone in life. I know now that I wasn’t in love, but it was one more person who disappeared.”

While I wait to see if he continues, I consider the words totally alone in life. What would that feel like? I’ve always had a tight-knit family unit to fall back on. My brother has always been my best friend. The person to have my back no matter what.

I slide one hand up to his face, my thumb stroking over his morning stubble. “Do you feel alone now?” I ask, and I’m not suggesting that we’re together, but he has a daughter who he seems to love.

Giving me a weak smile, he says, “Well, notrightnow.”

Sensing there’s more to his story, his background, I put on my therapy cap and ask, “Will you tell me what originally made you feel alone? Before Andrea?”

“I can’t do this right now. I need to go home and be on the team plane for the away game.” The sigh he exhales sounds like it’s coming from a place no one has been—deep.

I had forgotten about the away trip to Nashville. Bryce is flying Jolie and I out later.

“How much time do you need?What I like about working with children is they don’t filter anything. They just speak. ‘My daddy hit me.’ Or ‘My mommy never feeds me.’ Adults could learn a lot from kids. Just give me one sentence that sums it up.”

His blue eyes cloud, turning from bright to stormy. I’ve heard terrible things through my counseling work. Kids who have been burned with cigarette butts. Kids who have been beaten and abandoned, so nothing he can say will shock me.

“I killed my brother.”

For a fleeting moment, his admission shakes me to the core. It’s one thing I’ve never heard from a child. No way did this man end another person’s life—there has to be more to his story, and I plan on helping Bryce open up about it.

Quickly, I gather my thoughts as my hands slide up his oblique muscles, which are solid and unforgiving to my touch. Okay, I do get distracted and kiss him. The second my tongue slips between his lips, he groans.

Believe me, I know how this appears. He says he kills someone, and here I am kissing him. I always wondered why women are attracted to men in jail. Now I know. It’s because you want to help them.

When the butterfly kiss ends, I ask, “What happened?”

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