Page 36 of Icing the Enemy

A few minutes later, she marches back in the room, handing me the stack of papers. Her eyes are tired. I can’t imagine reading documents like this for eight hours a day.

“Where did he take you to dinner?”

“Lou’s.”

“Sis, you should see this girl at Pacman. It’s unreal.”

She mumbles under her breath, “You should have taken her to the 401. No wonder you’re single.”

He ignores her, wrapping her in a hug. “Love you. We’ll talk later.”

She gives him a nod of acceptance as she walks us to the door. I sense that she has more to say but doesn’t want to say it in front of me. Probably “Run, Corbin, run,” but for different reasons than in Forrest Gump.

“Thank you. I appreciate you looking at this. I don’t have money for my own lawyer, and I don’t understand the legal terminology.”

“Yeah, thanks, Becca.”

She folds her lips inside, covering her teeth, and I can tell the gears inside her head are turning. Becca’s tone softens, but her stance is rigid. “It can be frustrating and intimidating for people who don’t have a background in law. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Corby.”

When we get back in the truck, I cackle. “Corby?”

“Childhood nickname.”

“It sounds like that stuffed animal that everyone wanted for one year. What was it? They could talk and respond to commands. One of my friends had one. They were so stinking cute.”

“A furby,” he utters, sounding slightly embarrassed. “My uncle worked for the National Security Agency, and they were banned because they could record audio and video.”

“Hmm, interesting, Corby. Corby. Corby.”

He turns onto the interstate to take me home.

“You’re annoying.”

“Just to you.”

“I’m putting in the contract that you have to be less annoying.”

“Aww, Corby. I’m sure you can find a way to make that happen.”

Knowing full well he’s attracted to me and me to him, but we can’t let that get in the way of the goal—get married and access my money. For him, get the press off his back.

Darkness stretches over the sky, but I’m feeling hopeful that Corbin has been put into my life for a reason. It may not be conventional, but we can have a life for a little while. We can pretend to be in love, but I don’t know how we can live together without tearing off each other’s clothes or killing each other.

He pulls in front of my apartment and while walking me to the door, his voice strains against his throat like he doesn’t mean to say his words aloud. “If I keep your mouth stuffed with… you can’t annoy me.”

Stuffed with what? Food? A cloth covered in formaldehyde? Or….

Oh. Does he mean what I think he does? Arousal pools in my underwear at the thought as I open the door and wave goodbye.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

corbin

Daytwo of practice is a welcome respite from my constant thoughts of a certain sassy blonde, but if I’m honest, I can’t wait to see her today. I’m picking her up early in the afternoon since her last hair appointment is at noon, and she’s planning our second fake date.

When I got home last night, I spent an unreasonable amount of time giving myself a release as I thought of her legs and the few times she seemed vulnerable. Then I couldn’t sleep for the same reasons and fisted myself once again until I shot my load all over my hand and stomach. It’s becoming a habit.

Adam Finnegan, our new goalie steps onto the ice right before me. “Do you want to do some one-on-one work after practice? I need as much time blocking as possible,” he offers.

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