Page 45 of Icing the Enemy

“If they’re all like Becca, then yes,” I reply truthfully.

“Once you get to know her, and she realizes you’re not trying to take advantage of me, then she'll come around. She will do absolutely anything for me, even keep our secret from my family.” He reassures me, although notes of sadness weave through his tone, and I’m left to wonder if he’ll actually go through with this marriage.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

corbin

As Oakleyand I walk into Stinson’s party with our hands interlocked together, and a rush of emotions snakes through me. Despite being hot and sticky in Nashville, Oakley wears an off-white macrame tank top that allows a peek into what’s underneath with a short, white mini skirt and a pair of sandals.

Every guy’s head turns as they see her. There’s a faint whisper before one of my teammates says, “Damn, Shearer. Where have you been hiding her?”

In true Oakley fashion, she blurts out, “Jail.”

The room erupts in roaring laughter. “She’s the one who stole your truck.”

“Borrowed, she borrowed it.”

Beaming, she looks up at me and says, “Now you believe me.”

I lean down and peck her lips to make a good show of our first date in front of my friends. As we pull apart, our eyes lock and for a moment, being with her, here and now, it feels like it’s where I’m supposed to be.

It’s getting harder to keep up the act of pretending that I hate her and that she annoys me, but I know I can’t let myself get caught up when all she wants is access to her trust fund. WhenI’m with her, I never know what to expect, and her spontaneity is a turn on. Just live.

Her smile is effervescent, as she tugs me back down and whispers over my mouth, “That was nice.”

Nice? Huh.

My smile fades, and it’s like she can read my mind. “It’s a compliment. A perfect kiss for that moment.”

Stinson’s wife drags us outside to the pool where they’re making different flavors of margaritas. When she offers me one, I decline, but Oakley says, “I thought we were going to let loose tonight. You don’t have practice tomorrow.”

Spoken like a true girlfriend. And like a good boyfriend, I give into her requests. She makes a pineapple margarita for herself and a regular one for me. We sit on the edge of the pool with several of my teammates and their significant others, talking about hockey before Oakley gets us another drink. When she returns, she emerges in nothing but a white bikini.

My jaw hits the floor. My mouth is dry like it’s filled with sand as I choke out, “Holy mother of Jesus.” It's almost inaudible, but she knows what I’m thinking because she’s left me speechless. I have to force myself to look away before I drag her from the pool and do what I’ve been dreaming of for weeks. But even then, out of the corners of my eyes, I’m obsessed with her every move.

My chest rises, and my heart races. She’s reading me like an open book, knowing I want her, and I’m betting she can feel the power she has over me. Oakley struts toward me, hands me my drink, and, in a devil-can-do manner, brushes her chest against me, sending an electrical current down my spine.

She swallows a hefty drink of her pineapple margarita and says, “Anyone want to play pool volleyball? Rules are you can’t be on the same team as your partner.”

Everyone yells, “Hell yeah.”

She comes up to me, placing her hand firmly on my chest, and I know she can feel my body respond to her touch, and she revels in it. I can practically see the smirk playing on her lips, knowing she has me wrapped around her finger. “You pick first, and we have to alternate girls, guys, etc.”

“Winnie.” Finnegan’s girl claps and high fives me.

“You. Sorry, I don’t know your name,” she says to Adam. Of course, she chooses him because he's the tallest. The goalies usually are so they can take up more space in front of the net. Oakley smirks at me. This girl with the dog has turned out to be quite a competitor.

He throws his hand over his chest. “I’m Adam. Is this what she does to you, Shearer? Acts like she doesn’t know who you are.” He chuckles.

“I had no clue who he was when we met at Buc-ee’s,” Oakley spills.

“Buc-ee’s? This is a story we haven’t heard. Why is that, Shearer?” Baker says.

“Shut up. You’re on my team, Baker. Where’s your girl tonight?”

“Living the good life by myself.”

Oakley says, “Why do guys feel the need to screw different women? I mean, really?” The women around the pool grumble in agreement. “Find one that rocks your world and find out how great it can be.”

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