Page 72 of Icing the Enemy

The most satisfying feeling washes over my body, and I skate to the boards where she’s sitting a few rows up.

Removing my helmet, I yell back, “And that’s my beautiful wife.”

In the end, I score again and when I see her outside the locker room, I whisk her into my arms. Embracing the woman I love has new meaning, knowing she loves me too.

She says, “I’m so proud of you.” And as I ease her to the floor, she takes a deep breath. “Will you wear this?”

She holds a thick gold band in her palm. I pick up the simple band, and it has something engraved on the inside. It reads, “Always, Your Little Thief.”

My voice cracks, “It’s perfect. When did you get it?”

Oakley slides it onto my finger. “Today, and I used money from my little hair business.” She beams with pride, which makes her even more stunning.

I whisper, “Thank you. I tried so hard to ice you out and make you the enemy, but each day, you took up more space in my heart. There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

She presses her luscious pink lips to mine and says, “But we chose love.”

“Yes, we did.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

oakley

5 MONTHS LATER

“The Nashville Notesare playoff bound due to Corbin Shearer having his best season since entering the league. They’ll be playing against the Dallas Rattlers and his former Stallion teammate John “The Godfather” Basilio on Monday. Corbin, how does it feel to not only be the captain of this team but also the leader in every offensive category?”

I watch the live feed on the television outside the locker room. Corbin has a towel thrown over his naked shoulder as Erin Jasser, sports reporter, holds the microphone in his face. He shakes his head, looking sexy as hell and tunneling his fingers through his hair. It’s shaggy and wet as water droplets fall to his chest. When Corbin’s chest is littered with water beads is when my mind always, and I mean always, goes to sex.

“I’m looking forward to playing Basilio. He made a quick trip in for my wedding reception, and he’ll always be one of my best friends, but when we play, friendship doesn’t cross my mind until the buzzer sounds. I’m going to enjoy this win with my wife tonight and tomorrow, then the team will focus on the Rattlers. I want to thank the fans for supporting the team, and we hope to see you in Dallas.”

He's a professional in every sense of the word. The game is intense as the teams traded the lead a couple of times.

The players trickle out, and Corbin is the last one through the door. His head is down, pinching his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Mamaw called to congratulate me.”

“Why are you upset?”

Enclosing me with his arms, he kisses the crown of my head and says, “She sounded different. There was a gurgle in her voice.”

“Maybe she’s got a cold.”

I hear the worry in his voice and in the pressure of his hug. “Come on, Sugarbear. I’ll make you feel better.” I laugh, using the nickname his Mamaw gave him. He doesn’t laugh or speak, so I pull away and say, “Do you want me to call her back? Mamaw would not want you to worry. She would want you to celebrate. Winnie invited us to go to the 629, the new dance club, and we’re going.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

He sighs and mumbles, “I really want to go home and veg on the couch.”

“Well, I wanted to keep my job so we’re even.”

“No fair. You did keep your job. You just do it from home.”

He’s right. My client, Marisol, has become a breakout star since I did her hair before her audition. So now, I have a salon out of our house where I style hair for the WAGS, country music stars like Lettie and now Marisol. It’s strictly word of mouth because Corbin has issues with people he doesn’t know in our house, wanting to make sure Dixie and I are safe when he’s out of town.

He’s had a girl stalking him this year, and she’s been jailed twice. He pressed charges the last time, but she was out within forty-eight hours.

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