Page 32 of Tangled Vows

“You’re giving up so much to help me out.” Not only did she have to leave her home, but she was also stuck being married to me for the next year or so. She wouldn’t be able to date or pursue a real relationship while we were together. For a woman in her mid-twenties who should be out having fun and maybe even falling in love, she was putting her life on pause for completely selfless reasons.

The thought of Shayla falling for another man caused a spark of jealousy to surge through my veins. It was completely irrational considering we weren’t really in a relationship and were only entering into this marriage of convenience to help her mom and salvage my career. But Shayla was a beautiful, smart, quick witted woman. It would be hard to give her up when the time came.

Shaking away those thoughts, I cleared my throat and continued. “I fully intend to pay off your mother’s house so you never have to worry about a mortgage again.” Shayla gasped and covered her mouth. Shock filled her stormy gray eyes, but I wasn’t done yet. “I’m also buying you a new car.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. I saw that rust bucket she drove and heard the rattling sound it made whenever she accelerated out of the parking lot. It was on its last leg whether she wanted to admit it or not. “You’re about to be married to one of the highest paid hockey players in all of North America. Don’t you think it will look kinda suspicious for me to let my wife drive around in a decade old sedan that needs a new transmission and paint job?”

She shivered at the wordsmy wifeas they rolled effortlessly off my tongue, but the reaction was short lived. She narrowed her gaze on me and took a step in my direction, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger into my chest. My little hellcat was back.

“Let’s get one thing straight. You don’tletme do anything. This isn’t the fifties. Just because we’ll be married doesn’t mean you’ll get to control me or what I do.”

I raised my hands placatingly, suppressing my mirth. She really was a fiery little vixen when she was worked up. My dick stirred to life in my pants imagining how wild she’d be in the sack. I fought the urge to grab her arm and pull her into my chest, tamping down all thoughts of her in my bed.

“I’m not trying to control you,” I assured her, but she wasn’t convinced. “I’m just trying to take care of you and convince the media we’re the real deal. No offense, but if you continue to drive that hunk of junk once we’re married, I’m going to look like a piece of shit who doesn’t care about you. How do you think that will look?”

She dropped her hand with a sigh.

“Like our marriage isn’t real.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “I’ll let you buy me a car.”

“Thank you.” I was prepared to take it to the junkyard and scrap it if she refused, but it looked like I wouldn’t have to resort to those extreme measures.

“But,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at me in warning, “you better not buy me the newest, most expensive car on the lot. “I’m a woman of simple means, and I’m not out to impress anybody.”

“You have my word.”

24

SHAYLA

“We need to practice flirting,” Easton said. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him. We were headed to the training center where he had a workout with the team, and I needed to prep the players’ smoothies. I looked left and right to make sure no one was around to hear. He went on, ignoring my deer in the headlights expression. “If we want people to believe our spur of the moment Vegas wedding is legit, they need to believe there’s something going on between us.”

“What does ‘practice flirting’ even mean?” I leveled my gaze on him, awaiting his answer. What exactly did he expect me to do? Giggle like a schoolgirl whenever he made a joke? Playfully smack his chest every time he teased me. Please, that wasn’t going to happen.

“It means…” he began, stepping into my space. I took a step back, but he continued toward me until my back hit the wall. I pressed my suddenly damp palms against the plaster, and blood pounded in my ears as he closed the distance between us. “That you need to start acting like you’re smitten with me.” He braced one arm above my head and smirked down at me, leaning inuntil his lips were mere inches from mine. I inhaled sharply, his masculine scent filling my nose as his fingers fluttered across my jaw. “It means no more insults. No glaring at me or rolling your eyes. You need to look at me like you can’t wait for me to slide my cock past those pretty pink lips and down your throat, and I’ll watch you like I know just how good you taste.”

Holy. Shit.His words should’ve had me burning with rage; instead, it was white-hot desire licking up my spine. I pressed my legs together to soothe the ache, but it did little to quell my need. Was this how it would be the whole time we were married? If so, it would be hard to stick to my no sex rule. I saw a lot of, ahem, self-care in my immediate future.

I whipped my head to the right at the sound of a throat clearing. Easton pushed off the wall casually, seemingly unaffected by the intrusion.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kent announced, a knowing grin plastered across his smug face.

“Yo-you didn’t. We were just heading to the training center.” My stammering voice came out higher than I intended.

“Right,” Kent drawled. “Take your time.” I watched his retreating form until he disappeared around a corner.

“See,” Easton said, and I turned back to face him. “That’s how it’s done. Rumors will be circulating before we even hit the ice.” My stomach sank. He’d been putting on a show, fully aware someone was standing there watching us. He only did all that because we had an audience. It was stupid of me to think that little interaction meant something. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He sauntered down the hall, following in Kent’s footsteps as I stood there mentally kicking myself for getting lost in the moment and forgetting he didn’t actually want me. Gritting my teeth, I followed after him.

“Was that really necessary?” I spat, keeping my voice low in case anyone else was close enough to hear.

“Yes, it was,” he deadpanned, refusing to slow down or look at me. Damn he’d been burning hot a moment ago, and now he was cold as ice. If I had any doubts that performance in the hallway was all an act, they quickly vanished. “Better get used to it,” he said as we reached the door to the weight room. He pressed his back to it as he met my eye. “There will be a lot more of it in the coming weeks.” With that, he disappeared inside, and I made my way to the kitchen. I’d have to take out my frustration on my cutting board. At least until tonight when I could break out my battery-powered stress reliever.

25

EASTON

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