Page 141 of Waiting Game

“If you wore it on game nights. You can be my good luck talisman.”

Her brow furrows. “Why would I be that?”

“Because I said so.” I bat my lashes at her. “Plus, the thought of you wearing my name gives me an erection, therefore it’s a win-win.”

“Huh. So, what you’re saying is it’s not about being a good luck talisman and about everyone in my bar knowing that I’m yours?”

“Exactly,” is my smug retort.

“I should wear Gagné’s to put you in your place.”

Well aware she’s teasing, I pout. “Not nice.”

That earns me another eye roll, then she surprises me by dragging it on and doing a turn.

“Fuck.” My voice is beyond guttural. “You look so hot.”

“You’re easy.”

“For you. I figured that out months ago,” I dismiss.

“I don’t get it. I-I’m not that special.”

“I need to prove to you that you are then.”

“Is that really your job?”

“It is if I make it so.”

She harrumphs but positions the gear I brought with me onto the shelves, muttering again, “I should toss you out of the bar for your nerve.”

“I warned you months ago that I was cheeky,” I inform her piously. “You can’t blame me?—”

“Sure I can.” She clucks her tongue. “I’ll wear it on game nights but you have to make it worth my while afterward.”

“That is a deal my entire body can stand behind.”

Her harrumph morphs into a laugh when she notices I signed one of the tumblers. “Look, it even has remnants of the authentic Cole Korhonen protein shake in it.”

“The black mold will be priceless in ten years.”

“If you say so.” She smirks as she props it on a shelf.

“Did I tell you that I love how tall you are?”

“Used to be a curse on the ice. Had to get hella tall partners. They’re a rare commodity.”

“You really do need to teach me how to figure skate.”

She gives me the side eye. “My rates aren’t fourteen grand a week.”

“They can be.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “I need special aftercare.”

At first, I think she’ll be angry at my teasing, but she blows out her cheeks. “You think you’re charming, don’t you?”

“We both know I am.”

That earns me another harrumph. “Can you put this helmet up there, please? I’m not tall enough to reach that shelf.”

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