Page 46 of Blindsided By the Enforcer

“I used to look so forward to these green pieces of French toast when I was a kid. I would come running down the stairs just waiting to eat these.”

“You have some nice memories,” I tell her.

“Was it not the same for you?” she asks, her lips turning down.

I shake my head. “Nah, it’s no big deal, but Mom didn’t really have any rituals and Dad was too busy grooming me to be him.”

“I’m sorry.” She rubs my back and having her hands on me makes my mind wander. I look down at her fine ass in those leggings and heat crawls up my spine. I will myself to get a grip.

“I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. I was a pretty spoiled kid,” I tell her.

“Having materialistic things isn’t everything.”

“I can’t argue with that. I’m kind of excited to get our dance on the ice.”

Her blue eyes bore into mine and my stomach ties into knots. I lick my lips, trying to remember the sweet way she tasted. I don’t think either of us expected that kiss to last so long, or for her to moan into my mouth as I pulled her closer. I wasn’t expecting her or that kiss and she threw me for a loop that night. It’s why I couldn’t take Luc up on his offers to go pick up girls in Florida because Annie was somehow burned into my memory, and it was that good.

We finally plate the French toast and take the heaping plates of food over to her dad in the living room.

“You made our special breakfast,” he says to Annie.

“Actually, Cade did.”

He watches me with surprise.

“I heard you kids laughing your heads off in there. Nothing like hearing happy people on Christmas morning. Now, let’s dig in,” he says.

Annie runs off to the kitchen to get the maple syrup.

“Just don’t break her heart, Cade,” he warns me.

His words make me feel bad because we’ve been deceiving him.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I assure.

“Good.”

“Here we go,” Annie says as she places the maple syrup on the coffee table. We all dig in.

“Cade, you have to try the French toast,” she insists, taking a hearty bite.

“It’s green.” I don’t mean to wince, but I’m not very good at keeping a poker face unless I’m on the ice and want to psych out an opponent.

Annie and her dad break into laughter.

“It’s not food coloring. I just use the bottle for storage. It’s a sweet spearmint flavoring. It’s really delicious,” her dad explains. “It’s got a hint of cinnamon too.”

I’m wary but I take a bite and, holy hell. “This is delicious.” I point my fork to the piece of French toast.

“Told you.” Annie gives me a knowing look.

After breakfast, I watch them open gifts. Annie opens gifts from her parents and her dad opens a gift from her and her mom. It’s kind of odd her mom didn’t hang around for this.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get you anything,” her dad says to me.

“Don’t apologize, I was a last-minute guest. Thanks for having me. It’s been a real experience,” I say.

“Sally thinks so too. She’s never kissed a guy who’s going to be a famous hockey player.” He begins to laugh and regrets it when his back pulls.

---