Page 40 of The Pucking Arrangement

“Both? I don’t know.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Sometimes he looks at me like he wants to eat me for breakfast...” My voice trails off as the memory slams into me—the way his gaze burned this morning.

Sophie rests her chin on her hand. “And then?”

“And then he goes full Commander Grumpy and barely speaks in full sentences.” I sigh. “It’s infuriating. And stupidly hot.”

She smirks. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Avoid him at all costs, I suppose.”

Sophie snorts. “That’ll work great, considering you live in his house.” She leans forward, her expression shifting from amused to serious. “Liam’s a little worried, you know. About both of you.”

I frown. “Both of us?”

She takes a slow sip of her coffee, watching me carefully. “He says Dmitri’s been...off. Distracted.” Her gaze flicks over me. “And you’re clearly…” She gestures vaguely at my general disaster state.

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” I protest weakly. “Just need to adapt to the new situation. Learn the routines. Definitely not think about how he says my name in that accent or how his large hands look wrapped around his coffee mug or what other parts of his body might be large—” I stop, mortified. “Oh God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

“A little bit.” She squeezes my hand, fighting a grin. “But hey, heisridiculously hot, and it’s only been a day. I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

Except...I don’t want it to get easier. I want it to get so hard that he snaps.

I sit back, stirring my tea absently, the words forming before I even realize I’m saying them. “It’s like I drank four cups of coffee after a sleepless night. I’m shaky and tingly and buzzing all over. And I feel like nothing I do will have any consequences.”

Sophie lifts a brow. “Oh?”

I exhale sharply, then make the decision. “So, I’m thinking...maybe I go for it. Make it real hard for him to resist. Maybe he’ll be up for some casual hanky-panky with his daughter’s nanny.”

Sophie’s jaw drops. Then she gasps, reaching for my hand. “Erin.”

“What?” My heart is already thundering. “He wants me. I know he does. I see it every time he looks at me. He’s just holding back.” I take a deep breath, my voice lowering. “I don’t want him to hold back.”

Sophie’s eyes widen before she lets out a delighted giggle. “Oh my God. He’s gonna look so good wrapped around your finger, E.”

I laugh, heat curling in my stomach. “I can’t help it. I got itrealbad for this dude. And the more he growls, the more I want to break him.” I hesitate, then ask the question that’s been plaguing me for days. “Do you think he’s bossy in the bedroom?”

Sophie nearly chokes on her cappuccino before dissolving into giggles. “That’s absolutely a possibility, girl.” She smirks, fanning herself. “You better go and find out. You owe this information to womankind.”

Before I can reply, my phone alarm chirps—time for school pickup.

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “It shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Sophie just grins, sipping her latte. “I give him three days before he cracks.”

Oh, I fully plan to make sure of it.

“I’ll see you at the game tonight!” she calls after me as I head for the door.

The game. Right. Hours of watching Dmitri slam other players into the boards, all power and grace and dominance.

Exactly the inspiration I need to figure out how to make him snap.

* * *

The carpool line at Ris’s school is a masterclass in wealth and weaponized small talk. Luxury SUVs gleam under the afternoon sun, their drivers locked in the kind of polite-yet-cutthroat gossip that only Westchester moms can pull off.

And, of course, there’s Melissa.

Standing at the center of a perfectly curated group of women, expensive blowouts and designer outfits, radiating the distinct energy of people who very likely consider Pilates to be a competitive sport.

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