Page 116 of Romancing the Grump
Nathan closes his eyes as I trace a slow line down his skin, stopping when I reach the waistband of his dress pants. “I don’t mind you not minding,” he says, his voice low.
I settle back against his chest, loving that I can touch him like this, that I can be with him for real. “Oh, hey, I forgot to ask you something,” I say. I sit up and school my features, wanting to deliver this without cracking. I’ve been saving this joke for a long time. It’s terrible—truly the worst—but I am one hundred percent positive it is exactly the kind of joke that will make Nathan smile.
Not that I need the jokes anymore. He’s smiled at me tonight every time he’s looked at me. But I’ve been saving this one anyway, and right now feels like the perfect moment.
“Yeah? What is it?” Nathan asks.
His tone is so serious, so earnest, I almost break. But I keep it together and ask, “Did I tell you I finally figured out what enforcers do on the ice?”
He narrows his gaze, like he can’t quite tell if I’m joking or not. “You did not,” he says slowly.
I shrug, like I fully expected his answer. “Okay.Justchecking.”
Nathan freezes, holding my gaze before the brightest, most beautiful smile stretches across his face.
Then he throws his head back, eyes closed, and my very grumpy, perfectly imperfect, love-of-my-life hockey player starts to laugh.
EPILOGUE
SUMMER
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Nathan is leaning against my car when I leave the Summit at the end of the day. After the longest meeting of my life with the brand partners sponsoring the arena for the upcoming season, I honestly didn’t expect him to still be around—his practice was over hours ago.
“Hey,” I say as I reach him. “What are you still doing here?” I grab the strings of his hoodie and tug him down for a kiss.
“I left, then came back,” he says as he wraps his arms around me. “How are you?”
I settle against his chest. “Better now. My brain is so tired.”
“Would a donut help?”
I lean back and look at him, eyes wide. “For real?”
He lets me go long enough to open the passenger door ofhis Bronco, which is parked right next to my sedan, and pull out a box of donuts. I know without having to ask that they’re apple cider donuts from my favorite bakery in Harvest Hollow. They’re seasonal—you can only get them in the fall during the apple harvesting months—so I’ve been taking advantage while I can.
Nathan opens the box, sending a wave of apple-cinnamon scented air floating my way, and I almost groan with anticipation.
“You are the best boyfriend in the whole world,” I say as I lift a still-warm donut out of the box. “Do you want one?” I say, through a mouthful of donut. “I can’t eat the whole box.”
He reaches over and wipes a smear of cinnamon-sugar off my cheek. “I bet you could though.”
“Okay, true. But that doesn’t mean Ishould.”
Nathan grins. “You want to stop at one and have some dinner?”
I pick up a second donut. “I will stop at two. But can we just get takeout and eat at your place? I’m too tired to deal with fans.”
He motions to his car. “I had a feeling you might say that. There’s already Thai food in the Bronco.”
I eye him curiously. “Okay, what’s happening right now? Why are you wining and dining me with all of my favorite things?”
He smirks, then leans down and kisses my sugar-dusted lips. “Meet me at my place? I promise I’ll answer all of your questions there.”
It’s a good thing the drive from the Summit to Nathan’s condo is so short because I manage to eat my second donut, plus a third one before I arrive.
It’s possible I’m stress-eating. But I’m not sure why I’mstressed. The fact that Nathan picked up my favorite dinnerandsurprised me with donuts isn’t really out of the norm. We’ve only been together eight months, but he hasn’t wasted a single moment. He is an epically good boyfriend. Patient, attentive, loyal, protective without being oppressive. He does stuff like this all the time.
