Page 10 of The Labor Date
The talkwith Duke and Saint helped a little. At least the romancing part. Tonight, I decide to take a different approach. No more glaring at Winston, no more muttered insults under my breath when he hisses.
If Holly loves pink, then I’m going all in. Pink roses in a vase. Pink candles flickering on the table. Even a box of pink chocolates I tracked down in town, set out like I’d been planning this all week.
Holly’s eyes light up when she walks in. “Scott, for me? This is beautiful. And pink.” She sets down Winston’s carrier and lets him out of it.
“You’rebeautiful. I thought you’d like it.” I grin and kiss her. Like the first time, this kiss sends a rush of lust through my veins, because Holly doesn’t just kiss back, she leans in. She grasps my shoulders as if I’m keeping her afloat. She glides her thigh very sultry-like up my leg. And her moans vibrate my chest like she’s a purring cat herself.
I try to ignore the low growl rumbling from Winston, perched on the counter like a judgmental king on his throne. His eyes razor sharp, I’m amazed they don’t cut the roses in half.
“Wow. What did I do to deserve that kiss? And can I have more?” I tease, refusing to let her body go.
“Just a thank you for helping me clean up Winston’s mess last night. That’s more than my ex would ever do.” Breathless in my arms, she smells so good. Like expensive perfume. Somedesigner in France has no idea that she wears it and owns it, that one whiff of her and I’m hard like a rock.
“I’m here for you. For fun. For clean up. Whatever.” I continue to pursue her neck, to her earlobe. “Maybe we could give Winston a little space tonight. Just you and me. Privacy.” My cock wholeheartedly agrees to this plan, twitching in my sweatpants.
She tilts her head, considering. “It’s probably time for Winston’s exercise, anyway. I’ll put him on the treadmill.”
I blink. “The cat has a treadmill?”
“Of course. Exercise is very important for a healthy body.”
“You sure do a lot for that ol’ boy.”
“He does a lot for me. He deserves the pampering .” She scoops him up and kisses him on the head, ignoring his squirming protests. Pampering or not, I’m not sure he likes the treadmill. “Will twenty minutes be enough time for our… privacy?”
“Plenty. For now,” I grin at him. Yep, you go get your sweat on, cat. I’m getting it on with Holly.
She carries him to another room. Moments later, I hear the faint whir of machinery and a very undignified yowl. Twenty minutes alone with Holly? Let’s see how far I get.
8
WINSTON
The indignity.My paws thump against the cursed treadmill, the belt humming beneath me like a torture device. Holly coos as she leaves, telling me I’m a “good boy” while that intruder gets twenty minutes alone with her. Twenty minutes too long.
I glance at the flashing red timer. Nineteen minutes left. My tail lashes with fury.
He thinks he’s clever with his pink flowers and sweet talk, but I see through him. A brainless man-child on blades, chasing pucks for a living. Hardly worthy of my Holly’s affection.
She deserves adoration, a palace of pillows, shrimp for breakfast—not some sweaty brute who smells of ice rinks and testosterone.
The treadmill whirs faster. I leap off, landing gracefully on the mat beside it. They think they can lock me away? Ha. Winston can never be truly contained. The moment that door cracks open, I’ll be back where I belong—between her and him. Always.
For now, I sharpen my claws on the mat and plot. Because no matter what schemes he cooks up, I’ll be ready.
9
SCOTT
Holly returnsto me after putting Winston on his treadmill. She leans into me, the flicker of pink candles painting her skin with a soft glow. My pulse hammers like I’m skating into overtime. When her lips curve into a teasing smile, I forget about the cat, the team, the world outside this home.
“You really went all out.” She flutters her lashes, nibbling on a corner of the chocolate. She brushes a fingertip over the petal of a rose before tracing that same finger down my chest. “Pink candles, pink sweets. You’re either incredibly thoughtful or trying way too hard.”
“Maybe both,” I admit with a grin. “But I figure if it gets me closer to you, it’s worth it.”
Her laugh is low and throaty, and then her first kiss is tentative, like she’s testing me. Only I plan to ace it. I slide a hand to the small of her back and pull her flush against me, deepening the kiss. The test quickly turns into a full-on surrender. I need more of her sweet lips.
When I tug her gently onto my lap as I take a seat, she gasps but doesn’t resist. “Cocky hockey player,” she whispers against my mouth, “thinking one bouquet earns you this.”
