Page 55 of Pucked Up and Married (Las Vegas Angels 4)

Confused, I asked, “What did she mean?”

She continued, “Because your left guides and harnesses the power of your right. There’s no aim without your left. Either they work in tandem—or not at all.”

Her fingers glided along my cheekbones and down my neck.

“One,” she dipped her fingers into the container and came out with more gloopy glop, “helps the other,” she smeared another thick layer on my neck, “and together—they make magic.”

I stared into her eyes and thought about her powerful words.

“So, when I play, I imagine her on my left, guiding every shot, making sure I relax and let the magic happen.”

I understood her words. “Your dad gave you your right, but your mom’s on your left.”

She smiled wider this time and nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s really beautiful, sweetheart. But you know the truth? It’s all you. The power, the control—everything you are on the ice is all, one hundred percent—you.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at me with—what seemed like love in her eyes.

I gripped her hips tighter. “I’ve never seen a better shot on the ice in my life.”

It was then she broke the spell. “Stop talking or you’re going to crack the mask,” she said and stepped out of my grasp. She washed her hands, then was about to squeeze the cleanser into her palm.

“Hey,” I said and took the bottle from her before anything came out, “that’s my job.”

I proceeded to stand up and move her to the seat I’d been in. “Now, it’s your turn.”

The look she gave me wasn’t exactly full of confidence. Still, she stayed. Which again surprised me.

I rubbed the apricot cleanser into her skin as gently as I could, then did the whole washcloth thing, too.

When I stuck the warm cloth on her face, I set my hands on her shoulders and slowly rubbed the tops of them. Her shoulders slumped and she moaned.

I used more pressure this time, and her head tipped forward, making the cloth fall to the floor.

Lexi didn’t seem to care, so neither did I. And, the real bonus was that she let me move my hands over her soft skin. Slowly, her muscles loosened under my fingers and she became more pliable.

I rubbed down each arm, right to her fingertips—erasing the tension and strain she held in them.

Finally, she gazed up at me and said, “Thanks, that felt nice.”

I grinned down at her mellow, peaceful expression. “Anytime.”

“Okay, mask time,” she announced, picking up the dreaded black jar of muck.

“Blah, are you sure you want this on your face?” I asked cautiously and hoped she’d change her mind for her sake.

She giggled softly. “It’s just a mask.”

I took a deep breath and plastered the crap onto her face. “This seems like a really bad idea,” I muttered mostly to myself as I put one last finishing touch on her chin. I didn’t go down her neck like she’d done with mine. This seemed like too much as it was.

I washed my hands and then Lexi traded places with me again.

Apparently, it was time to remove my mask.

Thank, God.

She rolled a small piece on my forehead and pulled it down slightly.

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