Page 57 of The Playmaker

“Truthfully, I don’t know what

’s going on. I can’t seem to come up with any good ideas lately.” I exhale slowly and wonder if he really wants to be talking about this. Other than Jess, no one wants to hear me go on about my books or my characters.

“How can I help?”

“You are helping with all the sex and hockey lesson.”

“Seriously, Nina. I might not be able to give you any ideas, but you can use me as a sounding board.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

My heart wobbles a bit, touched by his gesture.

“Do you know what a trope is?”

“Not really.”

I grab the remote and flick the channels until a chick flick comes on. “This is my favorite Ryan Reynolds movie,” I say.

“Never seen it.”

I lower the volume and stare at the screen. “You don’t watch romantic comedy?”

“Do I need to remind you about my man card again?”

I laugh. “But you read romance books?”

“Only yours.”

“Okay, tropes. You know in my book, Tempt Me Twice, the hero is a construction worker and the heroine is a rich socialite? They come from different sides of the tracks. That’s a trope.”

“I get it.”

“Cinderella, that’s a rags-to-riches story.”

He nods. “Makes sense.”

We both briefly turn toward the TV, in time to see Ryan Reynolds spill his coffee all over himself as he hurries to bring his witch boss her drink.

“Hey, maybe you could use fake marriage, like they do in this movie. That’s a trope, right? Maybe one of the hockey players has to get married for whatever reason.”

I sit up and stare at him. “Really, Cole?”

“What, that will work, won’t it?”

“You’re a freaking liar.” I point to the TV. “You said you’ve never seen this, yet you know exactly what the trope is.”

A sexy grin curls his mouth. “Good guess.”

“Big. Fat. Liar,” I say, and he drags me to him.

He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, lust pushing back the humor in his eyes. “This smart mouth,” he says, and presses his lips to mine. I melt into him, and his kisses are soft, slow, as his hands slide down to cup my ass. “This ass,” he murmurs. His erection swells against my leg, and I move restlessly.

He groans. “Want to take this upstairs? Work on those other moves for your book?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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