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And just as quickly as it happened, he releases me and turns for the wine bottle.

A flash of deeper intimacy is what he just gave me, and my pulse jackhammers in my veins. He kept it brief, making it comfortable for me.

To give me time to adjust.

A rush of affection hits that he would be so considerate. Even though we’ve only known each other a few weeks, I’m so touched that he’s taking the time to understand me.

My hand shoots out and grabs the sleeve of his shirt. His neck twists as he looks back at me over his shoulder, eyebrows raised quizzically. “You’re like a dream.”

A slow smile makes his gorgeous face breathtaking. “You’re making me blush.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. Releasing my hold on his sleeve, I reach for the oven mitts again.

Except I don’t get my hands on them because he’s jerking me into his body, and his mouth is on mine, kissing me so passionately, my knees buckle. His arm around my back holds me up, pressed to his body. His other hand cups the side of my face.

When he pulls back, he looks down at me with a smile so tender, I don’t expect it after such a sizzling kiss. But my heart—protected by high, thick walls—melts when he says, “You’re like a dream too.”

I’m so dazzled, I don’t even think to protest when he lets me go and reaches for the mitts. “I’ll get the food out. You look in the bag… I brought you a present.”

A present?

I take the white bag, peek inside, and pull out a teddy bear. It’s wearing a Titans jersey, and when I flip it, I see it has Gage’s name and number on the back.

“Oh my gosh… where did you get this?” I ask, as I’ve not seen this in any of our merchandising.

He glances at me briefly as he puts the roasting pan on the stove top. “A man can’t reveal all his secrets. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” I say, giving it a squeeze. I don’t admit it to him, but I’ll sleep with it tonight.

The smile he gives me says he already knows that’s what I’m thinking.

?

The food was good, but the dinner conversation was better. Gage insisted on cleaning the kitchen, and I was ordered to watch and keep him entertained.

I’m not sure there’s anything sexier than a man so comfortable at the sink, washing dishes with a towel thrown over his shoulder and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Those forearms… so strong and—

“… he’ll get a second opinion, of course,” Gage says, and I shake my head to focus on his words. What were we talking about? “But I think this is going to put him out for the rest of the season.”

Oh yeah… Jesper Keane, our goalie who was injured yesterday during the game. “How do you treat a groin injury?” I ask.

Gage glances over his shoulder and offers a wicked smile. “Unfortunately for him… lots of rest and no strenuous movements.”

I snicker and sip my wine.

Gage returns his attention to the roasting pan. “Losing Jesper and Coen is going to hurt.”

“It’s also bad press for the team. Brienne had a call this morning with the director and producers about being delicate in handling the Coen situation.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t pull the plug on it,” Gage says, rinsing the pan under the tap. “Although it’s not like it’s a secret. All the TV cameras there caught every bit of it.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I say. I’ve gleaned a solid understanding of this woman and the way she thinks over the last few weeks. She’s as transparent as they come. “She didn’t want Coen bothered with this. Doesn’t want them chasing after him. But she also didn’t tell them to avoid the subject.”

“Yeah… it’s the last thing Coen needs.”

Gage snags the towel from his shoulder and dries the pan. He glances at me and I nod toward the cabinet where he tucks it away.

“Have you heard anything about what’s going to happen with Coen?” I ask.

Gage shakes his head as he pulls the plug on the water and the sink drains. “Not today, but I know he met with Callum. I’m assuming he hasn’t been kicked off the team as we haven’t heard anything, plus Coach Keller was in an extremely pissy mood at practice. I’m guessing it’s because Coen’s still a Titan.”

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “I still can’t believe Keller yelled at him in front of the whole team. It’s one thing to have those feelings, and I’m sure there have been coaches who’ve felt that way about players throughout the history of hockey, but that was so uncool to handle it like that.”

“Very uncool,” Gage agrees as he sprays down the sink and rinses out the dish sponge. “I’m just hoping Coen takes our suggestion to give this some time. Take a step back and think about it. Best thing might be for him to get suspended and be forced away from the team.”

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