When she frowned, he cocked his head. "The wind chill. " What? "You know? Mark Twain? " Her brows pulled together. "I know who Mark Twain is, and I'm familiar with the quote. " Though it's a common misnomer, and Twain didn't actually say it. Still, it is windy in the city— "I just don't know why you think I'm cold, and it's not—" She shook herself. "Never mind. " This was what her mind did. Every single time. It drifted, focused on mundane details she then couldn't prevent from bursting free. No surprise that once they were free, her conversations were punctuated with awkward pauses. Like the one happening now. Brit sighed. Failure. Total— "No, " Stefan said. "Tell me. What is it? " It was only because he seemed genuinely interested that she answered. "It's not summer. " "What? " Another sigh. Yep. Way to go, genius. "It's technically fall. Summer has been over for six-and-a-half days. " There was a moment of quiet, a long, uncomfortable pause during which neither of them spoke. Then surprisingly — shockingly — Stefan laughed.
Then added, after the room-at-large laughed, "Next question, please. " CHAPTER TWO THIS WAS IT, THE call up of her life. And Brit was sitting in the parking lot of the arena, unable to force her fingers off the steering wheel. "Get it together, " she muttered. "Or you will suck on the ice. " Harsh, probably. But the truth. Still, the words were enough. Enough to get her body in motion, to pop her door, and walk around to the trunk of her ten-year-old Corolla. Her gear was shoved inside the small space like a sausage threatening to burst from its casing. Brit grabbed the strap and hauled out her bag before slinging it across her shoulder. "You know they have guys for that. " The voice made her jump, and her eyes shot up, then up some more until she stared directly into the eyes of the captain of the San Francisco Gold, Stefan Barie. The slight tinge of a Minnesotan accent made her shiver. Uh-oh. And seriously, only a hockey fan would find a Minnesotan accent sexy. He smiled. "It's the coldest-winter-is-summer-in-San-Francisco thing. "
Her heart gave a little squeeze, her brain said, Uh-oh, but then before she could really panic, he spoke, "You're absolutely right. Now come on. " Snagging her sticks, he nodded toward the arena. "I'll show you the ropes. " CHAPTER THREE OH NO, THIS wouldn't do. This. Would. Not. Do. Brit stared up at the obviously hastily created sign — black squiggles of Sharpie and crumpled computer paper tended to highlight that fact. This would not do. "Okay then. See you on the ice, " Stefan said, handing over her sticks and walking down the hall. Brit dropped her bag to the black skate mat laid across the concrete floor, pushed open the door, and peered inside the room, just to make sure it wasn't full of her teammates, that this wasn't a lame joke for the new girl.
Football, hockey, and everything in between! Things are about to heat up on the ice and between the sheets. Each book is a fully fledged, standalone novel about forbidden love. What happens when you get your dream job and temptation is your ex-hockey-star boss? Or when the league's top wide receiver has his eyes on you and he's supposed to be just a client? Perhaps you find yourself in enemy territory because the woman you love is your best friend's sister? Amazon: Barnes and Noble: iTunes: Smashwords: Originally published on Wordpress