Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Enough about me,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “What about you?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where are you from? Do you have a big family? Girlfriend?” I’m captivated by her cheeks turning red. “Wife?”
We’re interrupted by the waitress bringing our food so I don’t get to answer her questions right away. Willa appropriately oohs and aahs over the presentation of her eggs Benedict and I have a moment of regret for not ordering it myself. But the Reuben sandwich with homemade kettle fries looks pretty damn good.
I watch as she cuts into the poached egg on top, gets a little bit of everything on her fork and puts it in her mouth.
That fucking mouth that I’m pretty sure I will dream about tonight.
She closes her eyes, chews thoughtfully and then groans with satisfaction. That throaty rumble is sexy as hell, although I know she doesn’t mean it to be.
When she pins her gaze on me, it’s wide and awestruck. “That might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” she purrs.
Christ…
“I can’t remember,” I say cheekily and give her plate a pointed look. “Can I have a bite?”
“Absolutely,” she says without hesitation and cuts a portion for me. And then to my utter shock, she scoops it up—bread, steak, egg, goat cheese, sauce—and holds it out to me. I lean over the table and let her place the fork in my mouth.
I can’t help the groan of satisfaction that matches hers as I chew and swallow. “So good. But you asked about my family.”
Willa nods, her eyes flitting between me and the food as she cuts it up.
“Well, I’m from Minnesota. Grew up in a small town called Stillwater. My parents are amazing—Dad’s a civil engineer specializing in sustainable infrastructure projects, and Mom’s a curator and art historian at a regional art museum.”
“Very cool,” Willa drawls. “Siblings?”
“Three. Mike is the oldest and he’s a mechanical engineer. Then there’s me, followed by Jenny who’s in her second year of veterinary school, and last, the baby of the family, Lucas, who is in his senior year of high school. He’ll go into engineering like Dad and Michael.”
“That’s an accomplished family.”
“They’re the best. I wish I could say something bad about one of them, but I can’t. Wouldn’t trade them for all the money in the world.” I could go on and on, gushing about my family, but I’m acutely aware that it seems my upbringing was a hundred and eighty degrees different from Willa’s and I don’t want to call overt attention to that. So I attempt a little flirtatious humor. “But the thing you were really wondering about was whether I have a wife or girlfriend—”
Willa’s eyes flare and her jaw drops before she exclaims, “That is not what I’m really wondering.”
I smirk, not believing that for a second. “Well, the answer is I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.”
Lifting her chin, she gives me an overly exaggerated, dismissive look. “Good for you. Not that I was really interested in it.”
“You’re the one who asked,” I remind her.
“I was being polite.” She sniffs.
“It was an intrusive question.” It wasn’t, but I like poking at her.
Her eyes flash with a mixture of ire and amusement as she scoffs. “What are you… like eighteen or something?”
“Twenty-five,” I reply easily. “And you?”
“Now look who’s being intrusive.” She smirks, then ignores the question by concentrating on her food.
I watch her cut, load up her fork and take a bite. I wait until she’s chewing before I guess, “Without knowing anything about you, you look fairly close to my age… twenty-five. But since I know you went to medical school and residency, I’ll guess twenty-eight.”
Willa chews, tosses a thumb upward to indicate higher.
“Thirty?”
Thumb up again. Higher?
“Thirty-two?”
She swallows, wipes her mouth on the napkin. “Thirty-three.”
“It’s a beautiful thirty-three,” I say, shocking myself with the flirty tone. It’s usually not worth the effort, although I can be very charming when I want to be.
For some reason, I’m compelled to be now, with her.
Willa blushes and averts her gaze back to her plate. She clears her throat and asks, “Tell me how you got into hockey. I mean… your journey to play here with the Titans.”
I’d love to talk more about Willa, see if I can get her to blush again, learn more about this fascinating woman, but I appease her curiosity and share my history. “It’s not overly exciting, but I guess my parents and youth coaches would tell you I had a lot of natural ability when I was young. My parents really supported me and let me tell you, hockey is not an inexpensive sport. I played on high-level travel teams and then got recruited into one of the best junior leagues in the country at sixteen. Went and played on a team in Grand Rapids—”