Mr. Ice Guy (Sven’s Beard #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Sven's Beard Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
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“Thanks, but I haven’t always been,” he said. “I missed a lot of my kids’ early childhood because I was so focused on hockey. Even in the offseason, which is when I did endorsement stuff and offseason training. My ex-wife...” He looked away and then back at me. “She said she cheated on me because she felt like a single mom, and I’m not excusing what she did, but...I own that I should have been a better partner and parent.”

He was a unicorn, a man who was emotionally healthy enough to own his shit and not blame everyone but himself for his issues. Every man I’d ever dated had been...well, not a unicorn.

The music stopped and we stood together in silence for a few seconds as the singer for the band announced they were taking a break.

“Hey!” a voice boomed from nearby. “Music’s over, asshole. And that’s my sister.”

Holt and I both turned to find Grady glaring at us. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Fuck off, Grady.”

My brother didn’t like it when men so much as looked at me, and he about jumped out of his skin if he saw someone actually touching me. To him, I was eternally his innocent, underage little sister.

“Let it go, man,” Holt said to Grady. “She’s not wearing a habit.”

Grady’s jaw dropped with disbelief. He wasn’t used to people giving his shit right back to him.

Grady pointed at Holt as we left the dance floor. “If you take advantage of my sister, I’ll”

“Whoa there.” Avon inserted herself between Grady and Holt. “Let’s go get some air, babe.”

Coulter joined the two of them. “Yeah, it’s definitely time for some fresh air. Let’s go.”

Holt and Grady’s gazes were locked in an alpha male stare-off. I tried to lead Holt in the opposite direction, but he wouldn’t budge.

Finally, Grady left with Avon and Coulter. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Holt said, his eyes apologetic. “I’m not backing down from him when I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Men. I didn’t understand why they had to piss on things and pound their chests to prove their virility.

“I know,” I said. “My brother isn’t reasonable about some things.”

He nodded. “He’s always been that way.”

“Always.”

Holt looked from side to side. “Something smells amazing.”

“I think it’s potato skins. They make killer potato skins here.”

“You feel like getting some food?”

I nodded. “I’m famished. And thirsty.”

“Let’s do it, then. I bet you don’t get many meals you didn’t have to cook yourself.”

I laughed. “I don’t eat the stuff you guys get in the dining hall. I’m lucky if I get to scarf a muffin or a turkey sandwich during the day.”

“That’s not cool.”

I shrugged. “I love cooking for other people. That’s the fun part of it for me.”

“Have you always loved it?”

“As long as I can remember. I always wanted to help my mom in the kitchen.”

We walked into the dining side of The Barn, where Holt found a small, open table for two.

“Tell you what,” he said as we both sat down. “You teach me a few things in the kitchen, and then I’ll make you a fantastic dinner.”

My stomach flipped at how date-like his invitation sounded.

“I’m in,” I said.

“I’ll cook for you in my new kitchen. My house should be done in about a month.”

“How’s it coming?”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “I love it. You should come by and see it sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

I didn’t know what I was doing. Because I wasn’t the kind of woman who messed around with a single dad. Especially not one so fresh off of his last relationship, trying to raise his kids completely alone.

But the time I’d spent with Holt was the longest I’d gone without thinking about work in a very long time, and it felt good.

I’d go home to my little bungalow on Main Street alone later tonight. But until then, I was going to enjoy myself and let my worries catch up with me tomorrow.

CHAPTER NINE

Holt

“My man!” Grady called out as he approached me in the lobby of The Sleepy Moose.

I stood and shook his outstretched hand, unsure what he was doing here. Marley was doing a bug-catching day camp for kids staying at The Moose, and Spencer was helping Shea in the kitchen. I was using the few hours of alone time to catch up on emails at a quiet little nook on one end of the lobby.

“You’re on Team Grady!” my friend said, still pumping my hand. “For the showdown! We’re gonna dominate!”

“Oh.” I grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. “Hey, let’s do it.”

“I assume you can train anytime?”

“Train?”

“Yeah, we’re not taking any chances. The events are archery, ring toss, pole climb, an obstacle course and rowing.”

I ran my hand over my face, where my beard was getting long and thick enough for a trim.

“Okay, and who are we doing this with?”


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