Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I lift her to her feet with ease. She weighs nothing as I turn her and press her back to my front. Her head comes to the middle of my chest, so I have to bend down farther to wrap my arms around her middle. I thrust my clasped fists hard into her middle, and I guess it’s too hard, causing her tits to pop out the top of her dress.
Jesus fucking Christ above, are you kidding me?
But she’s still choking.
I want to protect her modesty, but I have to save her. I press again, her breasts bouncing with each thrust I give her, until finally, the piece of cake—which seems to be mainly the walnuts I added—that was lodged in her windpipe flies across the room to land on the table. Relief floods me as McDavid slumps against my chest. She gasps in air, and the motion reminds me how close she is. Her ass is curved against my middle from where I’ve surrounded her, and when I look down over her head, her pretty pink nipples are on display. I look away, breathing just as hard as she is.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m alive,” she groans. “Oh my God, don’t look. My boobs are out.”
“Not looking.” Which isn’t a lie since I’m not looking right now.
“I’m sure you got an eyeful.”
I ignore her comment. “You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah,” she says, moving out of my arms and adjusting her dress. I try not to react to the loss of her warmth as she turns to look at me. Her makeup is streaked down her face, and I can’t stop myself from swiping my thumbs over her cheeks. Her cheeks are so full, warm, and soft. I don’t want to stop touching her, but when she goes still at the touch, her watery gaze locking with mine, I pause.
“Sorry. Your makeup is all over the place.”
I move back a bit, stepping on the broken dish of the potpie. I steady myself when I almost slip, and then I crouch down to clean everything up. When she crouches too, I look over at her. “I’ve got this. Get a drink.” She waves me off, but I stop her, grabbing her wrist until she meets my gaze. “McDavid, get a drink.”
She hesitates only for a moment before she slides back into the booth, doing what I asked. I pile everything back onto the tray and then fix the rack so I can place it all on top. This is going great. As I slide back into the booth, her voice is low, shy, as she says, “Sorry about that.”
I shake my head, hating that she’s apologizing. “Hey, no worries. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Maybe I should go?”
I give her a look. “Why?”
“Because I choked on a piece of cake!”
“It had nuts in it.”
Her face is bright red. “You saw my boobs.”
“That’s hardly a hardship for me,” I tease, sending her a smirk. She glares and I grin. “I promise, I only looked for a moment.”
“A moment too long. I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
We share a long look, and thankfully, the blush starts to fade. “Yeah, I’d rather not die when you’re offering me your coffeehouse.”
I laugh at that, nodding slowly. I look up to find her watching me. “So, you’re interested?”
“I think that’s well known,” she says, pursing her lips at me. “I’ve only asked you to train me for over a year.”
“It comes with a hefty commitment.”
She presses her lips together. “I’m aware, and I’m sure we can come to a fair price. I hate to see you sell since it’s your dad’s and all, but I’ll care for it. I won’t even change the name.”
I can’t help but laugh. Her excitement falters as she sets me with a look. “The coffeehouse isn’t for sale, McDavid.”
Her brows pull in, her cheeks filling with the sweetest pink that is distracting as fuck. “Then what are you talking about?” she asks, a little edge to her voice. That edge makes me think she may have a bit of bite in her. A little sass. But with how pretty and sweet she is, I highly doubt it. For some reason, I’m nervous. I don’t want to be rejected; no one does. Surely my offer will convince her to help me out.
“Let me start from the beginning.” She eyes me warily but waits for me to go on. I appreciate her patience, and soon, the words come to me. “I have a chance to play in the NHL.”
She tilts her head. “I thought you already played hockey?”
“The Knoxville Bears are an American Hockey League team. I have a chance to play for the National Hockey League, which is the highest of honors.”
She seems impressed, her brows rising as she nods. “Oh, duh. I knew there was a difference, just didn’t know the terminology.”