Page 49 of Defensive Desire

"I, uh, had other ideas. But go on…" Logan’s brow furrows in that way that means he’s thinking hard. “Story time? Kids?”

I nod.

“Yeah! We could set up a corner with cozy seating, do readings of stories and serve hot chocolate with marshmallows. Parents could tour the arena while the kids hang out with us like it's a small bookshop.”

His lips twitch, like he’s fighting back a smile. “You want me to read to kids?”

I bite my lip, suddenly unsure. “You don’t have to. I just thought... you know, after seeing how good you were with Ben and Maddie. Plus, seeing the big, scary defenseman showing his soft side? People would eat that up.”

He huffs out a laugh, his hand finding my waist again. “You really think that’d work?”

“Yes!” I blurt out a little too loudly. “I mean, it could. Especially if we tie it into the coffee shop. Like, hockey-themed snacks and drinks. Maybe little mini Icehawk jerseys as giveaways for the kids.”

Logan’s hand slides up to cup the side of my neck, his thumb tracing just under my jaw. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

My face warms, and I can’t help the shy smile that pulls at my lips.

“It’s just an idea.”

“It’s a brilliant idea.”

His voice is low, deep and sexy. And the way he’s looking at me makes my stomach flutter.

The ladder in the sports romance section wobbles as a customer knocks into it, and Logan’s attention shifts.

I clear my throat, heading over to fix it. He follows, steadying the base while I climb up to adjust the display of signed Icehawk pucks on the top shelf.

“Careful up there,” he murmurs, his hands lightly holding the ladder steady.

I glance down, and my breath catches when I see his eyes fixed on me—not just on me, but on the curve of my ass.

His pupils are blown wide, practically glowing with hunger. The sight sends a hot shiver straight through me.

“Logan,” I whisper, heart pounding.

“Yeah?” His voice is rough, almost feral, like he’s holding himself back by a thread.

His fingers brush against my calf, just enough to make my skin tingle.

I swallow, slowly starting to climb down, completely aware of the way his gaze tracks every inch of me.

When I’m on the last step, his hands slide up, catching my hips, his grip just firm enough to make me feel trapped in the best possible way.

I don’t dare breathe, caught in the heat of his stare. One of his hands tightens on my waist, and I swear I can feel the possessive energy radiating off him.

“Emma...” he breathes, voice low and dangerous, like he’s two seconds from snapping.

And God, I kind of want him to.

His fingers linger, tracing little patterns through the fabric of my shirt, and I feel my breath catch.

For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. His mouth is just a breath away, his hands warm and steady against my waist.

But the bell over the door rings, breaking the moment, and Mrs. Henderson bustles in, her knit scarf trailing behind her.

“Oh! Emma, dear! I need some romance novel recommendations for my book club tonight!”

Logan pulls back with a low growl, running a hand through his hair. I can’t help the little laugh that escapes me.