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Chapter Twenty-Two

PAYTON

I think I’m getting through to Lily—that moment at the otter display…such a little thing. Yet I never expected she’d wind up so moved by a few furry animals frolicking in the water—moved to tears she didn’t want me to see.

But I did see. I witnessed a side of her today that makes me ache to embrace her, to hold her close and whisper reassuring words in her ear about how I’ve completely fallen for her and want her in my life.

But she’s like a skittish wild animal, ready to flee if I approach too fast. Or flip me like a pancake, like she did in her hotel room.

I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, so trust me when I say I’m fully out of my element, and I’m sensing she’s out of hers, too.

However, I’m still determined to break through Lily’s tough exterior and see the woman inside.

I suspect her years in the foster system taught her to keep the truest part of herself hidden, which breaks my heart and solidifies my conviction to reach hers all at once.

I glance toward her bedroom door from the kitchen, where I’m prepping dinner. When we returned from the aquarium, she retreated to her room, using those blasted reports as an excuse again. Either she’s still avoiding me, or I’m going to have to berate my sister for being such a taskmaster.

Finally, and with perfect timing, Lily emerges from her room. I have dinner prepared—a simple fare we can eat in front of the telly because I have one more surprise planned for her today.

She strolls over to the kitchen. “We could have just ordered pizza.”

I sprinkle a handful of cilantro on the chicken and rice bowls I threw together. “This is also easy, yet healthier.”

“How could I forget? Mr. Hockey Player must keep himself in excellent shape.” She eyes me appreciatively. Am I picking up a flirtatious tone to her words?

I ease my smile up on one side. “Flattery will get you everywhere, luv.”

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you.” She backpedals in the most delightful way.

“You implied it, then.”

“I did not.” She takes the bowl I offer her and sits at the counter.

Enjoying her flustered expression, I head toward the living room. “I thought we’d eat in here tonight and watch something on the telly.”

“Did you forget that I’m not really into watching television?”

“Not at all. This is more like a series of clips than a program.”

She joins me on the couch. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

I turn on the telly, which I left paused on a compilation of cat videos and press play.

At first, Lily says nothing. She’s not eating either. Just stares at the first video of a kitten hissing at a cucumber with its back arched and fur standing on end.

But then she swivels her head and studies me. “What are you doing, Payton? ”

I swallow the bite of chicken I was chewing. “I must say, these came out rather well. The Mexican cheese makes all the difference.”

“Payton.”

“Yes, luv?”

She puts her bowl on the coffee table, takes a controlled breath, and dons the expression she wears when she means business.

“This isn’t real. Any day now, your sister will let us know they’ve closed your cousin’s case and determined his death was an accident.

At which point, I will go back to England.

You can tell your friends we didn’t work out, or I changed my mind and wanted to go home, or that you realized you made a mistake and sent me off. Whichever story works.”

“Can a case ever be truly settled without a body?” I can tell I’m pushing her to the limit by the way she tenses her mouth as if she’s holding something back.

She lets out a long breath as she looks away. “That’s a reality you just may have to accept.”

“Agreed, but that doesn’t help me feel any safer.

” I’m risking my manhood here, sounding so pathetic, but the only way I know how to appeal to her is through her role as my bodyguard.

“And considering the threat Jennings could pose, now that he knows who I am, I find myself in need of protection. Possibly indefinitely.”

She visibly bristles. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what, luv?”

“Will you stop calling me that?!”

“What? Luv? We Brits do it all the time.”

“Yes, it’s annoying.”

“Oh, then pardon me. What would you prefer I call you instead?”

“Nothing. I mean, my name is fine.” She wags her hands at me. “Don’t do that!”

“Do what, lu—Lily?” I cock my smile at her just so and am rewarded with a blush.

She grabs her dinner again and drops back against the cushions with a harrumph. “Start the video.”

Without a word, I press the button on the remote. The next one plays—a calico cat named Chloe who holds her owner’s head with her paws like a hug and rubs her nose on his while purring like a car engine.

I chuckle. “I think she’s besotted.”

Call me a romantic for hoping Lily is, too. With me. Not the bloke in the video.

She shoots me a cutting glance, but I don’t miss the smile playing on her lips. “Shut up and eat.”

The cat videos last longer than our dinner, which pleases me to no end because Lily stays for the entire run instead of retreating to her room again.

At times, she even seems to relax and lets herself laugh at the feline antics.

When she tugged her ponytail loose, it was all I could do not to reach out and sift my hand through her hair to feel the silk-like strands falling around her shoulders.

Afterward, she kept true to her word about cleaning up since I cooked and started rinsing and loading the dishwasher.

I, of course, join her to help. Not out of any altruistic motivation because mine is far from selfless. The more time I have with Lily, the better my chances of winning her heart. Even if it’s simply the act of washing up together.

“I can take care of this.” She loads the bowl I just rinsed.

“I don’t mind helping.”

“I don’t need your help,” she says in a clipped tone.

I hand her the other bowl. “Right. Then what if I want to help?”

She darts guarded eyes at me. “It’s your kitchen. You can do what you want .”

Our conversation continues without words but with meaningful glances as we work in tandem like a couple operating in a familiar rhythm.

My chest tightens again with a longing for something more with her, that this could be our normal routine and thoughts of what might come after cause that ache to run even deeper.

I think my love and desire for Lily intensify daily.

Per her usual, she heads toward her bedroom after we finish washing up, but I follow her. And like before, she pauses at her door and turns around, striking me speechless with her beauty.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Are we doing this again?”

“Doing what? Making sure you get to your door safely?”

“Yes.” Voice soft, her hazel eyes dance with questions and that same vulnerability I glimpsed at the aquarium makes an appearance. Is she about to let me in just a little more?

Of course, I mean the metaphorical kind. I wouldn’t dream or expect her to invite me into her bedroom. But this feels like she’s on the verge of letting me catch a glimpse of the real Lily, who protects her heart as fiercely as she safeguards her clients.

My insides erupt like our fans when we make a goal. Score one for team Payton? “Consider it part of my royal duty.”

The light in her eyes dims with the return of her earlier wariness. “I can take care of myself, Payton.”

She’s trying to hide again. Was it something I said, or is she afraid of the feelings I’m working so hard to stir in her?

“Never doubted you could.” I take a step closer. “You don’t like asking for help, do you?”

“I don’t like needing help. There’s a difference.”

“Everyone needs help once in a while.” And another step.

She lowers her arms. “I’m not everybody.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” My last step leaves less than a foot of space between us.

A strand of her hair slips forward, tickling the edge of her eye.

I reach toward her face. “May I?”

Her eyes dart back and forth as she studies me. Just when I think she’s about to turn tail and run, she nods.

Keeping my movements slow yet obvious, I brush the hair from her face. She stiffens at first, then relaxes as I rub my thumb across her cheek.

She backs up to the door, but I follow her, careful to keep my touch gentle as I cup her face.

My next move is a very calculated risk, but I’m willing to take it. I lean toward her, bringing my face close to hers. “You are the most captivating woman I have ever met, Lily Evans.”

I’m close enough to kiss her. And I want to—so much—but I can’t rush this. Otherwise, the hidden Lily I’m discovering might bolt like a wild animal, fleeing into the shadows. I press my lips against her forehead, relishing the softness and warmth of her smooth skin and the musky scent of her hair.

When I step back, she blinks at me. “Good night, Lily.”

“Good night, Payton.” She sounds tentative…

unsure, which kills me, but I’m not giving up on my plan.

I just need a little more time to convince her this thing between us is worth fighting for.

Tomorrow morning, we head to North Florida for an away game, which means I won’t see much of her for a couple of days.

So I wait until she closes her door, memorizing her allure before retreating to my room, cognizant that thoughts of Lily—her silky warmth and sultry scent—will keep me up all night.

We’re barely holding our own against the Icemen tonight, and I know it’s because of me.

At the end of the second period, I missed a pass because I lost focus.

The opposing team took advantage of my blunder and scored.

Now we’re tied, and I’m feeling scattered as I rip the tattered tape off my stick.

All I can think about is Lily. Even though she and her gal- pal Del are watching from the shadows, probably disguised, I kept searching the fans for her familiar face.

I reach behind me and grab my phone from the cubby assigned to me in the guest locker room, intending to send her a text, but there’s already one there.

From her.

Lily: Quit letting the other team fluster you. You lose focus when that happens.

For the first time all evening, I grin. She noticed I wasn’t focused. I heart her message and send a thumbs-up emoji, but what I’d rather reply is that I’d focus better if I could see her here, wearing my jersey.

But that would be a lie. She’d wind up a bigger distraction than just my thoughts of her. Even as I inhale the sweat-laden stink of the locker room, I remember the scent of her hair and the feel of her cheek against my hand.

I’m realizing I not only want Lily but need her , too. The thought of her going back to England and not seeing her guts me. Am I a horrible person to hope the investigation into my cousin’s presumed death continues indefinitely?

Luke sits on the bench next to me and hands me the tape to redo my stick. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“You seem off tonight, Pay. Everything okay?” He rests his arms on his knees, head turned toward me, waiting for an answer.

I clench my jaw. “Just a little distracted.”

Elias stands nearby. “Just a little? That’s an understatement, man. You’re playing like a rookie.”

The other guys’ expressions confirm it. Not in a judgy way but out of concern, and I feel like an absolute git to have let them down. “Sorry, mates. I’ll do better next period.”

They nod their understanding and reassurance. After darting a concerned look at Luke, Ethan squeezes my shoulder. “We’re here for you, bro.”

Something passed between them I’m clearly not privy to. I shoot Luke a questioning glance.

He leans his head in closer. “Everything okay at home, Pay?”

“Right as rain. Why do you ask?” I finish taping my stick.

Appearing uncomfortable, he roughs a hand over his mouth. “Just checking. Sophie seems to think you and Lily might be having some trouble.”

I recall the conversation Lily relayed to me about her unexpected encounter with Sophie and Luke walking out of her bedroom the night of the spaghetti dinner. “Adjusting to married life, but we’re sorting it out.”

Sounds believable to me. Hopefully, Luke will think so too and tell Sophie there’s nothing to worry about.

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But you know we’ve got your back, right?”

Would they still if they knew the truth? That I not only lied about who Lily is, but also about who I am?

The temptation to tell them the truth builds again. But if I do that, Lily won’t need to pretend she’s my wife anymore, and knowing her, she’d put even more distance between us. The longer I can keep this charade going, the greater my chances of winning her heart.

“I appreciate that more than you know.”

Luke bounces a fist on my knee, then gets to his feet. “Good. Now get your head back in the game.”

Which I do. And we win by two points. All seems well in my world. For the moment, at least. But lies have a way of turning into a ticking time bomb, and this one is getting louder by the minute.