Page 30 of Rebel Secrets (Devils Hockey #3)

“Apparently, my daughter owns several businesses in town, and my father owns a newspaper. I think that’s enough reason to make a detour on my way to Chicago for a board meeting.”

I let out a sigh of relief, careful not to let her hear me.

“So, you’ll only be here a few hours?”

“Yes, dear. Don’t worry. I don’t plan to interrupt your day for more than that.”

There was an edge in my mom’s voice, and I could tell I’d finally pissed her off.

“I’m sorry, of course I’ll be happy to see you. I’ve just got a lot on my plate next week. The bakery is doing the lunches for the hockey camp, and we’ve got to prepare for book club, and I’ve got another event next weekend that I need to work ahead on.”

Her mom paused. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”

The snarky voice in my head wanted me to ask her what she thought I did here.

Did she think I just played at being a business owner?

That I didn’t bust my ass to make everything work?

That I was like my brother’s revolving door of girlfriends, who played at having jobs when really, they lived off their parents’ money and constantly traveled?

Ooh, that was bitchy. But true.

“I do. But of course, I’ll have time to spend with you while you’re here.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

My heart leaped into my throat. When my mom said she wanted to discuss something, my anxiety spiked. I hated that she made me feel like this, but it’d been happening since I was a kid, and I hadn’t managed to control it yet. Not sure I ever would.

“Sure, Mom. I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll text you my details. Talk to you soon. Love you.”

The call disconnected, and I took a deep breath and then another one, trying to get my heart back into a natural rhythm. I opened the door and walked inside, heading for the room where Rebel had told me to meet him.

I knew my way around the arena, having been friends with Erin for years.

My feet headed in the right direction, my brain still chewing over my mother’s impending visit, even though I kept trying to change my focus.

My therapist had given me some tools to make sure I didn’t fall down the rabbit hole, but I still couldn’t catch my breath when I reached my destination.

Until I saw Rebel, leaning against a well-worn wooden table, scanning a sheet of paper in his hands. He hadn’t seen me yet and turned away to pick up another paper from the table. I could see his profile now, and my heart beat in a different rhythm, one that came with heat low in my body.

My mother’s call drifted out of my head, replaced by images from that night. That night I’d been dreaming about every night since. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it’d been a moment out of time, a blip in his life that he wanted to put behind him.

Of course, I should probably want the same thing.

To just move on and mark it down to too much really good alcohol.

But I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be true. No, I’d had just enough.

I’d had the best freaking night of my life in bed with a man who, up until a couple of weeks ago had seemed to hate me.

No, that was too strong. He just really, really didn’t like me.

His head lifted and our gazes connected. And for a second, I thought I saw heat in his eyes. Heat for me. My body answered with a wave of achy longing that made me want to hug myself tight.

“Hey. Sorry.” He blinked and the heat was gone. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. If you’re busy, I can?—”

“No, come in.” He waved me into the room. “I’m just going over the daily schedules.”

I sat in one of the chairs at the table, trying to get comfortable and not squirm. “Looks like you’re not impressed.”

He took one of the chairs opposite me, leaning back a little, hands spread out on the table in front of him. I couldn’t help myself. I had to look, remembering where those hands had been and what they’d done to me. It was all I could do to drag my gaze away and aim it over his shoulder.

“They’re good. I want to make them better.”

Wait, what were we talking about? Oh, hockey camp. That’s why I was here. Not to stare at his hands. Or want to sink my fingers in his thick dark hair. I blinked and redirected my gaze to his shoulder.

“I’m sure the kids will love whatever you come up with.”

I absolutely believed that. Rebel was nothing if not dedicated to the game. He loved it. You could see it when he played. He put his whole heart and soul into it.

“What’s wrong?”

The question came out of the blue, leaving me scrambling to catch up. “What? Nothing.”

His gaze narrowed. “Did something happen?”

Jeez, was it written on my face that my mom’s call had flustered the hell out of me?

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.” I think I might have grimaced. “I mean, my mom called to tell me she’s visiting next week but…”

“Does she do that often?”

He had to know she didn’t. Then again, he didn’t really know me.

Except for all the things he’d learned about me the night we’d spent together.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Do you want to see her?”

Did he really want to know the answer to that question or was he just making small talk? His expression gave me absolutely no clues to what he was thinking. But he’d asked the question so…

I shrugged. “I have a lot on my plate next week. Including the players’ lunches. Do you want to go over the menus?”

That seemed like a safe discussion, one that wasn’t so…personal.

“Your plate always seems a little too full.”

Did he actually sound concerned?

Now I did squirm, just a little. “I like to keep busy.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are we going to talk about what happened after the reception or are we just going to keep ignoring that it happened?”

Now my jaw dropped. Holy hell, that had come out of the blue.

I almost couldn’t believe he’d said anything at all. I honestly thought he’d want to forget it happened.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His chin lifted slightly. “I think we probably should, yeah.”

“I’m not sure what we have to talk about. I mean, we both know what happened. We probably both had a little too much to drink and?—”

“I wasn’t drunk. Not by a longshot.”

Oh. “Umm…”

So that meant…what?

“Were you?” he asked.

Should I lie? That didn’t seem fair, not when he seemed to be laying it all out there for me to see.

“No. I mean…” I sighed. “No, I wasn’t.”

I’d known exactly what I was doing. And exactly who I was doing. And I’ d enjoyed every damn minute of it.

He nodded, like he’d known what I was going to say before I said it. And he probably had.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do we do now?”

He spoke calmly and enunciated every word clearly, and my heart thumped a little faster. It almost seemed?—

No, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, where do we go from here? Do you want us to go back to our respective corners and pretend it never happened?”

It sounded brutal when he said it that way, and my stomach immediately dropped at the thought. Is that what he wanted?

“Or do you want to see how much better we could be now?”

My stomach hollowed out, just before a fierce desire fired through my blood. I wanted that second option. His words hung between us like a promise.

“What do you want, Rebel?”

“I asked you first.”

His response made me laugh. I knew he was joking. His face gave nothing away, but I heard it in his voice. I don’t know how, but I just knew it was there.

His lips twitched, but the intensity in his eyes deepened, drawing me in. I almost felt a physical pull toward him. What would he do if I climbed on top of the table and slid into his lap? Would I shock him?

Hell, I’d shock myself. But I still wanted to do it.

I took a breath, my gaze holding his. After a lingering pause, he stood. I followed his every move as he walked around the table. Closer to me. His body loomed over me, and my mouth dried. My hands gripped the chair arms, making a conscious effort to remain seated.

Part of me wondered if this was actually going to happen. Were we?—

Yep, we were.

He reached for me, hands on my shoulders pulling me to my feet so he could kiss me. And when I mean kiss, I mean he kissed me with so much force, I had to reach for his shoulders and hold on.

I swore I felt every inch of his desire like a physical presence wrapped around me. I also felt the hard imprint of his erection against my stomach. His track pants hid absolutely nothing, and he was so very hard.

I lifted my hips into him, rubbing against that ridge, my own need getting more demanding. Every day since the wedding, it’d been growing, like a hungry little pit in my stomach. I'd tried to ignore it, but it just kept growing. And now he’d let it out of its cage.

I kissed him back with just as much passion, adding fuel to his fire.

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifted me off my feet and turned to set me on the table, not pausing our kiss for a second. I was impressed by his dexterity just before my hormones took over again and demanded more.

My hands slid down his back and under his shirt, seeking and finding warm skin beneath. That warmth seeped into my skin, shooting tingles up my arms and straight to my nipples and lower.

Every erogenous zone of my body said “Yes, more, please.”

And because I thought Rebel could read my mind, he slid his hands from my hips up my sides and cupped my breasts. I moaned into his mouth, my hands sinking into his back, nails probably leaving marks.

He groaned, a rumble in his chest that made me yearn to feel even more of his skin against mine. His head tilted, deepening the kiss as his tongue teased mine. And then it was no longer teasing but demanding. I was willing to give him anything he wanted right now.

I was willing to let him take me right here on the table. Or up against the wall. Honestly, I didn’t care so long as he filled this growing ache.