Page 23 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

The banter flies back and forth, conversation flowing around us. But through it all, I find myself watching Ryder more than listening. I watch the way he laughs with his teammates, the way he includes me in every conversation, the way his hand never leaves mine.

This is what I've been missing.

Not just him, but this feeling of being part of something bigger. Of having someone in my corner who believes in my dreams as much as I do.

As the evening wears on and the crowd gradually thins, I feel a familiar warmth spreading through my body that has nothing to do with the champagne.

It's the heat that comes from watching Ryder's hands gesture as he talks, from catching glimpses of his smile, from remembering exactly what those hands and that mouth can do to me.

The memory of two nights ago hits me like a bolt of lightning. The way he touched me, kissed me, made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. The way we fit together like no time had passed at all.

God, I want him. Right now.

I don't want to go home alone tonight. I don't want to lie in my empty bed thinking about what-ifs and maybes.

I want to celebrate. Really celebrate.

I lean closer to Ryder, my lips brushing his ear as I speak. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he murmurs back, his voice already rougher at the simple contact.

"I have an idea."

"Oh yeah? What kind of idea?"

I let my hand drift to his thigh under the table, just high enough to make his breath catch. "The kind that involves getting the hell out of here and going somewhere quiet."

His eyes darken immediately, that heat instantly sparking between us. "Fuck, Mia. I like this idea already."

"Good." I stand up, tugging him with me. "Because I have a surprise for you."

"Mia—"

"Trust me." I press a quick kiss to his lips, tasting beer and those peanuts I watched him toss into his mouth. "You're going to love this."

Fifteen minutes and several creative excuses for a quick escape later, we're standing outside the Iron Ridge Spa & Hotel. It's the fanciest place in town, all stone and timber architecture with warm light spilling from every window.

"Mia," Ryder says slowly, staring up at the building. "What are we doing here?"

"Well," I pull out my phone, showing him the confirmation email I booked while he was saying goodbye to the team. "I thought it was my turn to do something special. Something for you."

His eyes widen as he reads the screen. "You booked us a room? Here?!"

"The honeymoon suite, actually." I grin at his shocked expression. "Because apparently I have champagne-fueled decision-making skills tonight."

"The honeymoon suite ?" His voice cracks just like it used to back in the day, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, babe. Complete with jacuzzi, fireplace, and chocolate-covered strawberries." I step closer, letting my breasts brush against his chest. "Consider it my way of saying thank you. For tonight. For everything."

Ryder's hands find my waist, pulling me closer as snow falls around us. "Mia, you don't have to thank me for—"

"I know I don't have to." I reach up to trace the line of his jaw, loving the way his eyes flutter closed at the contact. "I just… want you ."

I trail my fingers down his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my touch. My hand drifts lower, slowly, deliberately, until I'm cupping his crotch through his jeans.

He's already hard, straining against the fabric, wanting me as much as I want him.

" Mmmm … Are you ready?"

"Jesus," he breathes. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Oh, I'm just getting started." I lean up to whisper in his ear, letting my lips brush the sensitive skin just below, giving his cock another squeeze. "I might even wear those little black panties you used to love so much."

The sound he makes is somewhere between a groan and a grimace, and when he looks at me again, his eyes are darker than they were the other night.

"Those panties," he says, his voice rough with desire. "The lacy ones with the—"

"Yep." I pop my lips. "The golden heart. Those are the ones."

"Christ, Mia." His hands tighten on my waist. "How are you even more perfect than I remembered?"

I laugh, pulling back to look at him. This gorgeous, wonderful man who's somehow mine again.

"Come on, let's go check in before—"

"Wait." He stops me with a grin that's pure mischief. "Those panties. The black lacy ones you're talking about. How old are those exactly?"

I freeze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," his grin widens, "we're talking about lingerie from eight years ago, babe. That's like... vintage underwear at this point."

Heat floods my cheeks. "Oh my God. Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he continues, clearly enjoying my embarrassment, "if you still have underwear from high school, maybe we should discuss your questionable shopping habits along with your champagne-induced decision-making skills."

"Ryder Scott," I narrow my eyes at him, "do you want to get lucky tonight or not?"

"Oh, I definitely want to get lucky tonight." He pretends to zip his lips but the smirk on his face still manages to escape.

I smack his chest. "For the record, I bought new ones. Last week. Just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

"Just in case you managed to charm your way back into my bed."

His smile is pure male satisfaction. "Best investment you ever made."

"We'll see about that," I tease, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hotel entrance. "Come on, hotshot. Let's go find out just how lucky you're going to get."