Page 2

Chapter two

Jessica

W hy am I monosyllabic? I press my lips together and force my eyeballs to get off this man’s impressive length and back up into my own head. My gosh. What a stallion, as my mom’s generation would say.

I clear my throat, which leads to my coughing. Great. Then I square up to him. He won’t impress or intimidate me. After all, I know who this guy is. Anyone who works in the hockey industry would know disgraced former Nashville forward, Eric “Gator” Warren. And he doesn’t know it yet, but I’m his lawyer. Or, one of them.

We stare at each other for a long, awkward moment, both processing what the hell just happened. I wave my finger around at his still-naked manhood.

“You mind, uh, taking care of that, please?”

He smirks and doesn’t make a move. “Sounds promising. What kind of ‘taking care of’ did you have in mind?”

“Oh my God, are you twelve? Please. Cover up.” But I can hear the humor in my voice. It makes it hard to be a bossy lady when I am starting to find the whole situation hilarious.

I physically turn my body away from him and look at the beautiful, open living room right off the entryway. The place is huge, much larger than my old apartment.

I hear movement behind me.

“Are you decent yet?” I ask in a bored tone, as if we’re an old married couple and I don’t have the interest in seeing him naked.

“Maybe.”

I laugh. “Smart ass.”

“Yep. That’s me.”

This was supposed to be an empty house, a place for me to focus and clear my head while I started my new job in Denver—a job that Kathy was instrumental in landing for me. Well, actually, it was her daughter and my best friend Laura who conspired to get me a job with the team’s law firm.

“I’m sure they have a hotel nearby…” I suggest.

I’m thinking of all the work I need to get done… in peace and quiet. Fat chance of that when I’ve got a stranger standing in front of me, acting just as surprised and confused as I am.

“Oh, right,” he says innocently. “I can drive you to one, if that’s where you want to stay.” His tone is humorous.

I glance back, disappointed to see him properly clad in the towel. “I thought you’d be a gentleman and offer to leave. Since I’m very sure you’re not supposed to be here.”

“About that,” he pulls out his cell phone, “do you see this address in the text message… the message from a Bill Stanton? Yeah. It’s this house. I’m supposed to be here.”

I huff at him. “Since I’m not a child, I’m not going to play ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’”

His eyes turn mischievous. “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked that game with you.”

I stare at him, but he holds my gaze. Finally, I look away. Damn it. He’s getting to me. In a way, I feel like I know him. I’ve spent the last few weeks buried in paperwork about him to prepare for my new job as a sports attorney, reviewing his contract, ironing out the terms of the trade.

I keep my voice calm. “Let me get this straight, you’re not leaving and I’m not leaving. So, I guess we’ve got a problem then.”

“Yeah, the whole ‘one of us has to leave’ thing is pretty damn awkward.”

I laugh dryly. “You think there’s any choice besides one of us leaving? Get real.”

For a second, neither of us says anything. It’s too late to figure it out right now. It’s late. I had already called Kathy and said that I was on my way to the house, and then I texted Laura. I’d hate to bother them again or create drama all because there’s a mostly nude man standing before me with the most amazing body I have personally laid eyes on… Stop it, Jessica.

I turn my head away and stare blankly at the huge wood-burning fireplace.

“Look, there’s no way I’m calling Kathy, and certainly not her ex-husband Bill, at this hour to clear things up.”

Eric finally breaks his silence, his look triumphant.

I groan. “Stop gloating. It’s weird that you want me to live with you here and not go to a hotel. Don’t you get that?” I am full on pretending that he is a random guy and that I don’t know who he is.

He laughs, a beautiful deep sound that makes my horniness level jump up a few notches. I love men with deep voices. His voice is surprisingly casual. “Look, it’s a big house. There’s plenty of room. Why don’t we just… coexist for a few days until we can sort this out?”

I stare at him, surprised by how nonchalant he sounds. He acts like our being dumped into the same house is no big deal. Like it’s completely normal.

“Coexist?” I echo, not sure whether to laugh or be annoyed. “Well, it’s better than the thought of ‘living’ together.”

“Second time you’ve mentioned that—are you propositioning me, Miss… what was your name?” He puts on a gentlemanly air, which looks ridiculous when he’s just in a towel.

I groan again at his audacity, ignoring his question.

He shrugs, giving me a lopsided grin. “I mean, we don’t have to be best friends or anything. Just stay out of each other’s way. I’ll be out of here as soon as I find my own place.”

I feel a barrage of hope. Maybe this could work, after all, if it were short term. “And when exactly is that?”

He shrugs again. “A week? Maybe two. I’m looking for a sweet penthouse deal in the city, though, so it might take a minute.”

Of course. A penthouse—no, a ‘sweet’ penthouse.

“Must be nice.”

He flashes me that same easy grin, the one that probably gets him out of all sorts of trouble. He is extraordinarily attractive, with sandy hair and hazel eyes. “Perks of my… job, I guess.”

I tense up. I’m not ready to talk about his job or my job yet. How weird would it be if he knew I knew everything about him? That I’m the junior attorney assigned to the grunt work of data gathering to put into his file. At this point, if he ever said it, wrote it, or even thought it… I was the one who found it online and put it in his file. My boss, Jason, is thorough.

The thought of work makes me tired. I need to wrap this up, get to my room, and process everything—or just push it away and focus on my first day at the office tomorrow. I sigh. “Alright, fine. We’ll share the house. Temporarily. And just for now. But I have conditions.”

I glance at his naked torso, hard muscles and beautiful pecs calling out to me. “The first being, you will be fully clothed at all times.”

He smirks. “I see you noticed the ‘ole bod. Shirts required? Done. What else? Lay ’em on me.”

He’s really enjoying this way too much. “Okay, we avoid each other. No invading each other’s space.”

“Those are two conditions, but okay. Deal.”

“And no touching my stuff. Especially not my work.”

He raises both hands in mock surrender, threatening to lose the towel again. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I narrow my eyes, not entirely convinced that this will go smoothly, but I’m too tired to argue any further. It’s late, and I’m not in the mood for a drawn-out debate—nor am I in the mood to keep fighting my attraction to him. I need space to clear my thoughts.

“Good,” I say, clutching my computer sleeve with all my files in it to myself. I lug the suitcase to the bottom of the stairs.

“You picked the main bedroom already, I assume?” I say tersely.

“Nope. Just got here.” He nods to the bags I did not notice in front of the couch. “But I like your assumption. We should just go with it. I can take the main room.”

Coming from anyone else, I would say he’s a cocky guy, but he sells it with the cheeky grin, so it’s hard not to just laugh.

I head toward the kitchen counter to grab a snack. Kathy said she saw to it that there would be food here when I arrived. I open the fridge, scanning the shelves for something quick, my mind already running through the list of things I need to get done tomorrow.

I hear Eric behind me. He’s way too relaxed for someone who just found out he’s sharing a house with a stranger. Or maybe that’s just the kind of guy he is—nothing fazes him.

I grab a yogurt and a granola bar, balancing them in one hand while trying to close the fridge with the other. But as I do, the slim computer bag drops, spilling papers everywhere. Thank goodness for the foam liner that likely just saved my computer.

My cheeks go red. I grab at the papers.

“Damn it,” I mutter, dropping to my knees to pick them up. The last thing I need is for him to see anything work-related, especially given who he is… and who I am.

Before I can stop him, Eric crouches down beside me, reaching for a few of the scattered documents. “Here, let me help.”

“I’ve got it,” I say quickly, trying to snatch the papers back. I try to distract him from the bold letters on the files by saying, “You look like a Greek philosopher in that thing.” I look at the towel.

But it’s too late for distraction. He’s already spotted his name printed in bold across one of the files. Eric Warren.

I hold my breath, watching his expression shift from curiosity to confusion.

“What… what is this?” he asks, holding up the document.

I feel resignation slipping over me, knowing there’s no way out of this now. “It’s part of my job.”

“Your job?” His face is a mask as he flips through the documents—all about him.

I sit back on my heels, stacking the papers into a neat pile. “I wasn’t planning to tell you this right now, but I guess I have no choice.”

Eric stands up slowly, holding the contract out to me like it’s some kind of evidence. “What’s going on?”

I let out a long breath, standing to face him. “I’m a junior attorney on the team that is managing your trade paperwork. It’s not finalized, you know. You’re here and you’ll play for the Avalanche, but the stuff that happened in Nashville is causing us to add several new clauses….” I’m rambling.

I take a breath. “Okay, the truth, put very simply, is that I work for the firm that represents the Avalanche, and I’ve been assigned to finalize your deal.”

He stares at me, clearly processing the information. “ You’re my lawyer?”

I shake my head quickly. “Not exactly. I’m on the team of attorneys representing the team, not you. But yeah, I’m working on your contract and everything that comes with it.”

Eric frowns, still as handsome as ever, his accusatory tone deepening. “Everything that comes with it? What does that mean?”

I sigh again, knowing he’s not going to like this next part. “It means negotiating and arranging the community events, the charity appearances, and more with the PR team and ownership of the team. The team wants to make sure your transition to Colorado goes smoothly. They want to… improve your image.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Improve my image? What, they think I’m a bad guy?”

I don’t respond, because I know he already understands. The whole reason his reputation took a hit in Nashville is exactly why the team wants him to do some public outreach here in Denver.

Eric shakes his head, laughing bitterly. “Great. So now I’m stuck in this house with you, and I have to play nice or else you’ll sabotage my trade deal.”

I meet his gaze with as much calm as I can muster. “Sabotage? Rude.” I look at him pointedly. “Why don’t I just focus on doing my job while you focus on doing yours? We share a roof, but we don’t have to talk to each other or get to know each other.”

We stare at each other for a moment.

Finally, Eric lets out a long breath. “Alright, fine. Sounds like we’re both new here, so the last thing we need is stress after work when we come home. I’ll be out of here soon, anyway, and be in my own place.”

I shrug. “Good.” I gather my things and blindly head down a hallway, turning to throw out over my shoulder, “And my name is Jessica, since you asked earlier.”

A vague, low mumble meets my ears. I smile. I am very certain he is a teddy bear underneath all the snark.

Eric Warren might be cocky, but there’s more to him than meets the eye.

I get the feeling that this arrangement is going to be a lot more complicated than either of us thought.