Page 15

Gabby

“ N o, sorry. I don’t need…”

What the heck?

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, convinced I’m hallucinating.

There’s no way I’m actually seeing Helen Roper tiptoeing out of the bedroom.

Yeah, I must still be dreaming. Although why my subconscious would conjure up a character from that old seventies sitcom is beyond me.

Maybe because that’s what my life has suddenly become.

But then Mrs. Roper turns around, and she’s wearing…

Roman’s face, I pinch my eyes shut. Did room service spike my coffee?

“Hey.” Roman’s voice pulls my eyes open. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Roman.” I inch up, blinking hard. My jaw drops when he sits next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. “What are you wearing?”

“There’s a Mrs. Roper convention.”

“You, uh…signed up?”

“No, Gabs.” He stands, spins and strikes a runway pose in the hideous house dress, complete with big orange flowers. “This is your disguise so you can join me on the rooftop.”

I stare at him, my sleepy mind racing, trying to make sense out of this. “You want me to wear that?” He nods. “Wait, why are you wearing it?”

“I thought I’d try it out. To see if anyone recognized me.”

“Did they?”

“Nope.”

“Or maybe they did…” I wave my hand up and down the floral disaster clinging to his very male frame. “…and they were too horrified to say anything.” He laughs and moonwalks across the floor like that somehow improves the situation. I shake my head. “You have no shame.”

“None.” His dimples pop, and yeah, there go my ovaries.

I stare at him, incredulous. “You really think I’m leaving the room in that?”

“Of course.”

“You know.” I cup my elbow in my palm and tap my chin. “I’m beginning to believe you like dressing up. I think you offered a couple times to wear my wedding dress.”

“I offered once. The second time you wanted me to wear it so you could cut it up. So really, I think it might be you who likes me dressing up.”

I laugh. “Yeah, that must be it.”

He gestures towards the other room where my dress is laid out. “I like what you did with it. It’s definitely more you.”

I nod, but honestly though he might have known Gabby from high school, I’m a different version of myself now. I’m not even sure that’s a good thing.

“This is what you and Rip did with your time on the strip?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. What do you think, really though? It’ll get you out of the room tonight.” He sits next to me again, his hand on my leg. “I’d love to celebrate New Year’s Eve with you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Okay, I’ll stay in with you then.”

“No. You’re not doing that.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Fine then. You have no choice but to wear this and watch the fireworks with me.”

“Ohmigod, you just played me. You knew I wouldn’t allow that.” I bow my head. “I am so easy.”

“Nah, you’re not easy. You’re kind and there is a difference. But I get it. If you don’t want to take a chance, you don’t have to go.” He tugs the wig off and scratches his head. “Maybe this was a stupid idea.”

My heart pinches tight. This was actually so incredibly sweet of him, and thoughts of watching the fireworks with him sounds really amazing. “Let me try it on.”

His eyes go wide with hope as he cocks his head and grins, those damn adorable dimples on full display. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hand it over.” He tugs the dress off, still in his dress clothes underneath. My fingers grip the hem of my T-shirt, and his gaze follows the movement like he’s tracking a puck.

“Um, can you turn around?”

He arches a brow. “Really, Gabs? I’ve seen you naked.”

“This is different.” It’s not, but in the light of day it somehow feels different.

A beat and then, “Sure.” He gestures with a nod to the living room.

“I brought back pastries if you’re hungry.

Come model it for me when you’re done.” He disappears into the other room, and I hurry out of the T-shirt and into the one-size-fits-all—including big hockey players—house gown, or whatever it is they call it.

I chuckle at my reflection, topping it off with the wig before stepping into the other room.

Roman is sitting on the sofa, long legs stretched out, looking comfortable and way too hot.

I prance across the room, my damn legs weak under his heated gaze.

“I like what I see.” He cracks a water bottle, his eyes darkening with something that makes my stomach flutter.

I laugh and roll my eyes. “If my grandmother could see me now.”

“She’s a Roper fan, too? Or will she think you lost your mind in Vegas?”

“Yes to both, and I’m happy to know that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Except me. I’m not staying in Vegas. I’m going to Boston. Holy. It’s crazy how life can change in a breath.

He crooks his finger. “Get your sweet ass over here.”

“If you try to seduce me in this, Roman, there’s going to be a lot of questions.” He laughs out loud and it’s so contagious I join him as I step toward him.

His grin is pure mischief. “Ooh, an interrogation. Does it involve a strip search?” I laugh, loving this man’s playfulness.

“No,” I shoot back.

“Fine,” he grumps, wagging his brows. “But here’s the answer anyway.” His gaze darkens as I step even closer. “I like it because…” His hand slides up my leg, slow and sure. “It gives me easy access.”

A hard shiver goes through me. But then his gaze sweeps over me again, thoughtful this time. With a flicker of worry lacing his voice he says, “I think we can pull this off.”

Is he trying to convince himself?

“I’m sure we can,” I reassure him. “No one is going to recognize me in this. Not even…” As I let my words fall off, his face tightens, a fast breath expanding his chest.

“What?”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, his eyes locking with mine. “I saw him.”

He doesn’t need to say who he saw. I can hear the disdain in his tone.

“How did you know?”

“You said his name last night and when we were at lunch, some girls getting autographs noticed him and ran over to meet him.”

I look down, my heart suddenly in my throat as tears threaten. Roman stands and pulls me to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I mentioned that. Maybe just to let you know I think he’s still searching for you.”

I suck in a sharp breath, a knot tightening in my chest. Were words exchanged? Did he do something that he can only regret later. “Did you say anything to him?”

His jaw hardens. “I wanted to, with my fist.”

“Roman,” I breathe out my heart racing.

“Don’t worry. Rip stopped me.”

“Rip knows who he is too, then.”

“I started toward him. Rip clearly put two and two together. I didn’t come right out and tell him what happened, Gabs.

He also knows it’s you. He caught a glimpse of you last night.

” I stiffen, and he runs his hands up and down my arms. “He’s not going to say anything.

He was actually very worried about you.”

“That’s kind of him.” Roman gaze shifts, like Rip said more than he’s letting on. “Roman?”

“You and me.” He waves his finger back and forth between the two of us. “This is just…ah…”

“A friend helping a friend,” I say, clearly putting two and two together as well. I cock my head and offer, “Not revenge, but a rebound with benefits?”

He laughs. “Perfect.” He seems pleased with that response, pleased to know that I don’t think this is anything more than that.

And I don’t. “Let’s sit.” He pulls me onto the sofa, and hands me a throw pillow to get comfortable.

“I don’t have a lot of time before I have to get dressed and head down.

But before I leave, how about a cup of coffee and we finish the movie from last night? ”

“Oh God.” I briefly close my eyes, practically vibrating at the thoughts of caffeine. “Yes. Please.”

“Jesus, can you not.”

I laugh realizing how sexual that sounded.

He shakes his head at me, amused. “Get changed. I’ll make us some coffee and we can finish what we started.” His shoulders stiffen as he sucks in air. “The movie, I mean.”

I’m not the only one stumbling over my words today.

“Roman?” I ask, my gaze on his perfectly tight backside when he heads toward the coffee maker.

He glances at me over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Back in Boston.” I frown and take the wig off. “Your friends. Your fellow players. What are we going to tell them?”

He shrugs and searches through the pods. “We’ll tell them whatever you want.”

I arch a brow. “That I’m an old friend and you’re helping me out?”

“Reasonable.”

“Believable?”

His mouth quirks as he glances at me again.

“My friends aren’t going to ask questions, Gabby.

Not too many anyway,” he adds with a smirk.

“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want.

You can keep a low profile until you figure out your next move.

” He puts a pod into the machine, and turns, leaning against the counter.

“I think the WAGs, though. They’re smart women with connections.

Maybe one of them can help you out.” His lips tug into a playful smile.

“No one has to know I’m your rebound with benefits. Until you’re back on your feet.”

I chuckle at that then under my breath murmur, “Yeah, maybe.” What would they think if they knew I ran the night before my wedding? I’m definitely not telling anyone what I walked in on. That’s a whole different level of humiliation.

As he waits for the coffee to finish, I slip back into the bedroom, pull off the dress and tug on his T-shirt. When I return and drop onto the sofa, I say, “Tell me about the players and their families.”

He grabs a packet of sugar and shakes it. “Brighton, Noah’s wife, runs a resort. They have two kids. Melanie, Brady’s wife, is a therapist.” He taps his temple. “She can get in here without you even knowing.”

A mock shiver rolls through me, and I hug myself. “Maybe I’ll steer clear of her.”

He laughs. “Nah, she’s one of the good ones. Dani is Conner’s wife. They have twins and she runs a doggy daycare.”

“That is amazing.”

“Yeah, she even has this big dog bus. It’s pretty cute.

” He comes back with the coffees and sets them on the coffee table.

“Gina is Ash’s wife and she owns our favorite café downtown.

You’re going to love it. They have a daughter, Zoe.

Maeve is Tanner’s wife. They have a daughter, Stella, and she’s the team’s physiotherapist. Then there’s Kalen who’s dating Sahara.

She’s his sister Taylor’s friend. Taylor is at this wedding with Elias. He’s Kalen’s best friend.”

Overwhelmed at all the names and relations, I hold my hand up. “My brain is full.”

“How about your stomach?” He tears open a brown paper bag and my mouth waters at the sight of scones, cinnamon rolls and croissants.

I pick up one of the cinnamon rolls, eyeing the small bite. “Looks like the bakery has a mouse problem.”

He frowns, and shakes his head. “Wow, yeah, I know. Don’t eat that one.” He grabs the other one and hands it over, but I hesitate, staring like it might bite me back.

“You don’t like cinnamon rolls?” He tilts his head.

“There are other things. I just never heard of anyone who didn’t like cinnamon rolls before.

Cinnamon rolls are Gina’s specialty at The Nook.

The team cleans her out every weekend in the off season.

We really shouldn’t be eating them while playing.

” He wags a finger at me. “Don’t tell Coach I’m eating this.

” He pops a piece into his mouth and moans as I crinkle my nose like they’re distasteful.

“You’re kind of a weirdo, Gabs,” he teases with a grin.

“I don’t like them,” I state flatly.

Shrugging, he gives up the fight. “If you don’t like them, you don’t like them.” He’s about to take it from me when I shift it out of his reach.

My eyes widen. “I’m not a monster, Roman. I don’t like them, I love them,” I admit with a sigh, inhaling the sweet aroma. “I just don’t eat them anymore.”

“Why the hell not?”

I swallow. Since meeting Cass there are a lot of things I don’t do anymore. Things like eating sweets, carbs. Having sex that doesn’t seem like a dirty chore for my partner.

God, I am so stupid.

“Gabs.” His voice softens. “Get out of your head. It’s just a cinnamon roll.”

I laugh and my gaze flicks to him. He winks and rubs his stomach. “I need to work this off later. Coach is going to have my ass if I don’t come back in game shape.”

Ripping off a big piece, I toss it into my mouth and moan as the delicious cinnamon taste explodes on my tongue. After I chew, I open my eyes and find Roman watching me, his jaw slack, his eyes dark.

“You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. You moan like that again, and I’m going to have your ass.”

I laugh, the tension leaving my shoulders. This man is good for me.

He grabs the remote and the sound of his throat working as he swallows sends a jolt of heat through me.

This man is looking forward to getting you naked, Gabs.

The truth is…I’m looking forward to that too.

Far too much.

That can’t be a good thing, right?