Bottles & Blades (Eagles Hockey: Oak Ridge Vineyards #1)

Chapter 35

Thirty-Five

Tiff

“You look cute as a student,” he murmurs, elbows resting on the frame of my open driver’s side window, his body bent so his eyes can hold mine.

It’s Monday morning.

The weekend we spent together was…

Maybe the best couple of days of my life.

Haley had taken Jean-Michel’s directive to heart and started making arrangements. I still felt guilty about him paying—and a little frustrated that he took over—but I can’t deny that it feels as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And when I spoke to my dad, he sounded more at ease than he’s been in ages.

So, I’ve shoved the guilt down.

Pushed it aside.

Maybe I can’t afford to pay Jean-Mi back, dollars for dollars, but I’m going to in other ways.

And those other ways will definitely include orgasms.

Because I fucking love watching him as he comes, as his face softens and his body goes hard and my name tumbles off his lips.

Of course, I’m still winning in the orgasm column—he’s far too generous.

Not that I’m complaining.

I grin up at him. “And you sure can wear a suit.”

His eyes warm. “You’ll be home late tonight?”

I nod. “Probably not until nine. Roxie and I are hanging out until Stefan gets home from coaching. Brit’s on the road with the Gold.”

“Want to come to my house after or me to meet you here?”

He asks that like it’s the most natural consequence of today—that we’ll end it in each other’s arms.

“Your place,” I say. “Don’t you have that long meeting today?”

“Duarte,” he supplies. “Yeah, it’s going to be a doozy. But Marie and the rest of my legal team have it covered. I’m mostly there to glare at them and put my scary billionaire abilities to use.”

I smile, touch his jaw, stroking my fingers through the rough bristles of his beard. “You’re not so scary.”

He bends a bit further, presses his lips to mine. “That’s because I like you.”

My smile widens. “I like you too.”

His phone buzzes, and he leans back enough to pull it from his pocket, glancing at his screen. “So it begins.” His mouth quirks as he pockets it. “And you need to get to class before you’re late.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

A nod and then he steps back.

But just as quickly, he comes near, his eyes coming to mine, his mouth hitching up. “Damn glad I kidnapped you, buttercup.”

“I—”

But he’s gone before I finish that thought, striding to his car, leaving me sputtering in mine.

Luckily, the view of him from behind in that suit is just as good as the one from the front.

Unfortunately, I don’t realize until much later that my distraction of him in that suit means that I’ve missed that someone’s watching me too.

“I hate homework,” Roxie grumbles, dropping her pencil to the side and collapsing onto her math book with an aggrieved sigh.

I set my stack of index cards aside.

I have an oral quiz at the end of the week and a poster assignment (putting my basic Korean to the test) due by Wednesday at midnight.

“I get that,” I say. “It can certainly feel like too much sometimes.” I push my chair back, sidle up to her on the other side of the island. “You know what I do when I’m feeling overwhelmed?”

She lifts her head from her folded arms, nose wrinkled. “No.”

“I make it a game for myself.”

Her face clears, but her brows drag together. “What do you mean, Tiff?”

“I mean, I make it so that it becomes fun.”

“That’s impossible with homework,” she mutters.

I chuckle. “Sometimes, yeah. But other times inspiration strikes,” I say as my eyes catch on the bag near the fridge. I head there, snag the bag of M&Ms. “One piece for every problem you finish.”

“ One? ” She scowls.

This girl.

I bite back more laughter and modify my previous statement.

“ Two for every problem you finish.”

“Okay,” she chirps, and this time I can’t help but laugh.

So much spirit in this one. I hope that never changes.

“All right then”—I toss the bag of candy between us and settle back into my chair—“get going, kid.”

“Tiff?” she asks after she’s earned ten M&Ms.

“Yeah, Queen Rox?”

She giggles. “How many M&Ms do I get when I finish all of the problems?”

I still, glance up from my notes, mouth curving. “The rest of the bag.”

She whoops, that pencil moves faster, and before too long, she’s earned the rest.

“What about you?” she asks as she chomps down on the candy.

“What do you mean, kiddo?”

“What’s your reward?”

I think about rough fingertips and strong arms, the bristles of a beard between my legs and a solid body pressing me into the mattress. “I’ll come up with something,” I tell her, thighs squeezing together. I shift on my seat, trying to ease the ache that comes every time my mind drifts to Jean-Mi.

“Gummy worms?”

I grin. “Those are your favorite, baby girl.”

“I’m not a baby.”

I ruffle her hair. “No, you’re not.”

Suitably mollified, she asks, “What’s your favorite?”

“These.”

We both turn to see Stefan walking into the room, and I know that he speaks the truth as he holds up a bag of miniature peanut butter cups.

Chocolate and peanut butter.

My kryptonite.

Roxie hops off her stool and runs to her dad, throwing her arms around him. Then she snags the bag and holds it up. “Is Dad right?”

“He sure is.”

She skips over, tearing the top off the bag and carefully counting out ten.

“Why ten?” I ask.

“One per card,” she says matter-of-factly before turning to her dad. “We’re rewarding ourselves for doing our homework.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” he says, ruffling her hair and snagging the bag back. “But I think you’ve probably had enough rewards for tonight. It’s time for bed.”

“It’s not that late.”

“Off to bed, munchkin,” he says, ignoring the puppy dog eyes she throws his way as he kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.”

“Aw, man.”

“It’s too late for protests, baby. Save them for another time.”

She scowls.

“Say bye to Tiff and I’ll be up in a minute.”

I get a hug, a soft “’night.”

And then she’s zipping into the hall and tramping up the stairs.

I start gathering my stuff, but I’m also waiting—because I can feel that Stefan has something to say.

And he doesn’t make me wait long.

“You still seeing that man who’s too old for you?”

Sighing, I shrug on my backpack, lean a hip against the counter, and lift my brows. “Yes, I am still seeing Jean-Michel.” I hold his gaze. “He’s a good man.”

“He’s too old,” he mutters.

“Stefan,” I say gently. “I know that you’re protective, but I need you to be happy for me in this.”

He scowls, and it’s so much like Roxie’s expression from a moment before that I have to bite back my smile. “That’s what Brit says.”

“I like him, Stefan. More than I thought possible.” I give him the truth because he’s taken my back, helped me through dark times, same as I helped him. “When I’m with Jean-Michel, it’s like everything makes sense. It’s easy. I can be myself and I feel safe and…I’ve lived so many lifetimes already—sick kid, kid with cancer, teenager who looked death in the face, young woman who was lost and scared and alone, woman who found something special with you and Brit, and now…I get to just a woman who’s living the life I want.”

His big chest inflates on a breath, but I go on.

“I’m happy,” I say. “I’m not alone. I know it’s new, know it’s not going to be perfect, that things may not work out in the end, but I also know that if I don’t see this through with Jean-Michel, I will look back and know I missed out on something wonderful.”

He exhales. “Dammit, kid.”

“What?”

“I can see you mean that.”

“I do,” I agree.

“I want to hate him.”

I grin. “I can give you a little more time to do just that if you need.”

He chuckles, tugs at my ponytail. “I can see you mean that too.” Another sigh, his face sobering. “I’m glad you’re happy, kid. Really glad. But,” he adds, nodding to the front door because it’s getting late, “if he hurts you, I will fucking kill him.”

I shake my head. “The way you say that so cheerfully…”

Another chuckle as he walks me out to my car, tugs open the door.

“He owns the Eagles, Tiff,” he says. “That’s bad enough.”

I laugh as I buckle my seatbelt, glancing up at his next words.

“But seriously, sweetheart?—”

His eyes go cold, intense, and my heart pulses.

This teddy bear of a man.

I’m lucky to have him in my life.

Lucky he showed me what a good man can be like, so that I recognized that same goodness in Jean-Michel.

“—if he hurts you, it’s game-fucking-on.”