Chapter 6
JAKE
It’s been a week since the wedding, and I’ve not seen Cara nearly as much as I want to.
We’ve both been busy as hell at work, though I’ve managed to sneak into her office a couple of times on her lunch break, catching her drooling over red-bottomed heels on her phone or, more often, working while she eats.
The way she lights up when I bring her a coffee or a sweet treat always makes my day, though, even if that’s the only time I get to spend with her.
Now, though, I’m having withdrawals from my girl.
“What’s got you grinning like a Cheshire cat?” Jay asks, his shoulder nudging mine before he puts his mouth guard in.
I roll my eyes at him, putting my own mouth guard in to avoid answering.
All I want to do is tell everyone how amazing Cara is and how much I’m falling for her, but we haven’t discussed how to navigate our relationship alongside work, and I don’t want to upset her by bragging about her before she’s ready for me to.
She’s only just started working here, and the last thing I want is to risk her position before we’ve figured everything out.
But it’s damn hard to hide it from the guys, especially when Hugh catches me eye fucking her when she comes in to take videos for content. I nearly catch a puck to the skull because I’m so distracted by her, which makes all the other guys laugh and start ragging on me.
Thank God training is so intense that it forces me into the zone, making time pass relatively quickly, and when I’m sweaty and panting at the end of it, I can’t help but remember all the ways Cara and I were sweaty and panting last weekend.
And now I have to try and hide the fact that my cock’s hard.
Thankfully, the showers are individual stalls, and I manage to calm myself down long enough to clean up and get dressed again, though my thoughts never stray from Cara for longer than a few seconds.
I can’t resist checking my phone as I head out to get ready at my apartment, and thank God there’s a reply from Cara agreeing to our dinner plans. Though she clearly can’t resist teasing me, even over text, because her reply includes:
As long as you save room for dessert *winky face*
Just like that, I’m hard again, and I groan as I slide into my truck and head for home, the minutes between now and when I get to see her again suddenly feel far too long.
Finally, it’s time for our date, and I feel like a teenager going on his first date all over again.
Excitement floods my body as I pull up at the restaurant, once again early. Cara is truly making me a changed man, because I’ve never been early to anything except when I’m meeting her. My mother will be so pleased, I think with a chuckle.
I’m making my way to the host stand, bag with gifts in hand, when I see her. Cara looks edible in a tight black shimmery dress and heels. Her makeup is done just enough to highlight her beauty, with a red lip that I can’t help but imagine messing up. That mouth would look so good around my cock.
“You look…” I trail off as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close, not having enough words to describe how fucking stunning she is.
Cara looks up at me, but doesn't smile. "Mind if we grab a drink first before dinner?"
'Sure, why not?" We head to the bar.
"I'll grab that table over there," Cara says, "and just a Spritz cocktail, please.
"Sure," I stand for a second, a little taken aback by her brusque, business-like attitude.
Definitely, something does not seem entirely hunky dory.
I grab the drinks and join her. We sit for a moment. "Um, busy day, princess?"
She sighs, drums her fingers on her glass, her eyes staring down at the table. "Jake," she starts, "who is Melody?"
I suck in air as if from an aqualung at one hundred meters, and grab for my drink. "Cara. Oh, well, since you mention her name, I suppose you already know the answer to your own question."
"You are aware of my role with the BlueHawks, right?
So, you must know that everyone will be talking to me, right?
Media, teammates, fans, sponsors, wives, and girlfriends.
Christ, even fucking admin and tech support.
So when I start receiving messages all fucking day long telling me about your so-called long-time girlfriend, and according to some, your future wife, Melody, it is reasonable for me to go investigating, right?
" She sucks her top lip in and cocks her head to one side, flashing her eyes up toward me.
"Like, go investigate the actual source and the subject. "
Now I am in that classic situation where what the fuck do I do?
Smile, joke, tell her I can explain, look at her, look away, touch her, look bored, tap my foot.
So, I take a sip of my drink and play dead.
Just exist in front of her. Defocus. The subtle art of being present and not present in the same millisecond.
The epitome of calm. The zen of timing my moment to speak.
"Cara," I begin.
"I'm going to the washroom," she says, grabs her bag, and storms away. That went well. So much for the zen of timing my moment.
Cara finally returns after calming herself and giving me enough time to stew in my discomfort.
Sufficient time to come up with my own explanation, my own honest explanation, or to have built a wonderfully convincing, dishonest story.
She sits, adjusts, and fixes her gaze on mine, ready to scour my every twitch and expression while she analyses each word I am about to utter.
"Melody was my girlfriend." I stop, pick up my drink, and sip. That's it, over and out.
Cara sits wide-eyed, expectant. "And, that's it?"
"Yup."
"So the plane tickets to Paris are—"
"No longer necessary."
"And the hotel bookings—"
"Same." I put my drink down and look squarely at Cara."Yes, of course, I've had other women, Cara. You know all about my reputation. My nicknames are known by everyone in this town and across the country. No secrets there. And yes, I had an affair with Melody Carter."
"A long-term, serious affair from what I have been hearing all day."
"The moment I met you and we agreed to this crazy fake partner weekend, my whole life, my whole world has been turned upside down.
I know I have met the person I want to devote my life to.
That is you, Cara. There is no one else.
There will never be anyone else. My past is exactly that—past. Kaput! Playboy no more, for fuck's sake."
I drink and look directly into her eyes.
Truth be known, my eyes were blinking harder than I've ever known before.
They seem to moisten with each blink, but I put that down to the smoky atmosphere.
After all, I may not be the hockey playboy anymore, but I'm still a fucking beast of a hockey player, and nothing is going to strip that reputation away from me.
And, damn, I have never felt how I feel for Cara with any other woman—any other person—in my life.
The thought that this feeling might slip away has tied my stomach into a tighter knot than before any major game.
A tear spouts from one of Cara's eyes and trickles down her cheek. I lean forward and kiss the tear, then rub it away with my thumb. I whisper, "Are you still hungry?" and she nods."Let's go eat."
I walk her to the host stand. I give my name to the hostess, who checks the books.
I tell her that I made a special booking for Jake and ah, Melody.
I bite my tongue and look down at Cara, and wink.
Only joking with you. You look so beautiful tonight, Cara.
She smiles, elbows me as hard as she can, then leans up to kiss my cheek, undoubtedly leaving a red mark.
I don’t wipe it off, happy to be marked as hers.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she says with a wink.
When we don’t go into the main dining room, Cara shoots me a questioning look. I just flash her a knowing smile, take her hand, and walk with her to the private dining room I booked for us.
While I genuinely don’t mind taking photos with fans and enjoy interacting with them, tonight I just want privacy with my girl. I want an uninterrupted, fancy dinner and then to take her back to my place and show her how much I’ve been craving her all damn week.
The private room is small and intimate, with soft lighting and a circular table set for two, a black tablecloth, and a bottle of sweet rosé wine on ice in the center.
“Oh, Jake,” Cara says softly, squeezing my hand as she leans into me. “Who knew the famous BlueHawks Playboy would be so damn sweet?”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss her gently before leading her to the table and pulling out her chair for her to sit. “Only for you, princess,” I say honestly, taking my own seat as the waiter pours our wine.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be a rosé guy,” Cara comments as she takes a sip, humming with pleasure at the flavor.
“I’m not, but I took a bet that you would be,” I say, taking a drink from my glass. It’s sweet and light and honestly, not that bad.
Cara’s gaze softens. “Damnit, Jake, are you trying to make me fall in love with you or something?”
Yes. “Haven’t you already?” I ask with a grin.
Cara blushes but doesn’t answer, and before I can analyze that, we’re presented with menus. I’ve been here a few times before, and I know that everything is good, so I don’t pay much attention to the options, instead studying my girl as she reads through everything.
I order one of each thing she mentions liking the sound of, despite her insisting she can just choose like a normal person. But why would I make her, when I’d rather spoil the shit out of her instead?
When our orders are taken, and we’re alone again, I lift the bag of gifts I got her off the floor. First, I give her the bouquet of lilies and daisies I bought her, having figured out that roses are not her style. Her eyes light up as she takes the flowers, inhaling the sweet scent.
“They’re beautiful, Jake, thank you,” she says, holding them like they’re the best gift she’s ever been given.
“There’s something else, too,” I tell her, handing her the bag.
“What? Why?” she says, taking it with suspicion.
I laugh. “I don’t need a reason to spoil you,” I tell her honestly. “Just open it, would you? I promise you’ll like it.”
She shoots me a narrow-eyed look before she pulls out the box and opens it. She gasps loudly, her hand flies to her mouth as she looks between the shoes and me.
“Jake, you didn’t…” she whispers, pulling out a shoe and gazing at it like it’s a precious jewel.
The shoes are a combination of black lace fabric, lethally tall heel, and bright red bottoms. She’ll look amazing in them, and I’d pay the steep price ten times over just to see the awe in her face right now.
“How did you know?” she asks, gaping at me.
“I saw you gazing adoringly at them online in your lunch break once,” I tell her with a shrug. “And you should have whatever you want, so I got them for you. Do you like them?”
“Like them?” she repeats. “Jake, these are like my dream shoes. I fucking love them!”
I grin, and she hops up from her chair, setting the shoes down gently, before running to me.
I catch her as she throws herself on top of me, kissing me deeply.
I almost say fuck it, abandon dinner, and take her home right then and there.
But then I remember that I’m trying to woo her properly and treat her the way she deserves, to show her that she really does mean everything to me, and I manage to find the strength to pull away.
“If I don’t stop kissing you, we’re going to get banned from this restaurant because I’ll have you spread out over this table like you’re my whole meal,” I groan, turning Cara's cheeks bright crimson.
“Don’t tempt me,” she murmurs, but she does us both the favor of standing up and returning to her seat, putting the table between us. Her expression turns serious as she says, “Thank you, Jake. Not just for the present, but for noticing what I like. It means a lot.”
I reach across the table and take her hand. “You’re impossible not to pay attention to, princess,” I say, “and I’ll spoil you for as long as you’ll let me. I know I have a reputation in the press, but there’s nothing else I want in life except my job and you.”
The smile she gives me is brighter than the sun. “I feel the same way, Jake,” she says, and the entire world could be burning outside right now, and I wouldn’t give a single shit as long as she keeps looking at me like this.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and I’m determined to spend the rest of my life proving it.