Chapter 4
DANIEL SUTTON
“Itold you so,” Summer says as soon as I open the door. You’d think she’d won the Stanley Cup after shit-talking all season with that self-righteous smirk in place. It’s something I’m personally familiar with since that was me in the third season of my career.
And fourth.
Ninth.
Eleventh . . . fuck it. It’s every season.
Attitude shapes her body, her hand planted firmly on a kicked-out hip, giving those curves a nice S in the same fitted pale-blue dress she was wearing earlier. It’s short, how I like them, showing off her great legs and shoulders, fantastic tits, and hips to hold.
The swim trunks I’m stuck wearing until I can shower don’t exactly hide anything, so it’s not wise for me to continue thinking about my new landlord’s body or imagining holding her in certain positions. I drag my eyes back up to catch her staring at me.
Parted plush pink lips send my thoughts right to how they’d look wrapped around me. Blue eyes, brighter than the dress but softer than the sky, are fixed on my bare abs, inspiring me to run my hand over all eight of them.
Her bottom lip pinkens even deeper as she digs her teeth into it.
It’s not the first time a woman has stared at me like that, and I’d be willing to wager my penthouse in Manhattan it won’t be the last. Comes with the territory.
Pro athlete. Celebrity, which I fucking hate.
More money than I can spend in two lifetimes.
Other than me being an athlete with enough to give my kid the life I didn’t have, the rest is meaningless.
The goal wasn’t to become famous. It was to become a legend.
I want my name carved into the Hockey Hall of Fame next to the best that ever played the sport.
Gretzky. Lemieux, Gordie Howe, Orr—and Sutton.
Most valuable player seven times in my career has put me on track, and I won’t accept anything less.
Hitting a genetic goldmine as GQ and People’s “Sexiest Man Alive”—three different years—is a bonus.
Her gaze lingers, making me think she’s not as innocent as she portrays. “Not sure if you knew, Ms. Season, but my eyes aren’t down there.”
I’m hit with a glare, though I have a feeling it’s not as hard as she probably thinks it is. With a tilt of her head that leaves her ponytail swinging to the right, she blinks twice. “I’m well aware of where your eyes are located, Mr. Sutton.”
“You sure about that?”
“Absolutely, thank you very much.” By the hoity-toity tone, the lady doesn’t like to be called out. I don’t blame her, but I’m enjoying this little kitten trying to work herself into a panther. And failing. She’ll need sharper claws for that.
“You’re welcome.”
The slightest of eyerolls is given before she asks, “Why do you say that?”
I feign innocence. “Do I say it that much?”
“Yes, you do. I wasn’t really thanking you, and you claimed it like I was.”
“Does that bother you?” I tease. She’s too much fun to play with, and I can’t help myself.
She scoffs, but I catch the smile burgeoning at the corners of her mouth. “It bothers me that you answer with questions redirected at me like we’re in therapy.” She pokes my chest as she enters the place like she owns it. “News flash, we’re not.”
We may not be, but now watching the sway of her ass, it was worth irritating her. She walks with such purpose that following her inside is the only option. Stopping shy of the kitchen, she turns around fast like there’s something she needs to confront. Or someone.
Me? I grin in anticipation, but instead of words hitting me, her eyes land solidly on my hardest muscles and take in the view. Definitely me.
“If my being shirtless is too big a distraction—”
“What?” she stammers as her gaze tries to find a safe place to travel that’s not on my body. The lamp, the window, the couch, the rug, her sneakers. “I hadn’t even noticed.” Her shoulders pop the slightest of shrugs, confirming she doesn’t believe her own words.
“It was pointless to get dressed—”
“You’re fine.” She sighs as if she’s caught in a reprimand. “Not you’re fine. Though you are, but I mean, it’s fine that you are . . .” Her hand flies out toward me, and she shakes it like I’m summed up easily that way. “Not dressed.”
“Thanks.” I grin, appreciating this version of Summer Season best. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “Since I couldn’t shower, I stayed in my trunks—”
“You really don’t owe me the details, Mr. Sutton.”
Ah. Guess this is how it’s going to be . . .
But that’s fine. I can play along. “I wasn’t expecting you to come so fast.”
Her jaw hits the floor, my words lingering in the air. The innuendos are coming to me quicker than usual today. But like in every other part of my life, I peak at just the right time.
She swallows like a lump is stuck in her throat. “I . . .” She usually snaps back without missing a beat, but she seems to struggle to find the words she wants this time. After searching the ceiling and the floor, she finally replies, “It sounded like an emergency.”
“So you walked over?” She didn’t have a car parked out front. Chuckling, I cross my arms over my chest. “Anyway, I wouldn’t call it an emergency.”
“You sure about that? I wanted fresh air. It’s a beautiful day.” Her tone is lighter, her smile natural as she finds her stride again. “It gave me extra time to imagine you in that cold water—”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” I walk to the kitchen but stop and whisper in her ear, “Naked?” Catching the scent of honey and flowers has me stealing a deep inhale before I move on.
“Oh my God. No.” She staggers for a breath with her hand gripping the base of her throat. I have a feeling she’d be clutching her pearls if she were wearing them. “I would never—”
“That’s too bad.” Behind the peninsula, I ask, “Water? Soda? Something stiff?”
A heavy exhale leaves her chest as she turns and starts tracking me. “I’ll pass. Where’s your son?”
“Napping. We were on the road early. After spending time in the sun, he’s wiped.”
“I love napping on sunny days. Rainy days even more, though. The sound of the raindrops hitting the house, tapping against my window, or lying on a hammock on the front porch as a rainstorm rolls through.” Her eyes have softened, giving up whatever internal fight she was having.
“I don’t know, it’s relaxing like nature is forcing us to take some time to slow down. ”
Summer is adorable when flustered, but right now, with her armor down and revealing a part of herself that feels almost intimate, she’s beautiful.
“I don’t remember what it’s like to nap, much less on a rainy day,” I say.
Her smile is softer this time. “You should try it while you’re here. We get storms rolling in out of nowhere, and then it’s bright and sunny again an hour later.”
“I’ll have to do that.”
She looks so at ease here that it’s hard to imagine it’s not where she lives.
That same smile falters as she shifts her weight to the other side of her body.
Our gazes are still locked together as if we’d lost the key.
She clears her throat, breaking our gaze and glancing at the floor.
“I think it’s best if I take care of what I came here for and let you get on with your vacation. ”
“I take it you know your way around.”
She quirks a smile like the words themselves are ludicrous. “I do.”
In the span of three minutes, I’ve watched this woman go from looking like a bunny with a crush to flustered and ready to be done with me, but that peek into the real side of her . . . that was the best yet. Can’t wait to see what comes next. “Since we’re not drinking, what can I do?”
The smirk that splits those sexy lips is captivating.
“You’re already doing it. Stay out of the way and look pretty.
” She raises her finger in the air, “Oh, and watch and learn. You’re going to need to do this on your own.
” The initial punch to my ego was swift enough to catch me off guard.
But it was the follow-up I should have seen coming.
Chuckling, I reply, “You mean you’re not going to come over and do this for us every day, sometimes twice a day or even three times?” I follow her into the bathroom, stopping in the doorway to give her room to work and to watch this magic that’s apparently about to happen.
She steps into the shower but leans to look back at me. “Three showers a day? Lordy, that’s a lot. Why in the world would you need to take three showers a day?” I don’t have a chance to say anything before she adds, “Don’t tell me. I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
I like that she takes the swing and hits it out of the ballpark. “Funny.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I add, “I work out a lot.”
“I just bet you do.” I can’t see her in the tub due to the wall, but her tone tells me all I need to know. She’s on to me.
I move to the side where she’s standing under the showerhead with her hand on the faucet. “Tell me something—”
“Raccoons have the dexterity of humans and can open jars. Ask me how I know . . .”
“What the—” Laughter bellows from my gut. “How do you know?” I lean back, resting my palms on the bathroom counter.
She’s messing with the faucet, but stops to glance at me. “It was a mess of a honey story and better suited for another time.”
“Sounds like we’ll have more time together.”
“Only if you’re lucky,” she replies with her eyes back on the job at hand and a smile set on her face.
From what I’ve seen, I’m not sure she’s doing anything special other than fucking with the faucet. “Is this the trick to making it work?”
“No. This is,” she starts. “Okay, here’s what you do—”
“Wait.”
Her eyes widen as she turns to look at me again. “What?”
“Since my job is to look good, how am I doing?” Tightening my abs, I prepare for her to ogle.
After a quick swipe of her tongue against her bottom lip, she laughs. “I’ll leave you a full review later.”
I release the muscles and blow out a breath. “I look forward to reading it.”