Page 79 of The Au Pair Affair

At the sound of her squeezing the bottle, he was forced to close his eyes, the anticipation of her touch was so severe. He focused on keeping his breathing deep and even, but if the lights were on, she would see the rapid-fire pulse at the base of his neck, the way his hands were clasped so tightly in between his knees there was no blood left in his knuckles.

The slippery sound of the lotion being warmed in her hands ceased—

And then, her hands were on him. In the center of his back, smoothing the lotion downward where his injury lurked, throbbing sharply like a bad tooth. She found it with the same precision as always, her thumb digging into the meat to the right of his spine and working around, around, causing a shuddering groan to escape his mouth.

“Good?”

“You have no idea,” he managed.

“How does the muscle feel?”

“It’s just a strain,” he evaded automatically.

She hummed a reproof. “Since you won, maybe I’ll let you get away with that tonight.”

A thank-you got stuck in his throat becauseoh fuck, her buried thumb felt so good. Maybe thiswasonly going to be a massage. If so, he needed to stop thinking about turning around and nudging her backward on the bed, finding out if she’d come for more. Giving her more. Giving her everything he knew how to give.

Casual.

Stay casual.

“Speaking of our win tonight, I couldn’t help but notice you were heckling the ref like it was your job. Did we make a hockey fan out of you?”

“I’m claiming temporary insanity,” she sniffed. “That being said, I might have taken a tiny peek at the website for season ticket info.”

He chuckled into the darkness, but the sound dissolved into a hiss when she found a particularly sore spot just beneath his towel. “You don’t need season tickets, you’ve got me. Even when I, uh... even when I’m no longer playing, I’ll have standing tickets.”

She massaged him in silence for a moment. “Do you think that’ll be... soon?”

“Me not playing anymore?”

“Yes.”

He struggled through the uneasy feeling he got whenever the subject of retirement came up. It was more prevalent than usual because Tallulah was there. He wanted this woman to believe he was made of steel, but maybe that hope was as unrealistic asscoring another MVP trophy at thirty-seven. “Tonight... did it seem to you like it might be time for me to bow out?”

Gradually, her hands stopped moving.

Here it was. The moment she broke her opinion to him gently.

Burgess waited, tensed.

“Are you serious?” She sounded kind of stunned, as if the answer should be obvious. Oh shit, this was going to be worse than he thought. “You were...amazingout there. I don’t know anything about hockey, but I know the other team would have scored a bunch of goals if you weren’t standing in front of the goalie like a brick wall.No onegot past you. I couldn’t...” He heard her swallow. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And not just because I know you. I genuinely couldn’t figure out how you were anticipating the other players so far in advance. It made me pity Lissa’s future significant others.”

Burgess couldn’t draw breath.

There was a fuzzy ripple passing through his ribs that he didn’t know how to handle.

“I mean...” He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to rub at the too-light sensation. “One person got past me. They scored a goal.”

“Oh wow.” The sarcasm was evident. “Your goalie had to do his job one measly time. He should be giving you half his salary.”

A crack of laughter got free. “Tallulah . . .”

He didn’t know what to do with his hands.

His arms crossed over his chest and dropped, the right one lifting to smooth his beard unnecessarily. “Okay. I... okay. It’s not your job to fix my ego.”

“Who damaged your ego in the first place?” Honestly, now she sounded kind of pissed? Burgess twisted around to look at her over his shoulder and yeah, he could confirm. She looked adorably miffed. His heart pounded harder. “Who, Burgess? Who did this to you?”

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