Page 66 of The Puck Stops Here

‘Don’t you have a game tomorrow?’

‘And?’

She hesitated, mouth opening and then closing as she turned away to pull open the fridge. She bent down to peruse the bottles, and he tore his gaze away before he broke a tooth.

‘Any beer in particular?’

Don’t look. Don’t look.‘You choose.’

‘Do you want to take a seat and I’ll be with you in a sec?’

He pulled out the stool beside him and promptly sat. Like a schoolboy caught doing something he shouldn’t. And what the hell was that about?

‘I might as well join you; it’s not often you get to enjoy a free beer after— Oh…’

He caught her frown. ‘What’s up?’

‘I thought we might sit on the sofa, it’s cosier.’ She coloured. ‘More relaxing.’ She got redder. ‘What I mean is, it worked well for your brother.’

And she promptly shut her mouth, eyes wild once more.

I bet it did, honey.

He started to move, and she hurried forward.

‘No, no, stay there, it’s—oof!’

She collided with the coffee table, her body lunging forward as her hands complete with beers soared north and the rest of her fell south. He dived into her path, grabbing her around the waist and she landed against him hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she blurted.

‘I’m not.’ His body was on fire with the heat of hers, loving every second.

She blinked up at him, beers still skyward, body still imprinted.

‘I thought you were making shit up when you told my brother you were called Twinkle Toes.’ He gave a low chuckle. ‘Now I know it’s for real.’

‘If you’d seen the amount of superglue my mum went through when I was a kid, you wouldn’t question it.’

He set her back on her feet, his body grumbling at the loss of hers. ‘Okay?’

‘Yeah, thank you,’ she said, handing him a bottle. ‘And I’m happy to sit on the stools if you’d prefer it?’

‘Even if it worked better with my brother on the sofa?’ he teased and her brows hit the heavens.

‘Blake!’

‘What?’

‘I’m going to pretend I never saw that glint in your eye!’

She moved to the sofa and promptly swapped her bottle for her phone, all business.The sofa it is then…

‘I recorded your brother, are you happy for me to do the same?’

He paused mid-step. ‘Record it?’

‘My notes are good but they’re not as good as replaying the actual thing.’

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