“What are you doing?” My voice comes out husker than I’d like.
“Keeping things believable.” His smile may be saying that, but the heat in his eyes tells me something entirely different. “I enjoy seeing you with your hair down.”
“I don’t like driving long distances with a ponytail. It gets annoying.”
“You should wear it down more often. It suits you.” He cups my face.
My eyes flutter shut before I realize what’s happening. I force them open. “I think that’s sufficient to convince them.”
He tilts his head and leans in. From behind, it must look like we’re kissing, but Payton keeps just enough distance between our faces so that our lips don’t touch, and his eyes are hooded as to appear closed. “Just making sure.”
His breath fans my lips with his warmth, causing me to long for him to actually kiss me. But then the scent of his spicy soap floods my nose and slaps my senses awake. I could easily lift up on my feet, bringing my mouth to his. For believability, of course, not to mention that my body is begging me to do it.
But this is just for show, so that would be unnecessary. Unless this is his competitive nature peeking out, and it’s always about the game for him. Any game.
Observation #6: Payton is a bit of a thrill seeker.
After encountering plenty of them during my time in the military, I know the type. Although, Payton is nowhere as extreme.
I slide my hand up his chest and over his shoulder, pressing against him in a hug, which puts my mouth conveniently near his ear. “This should help, too.”
He hums his agreement, and as I’m about to pull away, the scoundrel wraps his arms around meand crushes me against him. His hold is so tight I can’t even wiggle enough to put a little air between us. He’s a wall of muscle that’s driving my heartbeat so hard and fast I’m convinced you could see it pulsing under my skin.
“Now, who’s playing dirty?” I whisper, making sure my lips brush against his ear.
His breath hitches, making his grip loosen enough that I can break free. But his blazing stare stops me from fully leaving his embrace.
“Call it even?” His voice sounds rough, almost strained.
And that, my friends, is how it’s done. I tilt my smile to the side. “Not on your life.”
A soft, deep laugh rumbles through his chest. “Game on.”
Mia leans between the front seats. “That was some kiss, Lily. You’re going to make the rest of the WAGs envious if you two keep that up. I didn’t think Payton had it in him.”
I dart my eyes up to my rearview mirror and take in her borderline awed expression. “Just because Payton tends to be shy doesn’t mean he’s not passionate.”
Why do I feel the need to defend Payton? I could use the excuse that I’m maintaining believability, but the truth is, I know in my gut that it’s true. Payton is the kind of guy who gives himself completely to what he loves. I see that in him when he talks—and reads—about hockey, in his friendships with his teammates, and in the way he talked to his sister when I happened to overhear the tail end of his conversations with her this morning.
Plus, he’s sexy as hell. I’ve been in some very precarious situations with my job, but I’m beginning to think this one is by far the most dangerous because my heart’s getting too involved.
There. I acknowledged it. Now I have to figure out what todo about it. I still haven’t had a chance to text Del about this girls’ weekend development, but I can hear her cackle already.
I’m almost positive she won’t like it either because that will require her to be more hands-on while I’m indisposed, pretending to run around with THE GIRLS.
Mia giggles. “I guess I just never thought of Payton that way.”
Sophie bends over and tugs her pink planner out of her bag. “Oh, I had a rush of ideas last night about our fundraiser.”
Bless that woman for changing the subject because whatever this is rising in me needs to settle back down.
“Let’s hear it.” I check my mirror again to see Mia’s completely focused on Sophie now.
Another bullet dodged, I suppose. Sure hope there aren’t more like them.
Sophie folds back the cover of her notebook. “I know we talked about doing a carnival, but we’d have to charge too much to recoup the cost and meet our donation goal. But then I realized we could do something similar in the arena. Kids love to ice skate. We could have the guys do drills with them and even set up a mini hockey rink at one end of the ice.”
Mia bounces up and down. “And we could give the kids rides on the Zamboni!”
