Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2)

by Danica Flynn

  “Oh my God, I was pretty hungry,” I admitted.

  “Oh, me too,” she agreed and took a huge gulp of her wine. I poured her some more from the bottle on the table. We clinked glasses, and I loved seeing the sweet smile across her face. “This is really nice, Aaron. Maybe too nice; this place is fancy.”

  I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face, especially at her using my first name. “I’m kind of surprised you’re gonna let me pay for dinner.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “Usually I would fight you, but you know I can’t afford this place.”

  “You know you don’t have to worry about that. I’m—”

  “Don’t start with that.”

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. So tell me about the book.”

  She looked taken aback. “You want to hear about my work?”

  I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

  She avoided the question by shoving another piece of sushi in her mouth and then taking a long sip of her wine. I cocked my head at her, waiting for her answer.

  “Sorry. Eric never wanted to hear it. He was actually pretty pissed when I quit my job last year. But, I mean, the sales on the first book allowed me to.”

  I narrowed my eyes. The more she revealed about her relationship, the more I thought it was a good thing that Eric didn’t show up yesterday. There was no way she would have been happy with him. I curled and uncurled my fist under the table. Man, did I want to throttle that guy.

  “I liked the first book, but I haven’t read the second one,” I admitted.

  I watched her bring her hands to her chest. “You bought my book? Really? I mean, I know you read the very bad first draft I wrote, but...”

  “Of course! I’m so proud of you. You always wanted to write, and you’re finally doing it.”

  She clenched her hands to her heart and gave me a look of adoration. “You have no idea how much that means to me to hear you say that. My family hasn’t been that supportive about this career change.”

  I nodded. I vaguely remembered my mom saying something about how Katherine thought this was just a passion project. That really rubbed me the wrong way. It was clear that this was what made Fi happy, and when she talked about her writing, her eyes sparkled with delight, and her hands waved about excitedly. I definitely had to remind myself to pick up book two in her trilogy for my upcoming road trip.

  “Tell me how it’s going,” I encouraged.

  “No spoilers!” she exclaimed and then launched into vaguely telling me about trying to fix the problem she found in her draft today. She had a deadline that she really needed to meet, and she was super close, but having discovered this plot hole today, she was afraid she wasn’t going to meet it. I nodded while she told me all of this, feeling like she really needed someone to listen to her rather than have a solution to her problem.

  She paused after a long breath to take a sip of her wine, and then her eyes widened.

  “What?” I asked.

  She downed the rest of the wine. “Holy shit, I think I figured it out!”

  I laughed. “Just like that?”

  She nodded, then pulled out her phone and typed away at it. I tried to say something, but she held a finger up to shush me and continued whatever she was doing. A few minutes later, she put the phone down again and looked at me with an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, sometimes I have to write out some notes, or I will lose it,” she explained. “Enough about my stuff. Are you going to truthfully tell me how you think the Bulldogs are doing this season?”

  I groaned, and this time, I shoved sushi into my mouth, so I didn’t have to answer.

  She laughed heartily at my reaction. “Am I not allowed to ask you that question? I thought since I’m your wife, you’d actually tell me the truth.”

  I ran a hand down my face and gave her an exasperated look. “You know how the team’s doing.”

  “Yeah, like shit. Are you afraid you’re gonna get traded?” she asked cautiously.

  I shrugged. “No clue. We’re past the trade deadline now, but yeah, I’m worried. If they don’t re-sign me by July, I’ll become an unrestricted free agent.”

  “You want to stay in Philly?” she asked while spearing another sushi roll. I had to smile at how happy she looked when she ate.

  “I do,” I admitted.

  “Why?”

  “I want to stay near you.”

  Her face flushed at my admittance. “Oh.”

  “Philly’s home for both of us, Fi. I want to make sure we stay in the same city.”

  “But what if you got traded? Or signed somewhere else? Where would you want to go if they gave you a choice?”

  “Minnesota,” we said in unison and then laughed together.

  I shrugged. “I can’t really think about it right now. Have to focus on this season first.”

  She nodded. “It’s hard to know when I read so many articles ripping you to shreds, saying you should be traded. It makes me so angry. I want to go to their houses and punch them in the face. Like these armchair analysts even know shit about hockey.”

  I eyed her. “You read what they say in the sports section?”

  She scoffed at me. “Minnesotan! I love hockey, you know that. Also, I may have a Google alert set up for you,” she muttered that last part under her breath.

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I have a Google alert set up for you. I care about your career, about you.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course!” she exclaimed. “You worked your ass off to get where you are; it’s something I always admired about you. I always wanted to know where you ended up.”

  “I hate that our careers kept us apart so much.”

  She grimaced. “It wasn’t just our careers, you know that.”

  I was honestly surprised she admitted that. It had been clear to me that her ex didn’t like me and didn’t want us spending time together. When she told me he refused to have a summer wedding, I knew it was because he didn’t want me to show up.

  “He really didn’t want us to be friends.”

  “I’m sorry; I should have fought him more. You’re my best and oldest friend; I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  I grumbled and drained the rest of my wine. I was really glad she didn’t marry that douche. I was pretty sure I would have never seen my best friend again if she did. Just the thought of it put an ache in my chest.

  “You don’t have to worry about that now. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” I reassured her.

  She gave me a small smile in return.

  The waiter came and dropped off the check, so I picked it up to take care of it while she sipped on her water. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said to her once the check was all squared away.

  I felt warmth fill my chest when she reached out for my hand and slid her small fingers between my larger ones. Maybe I could score her heart after all.

  Chapter Seven

  FIONA

  It might have been the wine, but I felt a warm sensation in my chest by the time dinner was over and we got back to the hotel. I walked into the bedroom and kicked off my heels, then sat on the bed and rubbed my feet. I’m not sure why I even wore them in the first place when they hurt so much.

  Riley sauntered into the room and started taking his tie off and shrugging out of his suit. He looked damn good in a suit, I knew that, but it was nice that he dressed up to take me out to dinner.

  “What time is our flight, again?” I asked, too lazy to look at the email he had sent me earlier.

  He unbuttoned his shirt and untucked it from his pants, and all thoughts left my brain as my eyes scanned across his body. Geez, what was wrong with me? Well, it wasn’t weird to ogle the guy so much if you were technically married to him, right?

  “It’s early. Sorry, that was the best I could do,” he offered. “I need to be back for practice.”

  When Riley lo
oked at me, I felt like that timid seventeen-year-old girl in her parents’ basement again. I put a hand to my lip, and my thoughts drifted back to the plans for my book that I had gotten while we were at dinner. The words were still rolling around in my brain, and I needed to release them now, or I would lose them. The problem was, I also needed to pack up all my things and shower if we were going to leave early.

  I jumped when I felt Riley’s hand on my arm. “Sorry,” he said and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.

  I shook my head and looked up at him. He was still shirtless, damn him, but now he was wearing a pair of pajama pants. He looked down at me but then planted a tender kiss on my forehead. “Go on,” he urged.

  “What?” I asked and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  He took my hands in his. “You’ve got that look in your eyes like you need to write.”

  “But I need to pack.”

  “I’ll handle it,” he offered.

  “You sure?” I asked hesitantly.

  He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me so softly his lips barely ghosted over mine. “Go.”

  I didn’t need to ask him twice. I rushed into the adjoining room where my computer was, sat at the counter in front of my computer, cracked my knuckles, and poured out my soul onto the keyboard.

  Later, when I finished and had packed my computer into my carry-on bag, I returned to the bedroom to find Riley already asleep in the bed. I inspected the room and assessed that he did a good job of getting everything together. It was sweet that he did that for me so I could get some writing done. I always knew he cared about me, we were best friends after all, but it was like he was going out of his way to show it to me.

  I didn’t want to keep comparing him to Eric, but the differences between the two men were eye-opening. I was wondering if I really had been happy with Eric before it all went to shit yesterday. Maybe we had both settled? I didn’t want to think about it right now.

  I dug into my carry-on for my pajamas and slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. While I was washing my hair, I realized the kindness Riley had shown me tonight was probably the sexiest thing he could have done. It made me want him even more than I already did. Maybe it was the honeymoon thing, but I definitely wanted to jump his bones again.

  I towel-dried my hair, afraid the hairdryer would be too loud, and I didn’t want to wake Riley. I tip-toed back into the bedroom and put my dirty clothes in the top section of my suitcase. I looked for comfy clothes to lay out on the chair next to the bed so I could quickly change into them tomorrow morning. I then slid into the bed beside Riley and felt him shift onto his side so he was facing me.

  “Did you get everything done?” he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

  “I thought you were asleep,” I mused and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

  “I’ve been in and out.”

  “Hmm. Thanks for letting me go write. I needed to get that out.”

  His blue eyes popped open, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, trapping me in my position lying on my back.

  “I knew you needed to,” he told me, nuzzling my neck sleepily. It was kind of cute, and I never thought that Riley and cute would be in the same sentence. He was so big and manly. Kittens were cute; a six-foot-tall, two-hundred-pound hockey player, not so much.

  I struggled in his arms, and he laughed until he released his grip, and I shifted so I was facing him. I pulled him to me and kissed him softly. I sighed into him, and he kissed me back. I deepened the kiss by flicking my tongue across his bottom lip. I think I pouted when he pulled away and didn’t let it go any further.

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  “For what?” he asked, brushing a piece of red hair behind my ear. His calloused fingers lingered on my cheek and stroked in a soft and gentle pattern.

  “For letting me write. Even though I knew you would rather be doing something else.”

  “You had that twinkle in your eye; I wasn’t going to keep you from that. I know your writing’s important to you, and I’ll always support that.”

  Not sure what melted at that, my heart or my ovaries.

  “Oh, Aaron,” I whispered.

  He smiled down at me with a soft, small curve of his lips. The way he looked at me, like he was looking into my soul, made me want to push him away. His blue eyes searched mine, and then they closed slowly, and he kissed me again. A small, soft kiss, but one that made me feel safe and secure.

  I found myself disappointed when he rolled me onto my side instead of tearing off my clothes and getting on top of me again. He pushed my hair on top of the pillow so he didn’t lay on it, and then he clutched me against his chest, holding me tightly around the waist. I wrapped my arm around his larger forearm, circling the red and gold artwork on his arm.

  He lightly nipped my neck. “Stop, that tickles,” he whispered.

  A smile played across my lips. “I know that. It’s fun.”

  “You’re a naughty girl, Fiona Riley.”

  I turned around in his arms to fix him with a glare. “Um…I’m not changing my name!” I protested.

  He smiled at me, and I knew he was trying to hold in his laugh. I shoved him away, realizing he’d said it just to annoy me. He leaned down to chastely kiss my cheek. “Oh, sweetheart, I know you won’t ever change your name, and I would never ask you to.”

  “I’m not fucking property!”

  “No, sweetheart, you’re my equal, my partner,” he agreed.

  Something unlocked inside my heart at his words, but I swallowed and tried to shove it down. I wanted what he was offering, but could Riley really deliver? I pushed down the feelings that were trying to bubble up to the surface. The feelings of optimism, that maybe, just maybe, my best friend and I could make this marriage work.

  Instead, I stroked my hand across his chiseled jaw and kissed him again. He kissed me back, and soon I lost myself in the feel of my husband’s tongue tangling with mine while his hands roamed across my body. Our legs entwined while we kissed until we were burning up the sheets and I had a fire inside me, raging to get as close to this man as I possibly could.

  I straddled his hips, and his hands gripped my waist while he groaned against my lips. I smiled into the kiss and made my way down his jaw to that spot behind his ear. I loved the sound of him sighing in pleasure underneath me. I felt the stiffness of his erection beneath me, straining to be inside me again while I kissed my way from his ear to the column of his throat.

  “Fi,” Riley hissed.

  I pulled back to look down at him, his piercing blue eyes alight with desire. Wordlessly I pulled my t-shirt over my head and ran my hands down his bare chest. I played with the dusting of blond hair across the hard muscular planes of his chest. My husband was a work of art, but I knew he worked his ass off to be in peak physical condition. He needed to be for his job. A job he’d worked his entire life for. I had watched him work so hard only for it to pay off when he left for the NHL.

  When he finally left me.

  “Fi,” he said again, and this time it sounded like he was pleading.

  “What?” I snapped in annoyance.

  “We don’t have to have sex tonight,” he said.

  My face fell. “You don’t want to?” I asked. I felt an ache in my chest at that. Why didn’t he want me?

  He reached a hand up and pushed a strand of my hair out of my face. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t expect you to—”

  He cut himself off with a groan because I took his hand and shoved it into my pants so he felt my arousal. His big fingers dipped inside me and barely touched my aching clit. “Touch me,” I demanded. “Feel how much I want you right now. Don’t you want that?”

  He sighed. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so wet already.”

  I nodded vigorously and ground against his hand shamelessly. “Please, baby,” I begged. I never thought I would be straddling a man and begging him for sex while his fingers grazed my swollen clit. Or that I would be calling that
man ‘baby.’ Or that that man would be my childhood best friend.

  He shoved me off of him and pinned me down on the bed, hovering over me. I bit my lip in anticipation. His eyes were ablaze with passion. “Of course I want that, you silly woman. I don’t want you to feel like we have to because I told you to go write tonight instead of coming to bed with me.”

  “Oh,” I whispered.

  He was on to me. I was trying to have sex with him as a thank you to him for not complaining that I needed to get writing done. Eric always complained I loved my books more than I loved him. A part of me wondered if maybe he had been right.

  “Fiona,” Riley breathed, his breath hot on my neck. “I really want this to work between us. I want a partner, and I know that has a give and take.”

  “I want that too,” I admitted.

  I really did. A partner who felt like I was an equal was exactly what I wanted. But I was afraid that even though Riley said that was what he wanted, it wasn’t going to last. He would get bored of me; the fame and the women were what he wanted more than a quiet life with me. Because that was what he would have with me. I’m a quiet person, a private person, who buried themselves in fictional characters and didn’t have a lot of friends. I may have a loud personality, but I’m more of a hermit than people understood.

  He caressed my face gently. “Fi…”

  “Take what you want, Aaron. Take me, please,” I begged while I squirmed out of my pajama pants, leaving myself naked and on display for him.

  He grinned at me and shed himself of his own clothes. “Oh? Is that what you want? You want me to take charge?”

  “Aaron, please stop talking and get your dick inside me.”

  “Christ, Fiona,” he said with a chuckle. Then he kissed me hard again, pinning my arms above my head with one of his big hands. His other hand toyed between my legs, teasing me until I was writhing in pain from not getting what I desired.

  I kissed him back roughly, biting his lip and growling. He pulled away and pulled his fingers out of me. I whimpered at the loss, but then he flipped me over and swatted my ass. “Grab the headboard, Fiona,” he ordered in a low sexy growl.