“I never played hockey for the money. I played for the game,” I tell her.
“And why do you work at the marketing firm?” I ask.
“Hmm. That’s interesting.” I blink over at her. “No one has ever asked me that question before. No one has cared.”
She scoots a little closer. “Is it your dream job?”
“No,” I say out loud for the first time.
Her brows furrow.
“I work there because of my sister. Now, it’s about continuing her legacy.”
She thinks about it. “What is your legacy?”
“You’re asking the hard questions today.”
This earns me a grin as she runs her fingers through her hair. Our eye contact is intense, and I can’t help but study her lips or watch how her tongue darts out when she licks them.
“We should probably talk about earlier,” I say before we lose track.
She glances up at the clock above her mantel of photos. “Right. We should probably figure out how to squash this before the rumors start.”
“Or not,” I say, standing to grab the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.
Julie finishes her glass, then swipes the bottle from my hand and takes several gulps.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asks.
“Let people believe whatever they want.” I meet her eyes. “A love story is great for business. The women sitting in the dining room today were invested.”
She groans. “They were. This could get out of hand very quickly.”
“Well, if it helps, I can be your fake boyfriend until I leave,” I say with a pause.
Her eyes widen.
“Under one condition,” I add.
“Yes?”
“You give me relationship advice.”
Julie bursts into laughter, but my smile stays planted.
“Wait, you’re serious. You don’t need relationship advice. You’re a playboy.”
“Iwas. You’re levelheaded enough to be able to give real feedback. I want to be a good partner for whoever comes next.”
She holds out her hand. “It’s a deal, but you have to help me too. I don’t want to die alone, and I’m rusty on my dating game.”
“Okay.” We shake on it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “My brother is expecting me to return to the city changed. This is a start. Any opinions about me, I want them, good or bad.”
“Oh, that’s so dangerous, Nick,” she says. “Sometimes, my opinions are things that shouldn’t be said out loud.”
“Then whisper them,” I mutter.
She leans forward, her mouth close to my ear, her breasts pressing against my body. “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
