Page 97

Her tough composure cracked and a smile split her face. “Good. Because you were my only candidate at this point, and I really didn’t have a backup plan.”

I laughed loudly and Viv’s smile widened before she extended her hand.

I shook it.

“Welcome to the team, Sam.”

I drove home with the windows down and the music loud, singing along to songs I only half knew the words to and making up the rest. The spring air was cool enough to prickle my skin but warm enough that I didn’t care. The mountains were turning gold in the late afternoon light, and the sky was that specific shade of Montana blue that you couldn’t find anywhere else on earth.

I officially had a job. A real, actual, grown-up job that started after graduation and was exactly the kind of challenge that made my pulse quicken in a good way.

I was practically vibrating when I walked through the front door of the hockey house. The downstairs was empty—Liam and Drew must’ve been out.

I found Harry in the kitchen, standing at the counter chopping vegetables. I leaned against the door and nibbled my lip, watching him work. God, I never got tired of seeing this man cook. He made it look so fucking sexy.

I didn’t know I had a chef kink until Harry.

He looked up and set down his knife the second he saw my face. “How’d it go?”

I set my bag on the counter and leaned against it, facing him. “I accepted Viv’s offer. You’re looking at the new director of community relations and brand strategy for the Montana Thunder.”

A smile lit up his face as he lifted me and spun me around in a circle until I was giggling. When he set me down, I told him more about the job.

“I’m going to help build a team from the ground up. I’m going to be the person who introduces this state to their football team. Like, this is crazy and so fucking cool.”

“It’s absolutely perfect for you.” Pride was shining in his eyes, but he said the words anyway. “I’m so proud of you.” He pulled me into his arms and held me close. I breathed him in, loving his woodsy scent mixed with the herbs he’d been cooking with.

I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear those words.

I lifted my head and kissed him with all the love, joy, and excitement that was thrumming through me. His hands slid to my hips and mine went to his chest, gripping the front of his shirt. Our kiss deepened into something hungrier.

“Upstairs,” I said against his mouth.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He turned off the stove, because even mid-makeout, Harry was responsible about open flames, and then his hand was on my lower back, guiding me toward the stairs. We barely made it through his bedroom door before his mouth was on my neck and his hands were pulling my shirt over my head. I yanked his off right after and ran my palms over his broad and hard chest before reaching for his belt.

“Slow down.” His voice was already a little ragged, and it made my thighs clench.

“I don’t want slow.”

“Too bad.” He caught my wrists gently and backed me toward the bed until the backs of my knees hit the mattress. “I want to take my time with you tonight.”

The look in his eyes—dark, focused, reverent—made my stomach swoop. He eased me down onto the bed and stood over me for a moment, just looking at me, and his gaze traced over my body with an intensity that made my skin flush.

“You’re incredible,” he said. “You know that?”

“I’m better with you by my side.” It was the truth. I’d portrayed a strong, positive woman for years, but Harry made me actually feel that way.

His expression softened and he leaned down, bracing himself above me. He kissed me slow and deep, his tongue sliding against mine while one hand trailed down my side, over my ribs, across my stomach, over my scar, and down to the waistband of my jeans. He popped the button and dragged the zipper down, his knuckles brushing against me through my underwear, and I arched into the contact.

He peeled my jeans off, taking his time, pressing his lips to the inside of my knee, my thigh, the jut of my hip bone. When he hooked his fingers into my underwear and pulled them down, the cool air hit my skin and I shivered.

“Harry.”

“I’ve got you.”

He always did.

He settled between my thighs, and his mouth was on me before I could take a full breath. His tongue dragged flat and slow up my center, and my hips jerked off the bed at the contact. He pressed them back down with one hand splayed across my lower stomach, holding me in place while his tongue found my clit and circled it with a pressure that made my vision blur.