Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
"Your team will be disappointed to hear that."
"It's not a team sport, princess."
"Pity," I whisper, licking my lips. "Seems like it'd be way more fun if it were."
"Fucking minx," he groans, his hands sinking into my hips as he leans toward me. My stomach bottoms out, my heart racing at the way he grips me so possessively.
This is it. Nash Whatley is going to kiss me.
He leans closer.
"Whatley! Why the fuck do you have your hands on my daughter?"
I hate my life. It's a cruel, vicious Shakespearean farce. And my father is the Bard himself, penning gosh damn tragedies right through the middle of the good parts.
Nash's eyes whip to mine like lightning striking, his hands falling from my hips. "Daughter?"
"Did I forget to mention that?"
"Yeah, princess," he growls, storm clouds roiling in his eyes. "You definitely forgot to mention that."
"Whoops. My bad."
I should probably feel guilty for not making sure he knew, but I don't. It's been the same story my whole life. As soon as someone finds out who my dad is, suddenly, I'm untouchable. Even on the other side of the freaking country, as soon as people knew, my dating life dried up faster than the Sahara. The only candidates left were the guys hoping to get in good with him…and that was absolutely not happening.
Being the only virgin left alive never really bothered me before. No one ever interested me enough to get worked up about it when toys do the trick just fine. But I really, really wanted this man to do some touching.
There's no way that's happening now.
I slide out from under his arm, disappointment coursing through me.
His lips brush my ear, sending a jolt through me. "If you think being Lariat's kid is going to save you, you're wrong," he growls.
I whip my head in his direction, my eyes wide.
"This isn't over."
"Whatley!" my dad growls. "Don't piss me off, kid."
Damn. I almost forgot he was charging toward us like a raging bull. His timing, for lack of a more apt descriptor, sucks sweaty hockey balls.
"Found her in the locker room, Coach," Nash says casually, turning to glance at my dad, who is staring at us with suspicion stamped all over his rugged face. "I just escorted her out and was making sure she's okay." He winks at me, stepping away to create some respectable distance. "She's a little upset about what she saw in there. I believe she called it a sausagefest."
Oh, he's good. Evil, but good.
"Fuck." My dad stops midstep, glancing toward the locker room door with furrowed brows. "She walked in there?"
"She is right here," I complain. Being talked around is so aggravating! I'm twenty-four, not four.
"You walked in on them changing?"
"Yes."
"Son of a bitch," my dad mutters.
"Nice to meet you, Emilia." Nash pulls open the locker room door, strolling through it. I may or may not stare at his ass the whole time. I'll never tell.
"You okay, kid?" my dad asks.
I startle, quickly yanking my gaze up.
"Fine," I mumble, and then press my hands to my overheated cheeks, staring at him with wide eyes. "You could have warned me not to go in there!"
He rubs the back of his neck, chuckling ruefully. "Well, shit, Em. I figured you'd call me when you got here, not burst right in."
I eye him sideways. Does he even know me at all? "When have I ever knocked on a door?"
"Good point." He strides forward, pulling me into a tight hug. I squeeze him back, resting my head on his broad shoulder for a minute. I've missed him like crazy. I've always been a daddy's girl. "Were they nice to you?"
"I'm going to need brain bleach to unsee what I saw, especially if I'm going to be helping out around here, but they were fine, Dad. Very respectful," I promise.
"What was going on with Nash?" He pulls back to look at me, suspicion lingering in his gaze. "That didn't look like him comforting you. He was in boxers."
"And I was a deer in the headlights with a team of naked hockey players. Naked hockey players who I'll be discussing mental health things with in two weeks, I might remind you. Would you have preferred that he left me in there? He was just being helpful."
"You sure? I'll send his ass down to our minor league team if I need to do it, Emilia," he says, his hazel eyes completely serious. "If you're going to be working for the team, I don't want them thinking they can fuck around with you. If I need to make an example of someone to drive that fact home, I'll do it."
"Dad," I protest, my heart clenching at the thought of him sending Nash to the minor league team in Pennsylvania. "That's insane!"
"You come first, kid. You aren't getting mixed up with one of these guys. I know exactly what kind of trouble they can be. I used to be one of them. How do you think I met your mom?"