Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) by Danica Flynn (best mystery novels of all time .txt) 📗

“Hey!” I exclaimed indignantly. It shouldn’t have felt this good being in my best friend’s arms.

His chest vibrated underneath me as he laughed. “Shush, the baby’s sleeping.”

I glared at him, and his blue eyes twinkled with a smile. “What baby?”

“Me!”

I pulled away from him and shoved his shoulder, but he laughed again. “Yeah, you’re a big old baby, that’s for sure,” I scoffed.

His eyes slid closed again. “What time is it?” he asked through a yawn.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Time for me to get up and get some writing done.”

“So, I didn’t know you were into romance books,” he commented and popped open one blue eye.

The blush rose from my neck and spread across my pale face. He had seen what I was reading last night. God, I hope he hadn’t read the page I was on because there was steamy action about to go down. I couldn’t believe I fell asleep before getting to that! Also, it was a good thing Katie and Brad had been over last night because otherwise, I would have been reading in the bed with my vibrator out on the nightstand, ready to go. God, I hope he didn’t know I had that. Or how much I had used it in the few days he had been gone.

“I read lots of books,” I argued. “Do you want to sleep in for a little longer? I can wake you in a little bit.”

He reached out a hand and found mine on the bed. My chest felt warm at his touch, but I tried to ignore it. “Please. Give me another hour?” he asked.

I pulled away from him quickly and nodded. I practically ran out of the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind me. I had to get out of there, or I would have done something irrational, like make love to my husband.

Make love? Geez, I must have been reading too many romance books lately.

I went into the kitchen to start making my coffee for the day, but I felt out of breath and frustrated. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Maybe I was in the wrong headspace to finish proofreading today. I had calmed down by the time I had a second cup of coffee in me and was sitting down at my desk to proofread the rest of this book. I was at the halfway mark when I heard the creak of the bedroom door. I looked at the clock on my computer and silently cursed. I had told Riley I would wake him in an hour, but I had immersed myself in my book for so long, it had been nearly two. I was finishing my edits on one last chapter when I heard footsteps behind me.

I saw Riley’s shadow in the screen of my laptop. He surveyed the piles of books that were in stacks on the floor and grunted. I cringed and hunched my shoulders, afraid of how mad he might be about the mess I made of his office.

I felt his hands on my shoulders suddenly. “Hey, what is that for?” he asked with a hint of concern at my tense reaction.

I turned to him and tried to form a coherent thought, which was hard when he stood there without his shirt, showing off his lean muscles and his abs for days. The words melted right out of my brain. His finger titled my chin up to look at him from my seated position.

I shook my head and batted his hand away. “Sorry, it’s such a mess. And sorry for not waking you; I got lost in the words.”

He studied me for a moment but didn’t say anything at first. “Okay, I think we need to go get you some new bookshelves.”

“You don’t need to buy me bookcases.”

He smiled. “I have the day off and no practice, so let me do something nice for you.”

Normally, I would have put up a fight, but the way he looked so earnestly at me, I couldn’t say no. I nodded. “Fine, yeah, okay.”

“Come on. You know you’re excited to buy new bookshelves.”

“Maybe…” I trailed off but grinned from ear-to-ear. Riley totally knew the right things to say to me. “I would totally marry the Beast to get that sick-ass library.”

“Are you saying I’m a beast?” He laughed and flexed his muscles.

I visibly rolled my eyes at him, but I smiled.

“Come on,” he urged. “I’ll make breakfast, and then we can go get you something better than the floor to put your books on. Damn, you have a lot of books.”

I cringed but stood up to follow him out of the office and into the kitchen. “Sorry.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Don’t be. I’m just teasing.”

I watched him make another pot of coffee and start cooking up some eggs for omelettes. I had asked him if he wanted help, but he absolutely refused. It was almost like he was trying to woo me, which I guess made sense if he really wanted this marriage to work. There was that old saying that a way to a man’s heart was their stomach, but I think they were talking about me.

He opened the kitchen cabinet looking for plates and looked back at me with a smile. “Did you do dishes while I was gone?”

“Yeah…” I trailed off like it was the dumbest question I had heard all week. “And the laundry.”

“I thought the sheets smelled fresh. That’s—you didn’t have to do that,” he stuttered.

I shrugged. “You weren’t here. Shouldn’t I help around here? I am your wife, after all.”

Riley set a plate down in front of me and handed me a fork, then he came around to the barstool next to me and took his own plate. He shoveled some food in his mouth, and I did too. I almost moaned at the