Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You’re drooling.”
I ignore Bea’s quip as Fable waves awkwardly to everyone who is gawking at her. Which is basically the whole town. I bet everyone assumed she wouldn’t come, just like I had, but one thing about the ice princess, she does things in her own time.
Once she’s by her grandmother, she slips on her pumps and asks, “Who picked this song? He hated this song.”
I have to cough to hide my laughter.
Of course, that earns me dark looks from the women around me, but I ignore them, my eyes fully trained on the back of the ice princess’s head. She has to feel my gaze since I can’t help but drink in every single inch of her. Her dress leaves her back exposed, and she has the cutest little roll around the middle that I want to trace my fingers along. I loved her hair long, but I can’t deny how sexy it is all short and sassy. I have known the ice princess my whole life. She never had time for anyone, always so focused on her skating. It took my coming into her world to be noticed, but even then, I don’t think she ever saw me.
I was only her partner, and she was the girl I wanted.
But couldn’t have.
My breath hitches when she looks over her shoulder and lifts her glasses up into her hair. Her green eyes almost glow in the June sun as she looks out at everyone.
Then her eyes meet mine.
It’s like being smacked back two decades to the first time my horny teenage self saw her in a way that wasn’t approved by the church. My body goes still, my heart jumps into my throat, and I’m stunned in place. Still drop-dead gorgeous, with thick black lashes that frame her moss-green eyes. Her lips all plump, kissable, suckable. Her shoulders are thick with muscle, and I want to sink my teeth into the spot that connects her neck to her shoulder. My skin tingles in all the right ways, and my cock throbs against the zipper of my slacks. I swallow hard as I hold her gaze, unable to look away, unable to make myself send her a greeting. All I can do is stare.
And she stares right on back.
Everything else fades into the background, and I have to force myself to look away.
Because she may be back and mouthwatering, to boot, but nothing has changed.
I’m a Cook, a washed-up hockey player from the working class.
And she’s a Winthrop, a silver-spoon ice princess.
I wasn’t good enough for her then, and I sure as hell am not good enough for her now.
CHAPTER
THREE
Fable
There is not enough wine or hair clippers in the world to deal with my mom right now.
As I stand in the kitchen, the Winthrop estate is buzzing, with everyone from town coming to offer their condolences. Yes, I’m hiding. I have to, before I’m a drunk mess with a bald head. My mom is on one hundred today, and I swear I bring out the worst in her. She has been on me since I arrived.
Your dress is too tight.
How could you kick off your shoes like that?
What do you mean, you and Chad broke up?
What did you do to your hair?
Why are you always on “Fable time”?
You couldn’t just come here when you were supposed to?
I mean, I get that she’s pissed I was late. I am pissed too. It also didn’t help matters that I stopped to get my hair chopped off, which really made her mad since she loves my hair long. In all honesty, I shouldn’t have stopped so many times on my trip here. If I hadn’t stopped in Indiana for hot dogs, then in Kentucky for a new Derby hat I won’t wear, and then made a detour to Nashville for hot chicken and to visit my favorite mall, I would have been here yesterday. I couldn’t bring myself to drive straight through, no matter how great my audiobook was. It killed me to stop it for all my side quests, but I wasn’t ready to be here. Hell, I’m still not ready.
But I’m here. In Thistlebrook.
And my grandfather is gone.
From where I sit at the breakfast table, I can see Kitty sitting in Grandpa’s chair, his hockey sweater huge on her body, as she continues to thank everyone for coming and for supporting her. The whole town showed out, not that I expected anything less. Everyone loved my grandpa; he was hardworking and charismatic. He made a place for hockey lovers and, in doing so, brought so much revenue to this town. He used to say it was both of us who did that since I did go pro for ice-skating, winning three gold medals, but I wouldn’t have loved it as much as I did if it weren’t for Grandpa, Kitty, and the Ice Thistle.