Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8)

“Wow, you really went there.” Fuck, and now my mind was playing the memory of her screaming my name on repeat.

“I’m a big girl, Lukas. I’m not ignoring what happened and what didn’t. I can be completely professional while also being someone you trust. That’s what I have that the others don’t. You already trust me.”

Fuck, she had me there.

“House,” I corrected her earlier statement.

“I’m sorry?” two lines appeared between her eyebrows.

“You said penthouse. I sold that last year and bought a house on the water.” A house away from all the noise and distractions of downtown Seattle.

“Really?” She stared at me like my words didn’t compute.

“Really. You might think you know everything about me, but you don’t. Not even close, Faith.” She knew exactly what the world saw, what I allowed to be seen. And she might know my habits, my reputation, and my past, but she didn’t know me. Not really.

I savored her confusion, concluded our interview and walked her to the door. “We’ll be in touch.”

“You know where to find me,” she answered.

My eyes glued to the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away, my hands clenching to keep from racing after her and pinning her to the wall.

There was zero fucking chance I was hiring Faith Gentry.

“You have to hire her,” Eric urged as he spotted me through my last reps at the gym. He was still sporting a sturdy knee brace from re-injuring his bad knee during playoffs when a Red Wing tangled him up in the posts.

With Davis in goal, we’d lost.

It wasn’t the loss that bothered me or the fact that we hadn’t made it to the cup. It was seeing how quickly a career could be over. Eric had been lucky, but none of us knew if he’d come back at full strength.

Any day. Any game. Any time I stepped on the ice, it could be over. That’s why Adrenaline had to launch successfully. That’s why it was a shit idea to work with Faith.

I pushed the bar back up, breathing through the extension as I lifted. Steel clanged as I dropped the weight back into the rests. “I’m sorry?” I asked as I sat up.

“You have to hire her!” Eric urged. “Seriously, it would be a solid favor to me. She needs the experience, and well, you’re known for being a pain in the ass.”

“You seriously want me working with your sister?”

“Well, yeah. Faith is good. She’s dependable, trustworthy, loyal to a fucking fault, and driven. She won’t let you down.” He stared at me like I was an idiot.

Pretty sure my expression mirrored his.

How the hell could he want me that close to Faith? Did he really not see the way I watched her? The fact that I pretty much had to adjust my dick every time she walked into a room?

Was he that blind? Because I was shit at hiding it.

“You realize I’ll have to take her to Sweden to prep for the launch,” I hinted.

“Oh yeah? She’d love that. She’s never been out of the country!”

“And you…” I swallowed. “You’d trust me to take her for weeks?”

His eyes widened and then softened as he clapped my shoulder. “Lukas, I know you’d defend her with your life. You’d never let anything happen to her. She’d be just as safe with you as she is with me.”

Except he didn’t want to fuck her.

“Look, I don’t want to sway you, but if you’d take her on, at least through the summer, I’d really appreciate it. I think you two would really work well together.”

“Just through the summer,” I said the words slowly.

“Just through the summer!”

Eric had never asked me for anything. He was a giver, one of those people who showed up when you needed him and never asked for a thing in return. And he was asking me to hire Faith.

I was so fucked.

I rang the doorbell at Faith’s place a little over an hour later.

“Coming!” I heard her voice through the door.

Sucking in a breath, I mentally steeled myself to see her. The door swung open, and the scent of vanilla and pears hit me harder than a shot of vodka.

“Lukas!” Faith gaped up at me. She wore shorts and a tank top that molded to her perfect breasts, her neck bare with her hair piled on the top of her head in a riot of fiery curls.

“Faith.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“Um. Do you want to come in?”

“Sure.” It beat standing there awkward as hell.

She let me into the small entry hall and shut the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”

“You really want to work for me?” I asked, running a hand over my still shower-damp hair.

“I do,” she assured me, crossing her arms under her breasts.

“Eric wants me to hire you.”

She swallowed, glancing down at her bare toes before looking back up at me. “And is that what you want?”

“I don’t see how the hell you think this could be a good idea.”

“I can be professional,” she insisted. “It’s fine that you’re my brother’s friend.”

“And the fact that we—” The words caught in my throat when I saw the bag leaning against the small wall. That was a goalie bag, and it sure as fuck wasn’t Eric’s. “Whose gear is that?”

She followed my line of sight. “Oh, that’s Sawyer’s. I keep telling him not to leave it in the entry, but it’s better than the kitchen.”

“Sawyer.” A red haze fell over my vision. I didn’t know who Sawyer was, but I was going to murder the bastard with his own fucking skates.

“Right. He lives here too.” Faith stepped closer to me. “Lukas, are you okay?”

I backed away from her outstretched hand, and she quit pursuing me. “You live with a hockey player? Does he play for the minors? Do I know him?”

She shook her head, confusion puckering her forehead. “Sawyer is the goalie for U-Dub. He’s not a pro, and we’ve lived together all year. What’s going on with you?”

I’d already mentally killed him at least a dozen times. How the fuck could she let him touch her? Live with her? How serious were they? How did I not know? Was this why Eric was cool with us working together? He knew she was in a committed relationship? For a fucking year?

The math hit me.

“Wait, you lived with him while you were dating Frat-Boy?” I asked, my gaze jerking back to hers.

Her expression softened, as though she’d put something together. “Lukas, I’m not dating Sawyer. We’re just roommates. Harper lives here too, but I’m not dating her, either.”

It took a couple of deep breaths for her words to sink in. “You’re not dating him?”

She shook her head. “No. I haven’t dated anyone since...well, you know. You were there.”

Hell yes, I was. She’d been under me, her skin flushing from my touch, her breath in my ear, her tongue in my mouth, my fingers between her thighs.

Fuck, I wanted her there again.

“This is a bad idea,” I rasped, my voice thick with barely leashed restraint.

“What? Me living with Sawyer?”

“No, you working for me. It’s a bad idea, and it’s going to end badly. You deserve that honesty up front.” I tucked my thumbs into the back pockets of my jeans to keep from reaching for her.

“Because you think I can’t handle you?” Her posture stiffened.