Unravel Me is book #3 in the Playing For Keeps series, a series of interconnected hockey romance standalones with loads of laughter, heat, swoon, and a healthy dose of angst. While it can be read on its own, for a richer reading experience, reading in order is recommended.
ROSIE
“Whoa,” Marco breathes out. He puts his sunglasses on just so he can shift them down his nose as he stares out the window. “Hello. Hottie alert. And he’s got flowers.”
“What?” I spin, and when I spy the dark blue truck, the impossibly large man stepping down from it with a bouquet of peonies in his hand, my heart freefalls to my stomach. “Holy motherforking shirtballs.”
I press myself to the window, watching as Adam pulls off his sunglasses and folds them into the collar of his t-shirt, spinning his keyring on his finger before he points it over his shoulder and his truck beeps twice.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, right against the glass, fogging it up. I turn to Marco, folding my hands at my stomach. “How do I look? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It’s too late to change anything.” I shove him aside, rushing past him, down the hall to the front room. The door opens just as Marco crashes into me from behind, and I smile up at Adam as he halts, staring at the two of us staring up at him, breathless. “Adam. You’re here.” I raise my palms and gesture around me, in case he doesn’t know where he is. “Right here. In my work.”
He’s never been here, not inside. He’s always waiting for me after work, the sight of his truck pulling up fifteen minutes early making my heart flip-flop. And Piglet is ecstatic to see him and Bear waiting for her out front every Saturday morning. But he’s never, ever come inside, and something about it feels so…personal.
I take a step toward him before stopping myself, unsure how to act. He’s just watching me, his eyes moving between me and Marco, who may or may not be hyperventilating beside me.
And then suddenly, Adam grins, crooking his finger at me. “Get over here, trouble, and gimme your mouth.”
A grin ignites my face, and I dash across the lobby to Adam. He reaches down, hooking one arm beneath my ass, hoisting me to him before he presses his mouth to mine.
I sling my arms around his neck and whisper, “You’re here,” against his soft, plush lips.
“Couldn’t wait to see you tonight. Wanted to pop by and say hi.”
“Hiii,” Marco’s voice rings out from closer than I expect. I glance over my shoulder to see him slowly approaching, a dopey smile on his face. He waves one hand in a wide arc. “I’m Marco, Rosie’s amazing, beautiful friend who she loves so much.”
Adam chuckles, setting me on my feet. “Yeah, that tracks with everything she’s told me about you.” He offers him his hand. “Hi Marco. I’m Adam.”
“Mhmm.” His eyes move down Adam, then back up. “That you are, that you are. I’ve heard a lot about you, too, Adam, but not quite enough.”
“Maybe we could have dinner soon,” I suggest excitedly, looking to Adam. The sight of him, so imposing, so flawless, makes me nervous, and I find myself backtracking, twirling my hair around my finger. “Or whatever.”
His blue eyes move over me, and the corner of his mouth lifts as he pulls my finger free from my hair. “I’d love if we all had dinner, or whatever.” He holds out the bouquet of peonies to me, bright pinks, dusky yellows, and deep oranges, my favorite sunset. “These are for you.”
I lift the flowers to my nose to smell them, but gasp when I see what’s waiting inside.
Tucked in the middle of the bouquet is a hot fudge sundae from Dairy Queen.
“Extra hot fudge,” Adam whispers against my temple with his arm around my waist.
It’s the silliest thing, something so small and sweet, and yet it’s bringing three little words to the tip of my tongue, ready to roll right off it. I want to say it. I never have, because I’ve never felt it. I thought I wouldn’t be sure when I’d know I was in love, that I’d have to wonder, but I know now there is no wondering.
Love is, without a doubt, the most certain emotion I’ve ever felt. It’s steady and sure, constant, like the gentle ripple of the creek winding through the mountains, the quiet song from the birds in the treetops. I opened my eyes one morning and there it was, carved into the deepest parts of me, like it was always there.
Like Adam had always been a piece of me.
There’s a happiness radiating throughout me, a slight quiver in my hands as I stare at him, like my body is begging me to reach out, to take him into my arms, and God, I want to.
His mouth hooks up in the corner, a soft smile that touches every inch of his face. He sweeps his thumb across my lower lip. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s dangerous.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you’d marry me right now if I promised to bring you flowers and ice cream sundaes every day for the rest of our lives.”
I completely fail at biting back my smile when I tell him, “I’d settle for weekly.”
His brows quirk, a playful challenge. “Don’t tempt me, trouble. I didn’t come prepared with a ring.”
©️ Becka Mack, 2023
