Hannah had the evening off from work, so I called her after leaving the youth center to see if she wanted to join us. Did she know about the little conversation I’d had with Wes—about my warning to him? Heck no. I just hoped he wasn’t planning to be an asshole like the ones she had been involved with in the past.

Not that she couldn’t handle him if he did end up being one. The woman loved her karate and practiced it often. Her goal was to eventually get her black belt.

Was I going to warn Wes about that little tidbit? Nope—figured I’d let him discover that on his own.

The table where everyone in the group was seated had only one empty chair—between Travis and Wes. On the other side of Travis, talking to him, was a gorgeous blonde in a tailored suit. She laughed and tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ear in full-out flirt mode. Whatever she said must have been funny because Travis also laughed.

And jealousy stomped through me—the sound drowned out by the live band.

You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. He’s not really your boyfriend. Once our farce was over, he could go back to screwing whomever he wished.

Did my little motivational speech help?

Not even a little.

Hannah and I approached the table and I introduced her to everyone. Only then did Travis look up at me. He grinned with a relieved expression—not the stamp of annoyance I’d expected from my intruding on his flirting with the blonde.

“Babe, what are you doing here?” a guy said behind me. I spun around to find the last creep Hannah had gone out with.

He was wearing a T-shirt for a band I’d never heard of and had a sleeve of tattoos on one arm. He wasn’t bad looking, but all the guys at the table were much hotter. I couldn’t remember his name.…So how about I call him “the idiot” to make things easier?

“I’m not your babe,” Hannah said with a sneer. He was lucky. At least she hadn’t practiced one of her karate moves on him.

Yet.

Oh, just a little warning—unless you know what you’re doing, never offer to help Hannah practice her karate. But don’t worry, my ankle was fine after a few days. And the bruise on my hip wasn’t all that noticeable—under my clothes.

Wes stood up. He easily towered the idiot by a few inches. “I like this song. You wanna dance?” he asked Hannah.

She glanced between the two men. She wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed playing damsel in distress—which was why she practiced karate. But Wes was a better alternative than taking down the idiot in the pub. The owners might not have appreciated it.

And since this was the location of the fundraiser—and Hannah knew this—she fortunately decided to take Wes up on his offer of an easy escape.

The idiot glared at their backs as they walked away, then returned to whatever hole he had slithered from.

Before I had a chance to go back to contemplating the seating issue, Travis’s hands were around my waist and he pulled me onto his lap. I fought back the urge to scan the pub for Fanny or her friends—or anyone else who could possibly report back to her about our true dating status.

“Figured you’d be comfier on my lap,” Travis said as if reading my mind.

The blonde he was talking to eyed me with interest—but not the kind that involved pulling my hair out because I was after her man.

“Jennifer, this is my girlfriend, Emma.” Travis’s thumb brushed against my lower back. “Jennifer is Abigail’s granddaughter.”

It took a second for his meaning to sink in. Oh.

“I was surprised when my grandmother told me that Travis had finally settled down,” she said.

“Travis and I aren’t—”

“We aren’t ready to announce anything just yet, are we pumpkin?” Travis’s arm moved to around my waist and he gave me a brief squeeze.

Again I didn’t have a chance to say anything. The band began playing a ballad, and Travis almost dropped me on my ass as he scrambled to his feet. Luckily for me, his hands were on my hips, which prevented me from making nice with the floor. “Oh, look, it’s our song,” he said even though I’d never heard it before. “Let’s dance.”

He grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor. Hannah and Wes were heading back to our table.

Travis pulled me close and my arms automatically went around his neck. And like a magnet, my gaze was drawn to his lips. It had been a long time since I’d last kissed him. The craving to feel his mouth on me was overwhelming. Was this what a drug addiction was like?

It would certainly explain why my brain turned to mush every time I kissed him. His kisses were a drug. A wonderful, the-earth-is-shaking-under-my-feet drug.

“You can kiss me if you want,” Travis said, smirking. “In fact, I highly recommend it.”

My smile now mirrored his. “You do, do you? And why is that?”

“Because you know what they say about a kiss a day?”

“What’s that…it keeps the doctor away?” More like it made you incredibly horny.

“Something like that,” he said, his voice I-want-to-toss-you-on-the-table-and-fuck-you-long-and-hard sexy.

The soft moan? Your imagination.

We continued to sway in time to the music. He brought his mouth to mine—and then we were kissing.

Yes—his kisses were exactly like a drug. A drug I never wished to give up. Going cold turkey would be tough. But like a dieter who ate as much junk food and chocolate as possible before giving it all up, I continued to devour him.

After a few minutes, we eventually came up for air.

“You think Jennifer will tell Abigail that she saw us making out on the dance floor?” I asked after I’d regained my breath.

“Hopefully it was enough to convince her.”

I frowned. “Convince her? She needs to be convinced?”

“She was hitting on me before you showed up.”

“And you don’t like it when beautiful women hit on you?” Not that I was complaining when it came to that particular beautiful woman.

“Not when they’re testing me,” he said.

“Why would she be testing you? Is she interested in you?” Because that wouldn’t surprise me. What woman wouldn’t be interested in him? Unless they had something against hockey players.

“I have no idea if she’s interested in me…although Granny did try to set me up with her a few months ago.”

Of course she did.

“I just don’t think she bought into our act,” he said.

I moved my hand from around his neck and cupped his face—all for Jennifer’s benefit. Okay—for mine, too. “Why wouldn’t she?”

He turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand. I had to fight back the urge to check her reaction. “Because after Abigail tried to set us up, Jennifer confronted me and told me once a manwhore, always a manwhore. Apparently she’s a defense lawyer and a very good one. If we can’t convince her that we’re an item, she’ll expose us to Granny.”

This time my frown wasn’t one of confusion. “Why would she do that?”

He shrugged. “It might have something to do with her ex-husband cheating on her.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch is right.” Travis dipped me, then pulled me up so suddenly, I practically stumbled into him.

“A new move you learned for the fundraiser?” I asked.

He laughed. “Not unless I’m planning to use it on Josh, and I have a feeling he’ll have something to say about that.”

I grinned. “Then I’m impressed. Was that by any chance for Jennifer’s benefit?”

“Maybe it was. Or maybe it was so I can do this again.…” His mouth crashed against mine in a not-so-gentle kiss—and I definitely wasn’t complaining.

Nor were my girlie parts—especially if the kiss led to something that would make them extremely happy.

Sorry to disappoint, girls, but that’s not on the agenda.

Naturally, they weren’t too impressed with this and threatened to ignore Alejandro the Second once I introduced him to them.

I inwardly sighed.

The song ended and we returned to the table. Jennifer was no longer there. She was sitting at another table not far from ours, with four other men and women, all chatting animatedly.

She peered over at us, her expression not giving anything away.

Oh, boy.

“For a moment there,” Liam said, “I thought we’d have to grab a fire extinguisher before you two burst into flames.”

Trent and Kelsey had that look people got when they suddenly understood something. Only I had no idea what they understood. Liam and Wes were staring at us like we were a jigsaw puzzle they were attempting to figure out—and they didn’t have a picture on the box to go by.

Hannah’s expression was the one that had me worried. She knows. Somehow she’d added two and two together, and realized my feelings had gotten things all screwed up when it came to the simple task. The simple task that involved me pretending to be Travis’s girlfriend—and in return, he helped save my store and helped with the fundraiser.

Why both? The logical side of my brain prompted. Why not just help me with the store?

Because he understands how important it is that I help the kids at the youth center, I pointed out. It was why he was also helping me with the mural.

And because if in the end he couldn’t help me save my store, at least it wouldn’t feel as though I had pretended to be his girlfriend for nothing. He had already given me so much more than I’d expected.

Now if only Jennifer could read me as well as Hannah could, then she’d have no doubts that my growing feelings for Travis were real. But that wasn’t the problem. The issue was that Travis would never feel the same way about me. This was all a charade for him—nothing more.

I excused myself to use the bathroom. Hannah and Kelsey joined me. Fortunately neither of them said what was really on their minds when it came to Travis and me.

After we were finished, we wove through the crowd back to our table. The band was on a break and recorded music played in the background.

The first thing I noticed was the way Jennifer was watching our table with great interest. Like you would expect a defense lawyer to eye the victim just prior to interrogating them on the witness stand.

My gaze shifted to her target—Travis and the brunette now sitting in my seat. But unlike Jennifer, this woman wasn’t wearing a suit. And her low-cut top didn’t leave much to anyone’s imagination. It was also clear that she was shamelessly flirting with Travis.

Was he flirting back? Not at all. If anything, he had a slight frown on his face—possibly because he knew Jennifer was mentally writing up a report for her grandmother.

Needing to save both our asses, I squeezed past the pair and sat on Travis’s lap. There was a good chance I might have “accidentally” bumped my hip against the brunette’s head. Oops. Well, that was what she got for leaning so close to him.

“Who are you?” she asked, clearly taken aback that I had plonked myself on his lap—and disappointed she hadn’t thought of it first.

“His girlfriend. You are…?” I asked.

Her gaze switched back and forth between us—the confusion still there on her face. “But since when did you start seeing anyone?”

Was I the only one who felt that was kind of stalkerish? Was there a website that updated women on NHL players’ dating status?

“Well, he is.” I thought my voice was sweetly polite, given that she was still sitting there. In my mind I said, “Now run along.” What she actually heard was, “Can I help you with something?”

Travis tenderly kissed my neck, which was exposed thanks to my messy ponytail. My skin shivered at the delightful sensation of his lips against it.

The woman never answered my question. She pushed herself off the seat and sashayed away without so much as a good-bye. I mentally waved adios.

“Does that happen often?” I asked Travis as he kissed my neck again.

“What’s that?”

“Women hitting on you. I mean, it wasn’t like I was in the bathroom long.” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before the next words tumbled out. “I bet you’ll be happy once hockey season begins and you can go back to screwing around with other women.” Pretty impressive how I managed to keep jealousy from my tone, huh?

He shrugged and my neck instantly missed his lips. “Wouldn’t matter. I’m not into puck bunnies or women who are only interested in me because of my salary.”

“Puck bunnies? Is that as bad as it sounds?”

“Depends on your point of view. If you just want an easy lay, and you don’t mind that the puck bunny might have slept with your teammates, then they’re great. But you need to take precautions.”

“I can see that,” I said, cupping his face and giving him a tender kiss—all for Jennifer’s benefit like earlier. “You don’t exactly want an STD or unexpected pregnancy to knock you on your ass.”

Right—not quite the conversation you’d expect while I was giving him sweet kisses. But Jennifer didn’t know that.

“Well, that too,” he said. “But you also don’t want to find your naked ass doing the rounds on social media.”

I could have sworn my eyebrows jumped up my forehead. “That actually happens? Did it happen to you?”

“No—one of my teammates.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch indeed.”

“So she’s a puck bunny?” I nodded toward where the brunette had disappeared.

“No, she’s the one hoping to snare a rich husband.”

“You can tell the difference?” It wasn’t like she had a warning label stuck across her chest—although that wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

“After a while you can pretty much figure it out.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding having a girlfriend?” I asked. “Because you’re worried they’ll turn into gold diggers or crazies?” Because that made a lot of sense. It would be enough to make most smart men leery.

He nodded—but that look in his eyes? I hadn’t nailed the whole truth. There was more to why relationships scared him.

But as much as I wished to find out what it was, this wasn’t the time and place to ask him. So I whispered in his ear, “Do you think Jennifer bought that we’re happily dating each other?”

“I guess we’ll know soon enough—once she reports back to her grandmother.”