“You could do it here. A lot of the wives and guys on the team volunteer and have their own non-profits. I’m sure any one of them would be happy to help you get started. Or help out.”

“You think?” Excitement lit her eyes, making her vibrant greens sparkle.

“Yeah, Emmersyn. After everything they’ve already done to help us, you think they wouldn’t?”

Me included. I was starting to realize I’d give her anything she needed—in business or for the rest of her life.

Twenty-One

Emmersyn

Kane stood at the bottom of the stairs with his rolling suitcase handle in his hand, carry-on draped over his shoulder.

It should have been illegal for a man to look so damn good in a suit. His was blue, too bright to be navy, with black pinstripes running through it that had a slight shimmer when the light caught them just right. A black dress shirt with the collar opened at the base of his throat, and black shining dress shoes with no socks, I’d almost swallowed my tongue when he came downstairs.

There I was, in sweat shorts and a short sleeve, oversized white shirt that draped off one shoulder.

We got back from walking around the Bellagio and down to Caesar’s Palace. Kane stopped to play a few games, won a thousand dollars in fifteen minutes at the craps table, handed me two hundred and I walked away with five hundred from a roulette table. Around us, people had occasionally clicked our picture. Whether they recognized him from playing hockey, or me from my relationship with Lincoln, or all of the above, I wasn’t sure, but Kane made sure we put on a good show.

His hand was either holding mine or at my lower back. He smiled down at me and wiggled his brows and silently requested I play along.

I’d rolled to my feet at one point when he won at craps, kicked one up behind me and placed my hands on his shoulders as he bent down and kissed the corner of my lips.

“Here you go, baby,” he’d muttered and settled his winnings into my hand.

Oh, if only he could get over Ava. Although, I was so turned on, from being around him so much, from living with him and getting to know him, I was starting to think that might not even matter.

We’d live together for a year. Yeah, he’d told me I could go elsewhere and be discreet… but who would I ever find that was better than the man currently in front of me, dark hair styled and swept perfectly to the side, checking his phone before sliding it into a pocket in his suit coat.

“I need to get going.”

I hoped like hell he didn’t see the lust shining like a neon light all over me. “Good luck.”

His lips twitched. “You’ll be okay here? You’ve got the cars, and I know the wives get together sometimes to watch the games.”