Faking With Mr. Steele: A Holiday Billionaire Fake Romance by Logan Chance

Author:Logan Chance [Chance, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-11T00:00:00+00:00

“You have to take it slowly, and just let yourself glide,” Graham instructs, with his hands cradling my hips.

We left his mother’s house early this morning, and thanks to York, we’re at an indoor rink.

“Well, I’m trying,” I say, as York skates up to us, like the pro he is. He sends a fine mist of ice flying when he twists to a stop.

“Want to play a game?” he asks Graham.

“Yeah, right.” Graham laughs. “I think the odds are not in my favor. Besides, I’m busy.”

York smiles at me, and I still can't believe I’m actually in his presence. Not only is he the best player in the league—he’s the hottest. I know that sounds bad to downplay his skills on the ice, but obviously I don’t watch hockey because I love the game. Of course, he’s not Graham gorgeous. And it would be nice if Graham wasn’t either. Instead of clinging to his masculinity wrapped up in jeans and a black sweater, I cling to the wall. “I guess my secret is out,” I say.

“What, you’re really a professional skater?” Graham teases.

I laugh, almost losing control of my skates, but his large hands steady me. “My secret is I didn’t grow up in the snow like you all did. I’m a Florida girl.”

“I couldn’t tell.” He kisses my nose. It’s an intimate gesture that’s hard not to twist into something other than what it is—a ruse. It’s part of the act, since his family, and Trudy, are here to enjoy the show.

Lindsey and her kids fly along the ice like they were born on it. Is there anything this family is bad at? I really need some space to keep my head straight, especially after that crazy dream.

“Go scrimmage with York,” I tell him.

“You’ll be ok?”

“Yes, go spend time with him.”

Graham lands a soft kiss on my forehead and then skates away. I manage to get myself off the rink and out of my skates without incident, and find a seat where I can be a voyeur. I watch as Graham and his cousin pass a hockey puck back and forth between their hockey sticks. It’s just me and my mom—no cousins, no siblings, no dad—and we don’t do this whole family thing. This is all new to me. It’s all so busy, and loud. Yet, I’m finding myself loving every minute of it.

After the ice skating, we head back to Graham’s to relax before dinner.

“I have some business things to take care of before we leave,” Graham informs me when we arrive at his parent’s house. “Will you be ok on your own?”

“Of course,” I assure him. It’s actually nice he seems concerned, but again, as much distance as possible from him is probably best, lest I forget the purpose of this arrangement. “I’m just going to grab something to drink.”

Wine, preferably. He leaves me with a promise to be back soon, and I watch him ascend the staircase before unrooting myself from the foyer. When I enter the kitchen, Eleanor stands at the granite counter filling a glass of Chardonnay to the rim.

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