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“Your name? Gigi? What’s that short for?”

“Geneviève,” I told him, pronouncing it the French way, so it sounded more like, “Jon-vee-ev”.

He shut his eyes and shook his head. “Right—Geneviève—” he said, and the way my name slipped off his tongue made me stop breathing. Gosh, it was possibly the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

“I’ve never heard anyone call you that?”

I shrugged, deciding to ignore his sexy accent. “Most people say it wrong and I got tired of correcting them.”

“Ahh, they butcher it? Like, ‘Jen-a-veeve’?”

“Yeah,” I said, my body shuddering at the harshness.

“Wow, I didn’t take you for a French snob,” he said, chuckling to himself.

“I’m not a snob—I just like how my name is actually supposed to sound.”

“So, it’s not Gigi Martin, it’s Geneviève Martin.” He pronounced Martin the French way, like “Mar-tahn”.

I set the puppies down—letting them toddle off as they snuffled and made the best noises ever—trying not to think about how he’d said my name again. “Yeah.”

“What I said to my brother—I didn’t realize you could understand me. I was pissed off and I acted like an imbecile. I’m sorry, Geneviève,” he said, his voice somber and full of regret. “God, you make me,” he started, then rubbed his hand on his face, “crazy. Every time I’m around you, I lose my mind and act like a fool.”

He put the puppy down and moved closer to me. Sitting thigh to thigh now, he offered me his hand. For some reason, I took it. The warmth of his touch traveled up my arm and made me feel lightheaded. “I am so sorry for being a pig. I promise you that is not who I really am.” His hand squeezed mine.

The feel of our legs touching and my hand in his—and possibly the entire glass of Bénédictine —put me in the mood to forgive. “It was worth it to watch you shit your pants for the rest of dinner.” I giggled, unable to stop. “I nearly started laughing as soon as you dropped your spoon,” I said, my giggle turning more into a belly laugh.

Beau started laughing as well. “I could hardly eat, thinking about what you were going to do to my—male parts.”

The mention of his male parts made me clench my thighs together. I did not want to be thinking about Beau Moreau’s male anything right now. Even though his hand felt wonderful and his big body beside mine felt even better—I had to stop with these stupid fantasies.

“I’m not a total prude. I know how guys talk. I just don’t want to hear it,” I said, squeezing his hand once before I regretfully slid my hand out of his grip. “Deal?”

His face was full of remorse. “Deal. It won’t happen again, I promise,” he said, making a cross over his heart which made me smile. “Now we need to talk about their offer.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Are you actually thinking about it?”

“About saying, ‘yes’? Yes, I am. Everything they’re saying is true. Starting a new team is difficult. Nearly impossible. They gave me the opportunity to finally be a captain. All these years and I was always the bridesmaid, never the bride. I feel—”

“Indebted?” I asked, knowing from following his career how he’d not once been a captain in all his years of play. I always thought it was bullshit. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must have been for him.

“Yeah.”

I sighed and agreed with him, “They’ve given me so much over the years. I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

A loud laugh sputtered out of his mouth. “Thanks a lot. I know it’ll be a huge sacrifice to be linked with me.”

“I don’t lie, Beau. Ever. I hate people who do it. It’ll feel like I’m doing something—wrong. Not because it’s with you. Because it’s not true.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, a hint of curiousity in his question.

That made me snort. “Nope. No time for a boyfriend.”

“There’s always time,” he said, pushing me with his arm.

My eyes found his. “Not for me. How about you?” I said, regretting it the second it came out. The one thing I did not want to know was anything about Beau’s love life.

“Nothing serious,” he said, making my stomach twist. Beau Moreau likely had women in every port. “So? What do you say? Wanna go steady with me, Geneviève?” His strong arm snaked around my shoulders.


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