“I hear you’ve got some of my hockey cards,” he murmurs. I laugh softly, hands skimming his ribs. “Who told you that?” “Your son.” I snort. Of course Ryan told him. “The little shit. I told him to keep that a secret.” He lifts his head to look at me with one eyebrow raised. “You wanna know a secret?” “Yeah,” I croak. “I have yours too. I keep them in my office.”
