True Love and Other Disasters by Rachel Gibson

her head and said, “I don’t particularly like the idea of creating friction to sell tickets, but you don’t see me whining and storming out like a baby.”
    That was probably because she didn’t have to take off her shirt. Although it certainly wouldn’t have been her first time. “Let me make a few things really clear for you, Mrs. Duffy. First, I’m not a baby and I never whine.” Not even when he fractured bones or pulled tendons. Hell, he’d finished a game against the Rangers with a broken foot. “Second, I play hockey. That’s what you pay me to do. Nowhere in my contract does it stipulate that I have to appear shirtless on billboards and the sides of buses.”
    “If you don’t want to take your shirt off, I think that’s fine.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Some people aren’t comfortable with their own sexuality. I understand, but the least you could do is listen to Tim and Bo. They’ve obviously put a lot of work into this, and in such a short time, too.” She turned her attention to the PR director and his assistant. “Thank you.”
    “Sure.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “Mr. Savage is just being unreasonable,” she added.
    Comfortable with his sexuality? Did she just call him gay?
    “Ten minutes,” Tim assured him. “Give us ten minutes to change your mind.”
    To prove her wrong, and that he wasn’t completely unreasonable, he moved back to his chair and sat. “Ten minutes.” They could talk until they dropped dead from exhaustion, but they weren’t going to change his mind.

Chapter 6
    T ilt your chin down just a little, Faith, and look right here.” Faith dipped her chin and raised her gaze to the photographer’s hand a few inches above his head. “Keep your eyes on me, Ty,” he added.
    Inside the players’ lounge, Faith stood in the center of the big Chinooks logo and slightly behind the captain of her hockey team. Almost a week had past since she and Ty had sat in the PR meeting. Four days since the Chinooks had beaten Vancouver in game six and advanced to the next round in the playoffs.
    It was after 7 P.M ., long after the rest of the team had gone home for the day. The lounge had been stripped of furnishings and filled with cameraequipment. Faith’s mother made herself useful by holding up a white light reflector. For once, Faith had been able to persuade her mother to leave her dog at home. Although she did fear that Pebbles might retaliate by chewing up the furniture.
    “A little more to the right, Faith.”
    For the shoot, she wore a tight black pencil skirt, black silk Georgette blouse with a black camisole, and a pair of red crocodile pumps. It had been a while since she’d stepped out of the shadows and into the spotlight. She felt a bit out of practice. It had been a while since she’d had her hair and makeup professionally done, and she felt a bit overdone. Everything from the arch of her brow to her red lips was perfect. In fact, everything in the room was perfect, from the lighting to the photographer. Everything except the 240 pounds of unhappy man standing directly in front of her. Heat and displeasure rolled off Ty in waves. His arms were folded across his chest; a posture she’d seen him take in the past when he was less than pleased about something. Today that something was getting his picture taken with her.
    He wore a plain T-shirt that matched the darker blue of his eyes and a pair of worn Levi’s. He hadn’t allowed them to put makeup on his face or even a little gel in his hair. He was being a complete pain in the ass, but by contrast, he smelled wonderful, like soap and skin, and Faith had anodd little urge to lean forward a bit and smell his shirt or the side of his neck.
    The photographer snapped the picture. “Put your hand on his shoulder,” he said and adjusted the lens. “Valerie, tilt that up a little. That’s it.”
    Other than the occasional handshake, Faith hadn’t touched another man since she’d agreed to marry Virgil. She