Page 103 of Ice Rebel

“Your fiancée.”

My breathing was far more labored than normal, all because of the raging desire that never left. “A pretty special woman. Ready to learn a few hockey moves?”

“I’m all for it.”

I found it interesting that in the next fifteen minutes highlighting basic hockey moves, including how she should be holding the stick, I was having more fun than I’d had in years. Maybe because there was no pressure, just sheer fun like when I’d been a child. My dad had never pushed us, never been that dad yelling at coaches and threatening those who didn’t promote his kids to whatever position.

He’d stood by quietly allowing us to make our choices. That’s the kind of dad I wanted to be. If I was so lucky as to have kids.

Just seeing her eyes light up the first time she’d managed to hit the puck, which had been a feat since she’d almost fallen five times, had made my day.

And hearing her laughter was better than any cheers from fans.

“I’m ready.” Her words caught me off guard. I was too entrenched in memories at that point.

“I shudder to ask.”

Chelsea’s come-hither look was as adorable as when she wrinkled her nose. “You haven’t been a good enough boy yet.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you ready for?”

“A shoot off or whatever you call it.” She was steadier on her feet than she should be. I was beginning to wonder if she’d duped me into thinking she’d never been on skates.

I skated closer to where she was standing. She pointed to the net. “If I make the basket, you’re going to do anything I want for the rest of the night.”

“That’s basketball.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

While moving the puck, I skated around her in a full circle, taking a shot, howling when it flew into the net smack in the center. “Like that?”

“Just like that.” She had some kind of confidence.

“Why don’t you allow an expert to show you how it’s done.” As always, there’d been a bin of pucks ready to go. It was time to show her what I could do both on and off the ice.

Within seconds, I was lost in the moment, moving all over the ice, enjoying the way it felt to be back on my home turf. I took shot after shot, missing a few, a couple on purpose. When I finally came to another hockey stop close to her, she certainly didn’t seem impressed.

In fact, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she took a deep breath and I’d be damned if she didn’t mirror one of my signature moves. Not exactly, but enough I knew what she was doing and with the ease of a player who’d been playing the game for a while, she found her shot and took it.

Damn it if the puck didn’t stay in line without going out of bounds, flipping a couple of times before slamming into the net.

I stood with my mouth open, shocked as hell. Most kids I’d taught in summer camp couldn’t make a shot like that in the two months they were under my tutelage. “Shit.”

She managed to skate around me, flipping her hair as she did. “And that, boy toy, is how it’s done.”

I’d had enough of her sassy mouth, grabbing her around the waist and pitching her over my shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying out ice skating for a change.” My grin was ear to ear as I spun around in several circles while she pummeled her fists against my back.

“Put me down.”

“Not yet.” I even lifted a leg behind me while lifting her into the air. Her squeal delighted me more than any sound so far.

“You are so going to get it.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”