Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2) Page 6
“So she thought Nat would be a bad influence on you?” he asked.
Ann shrugged, her gaze focused on her food. “I’m not sure she even considered that I’d want to know Nathalie.” She drew a small circle in her rice with her fork. “I don’t have another sister, just two younger brothers. And they’re more like my parents.”
“How so?”
“Religious. Extremely religious.”
He frowned a little. “How extreme is extreme?”
“Extreme. Fanatical.” She shook her head and scooped up some guacamole on a chip. “They don’t understand why I want to study genetics.”
“Because it’s a cool field of science,” he said, making sure to use the matter-of-fact tone that amused her. He was rewarded for his efforts with her soft smile.
“I’m glad you think so. It’s nice talking with someone outside work who actually understands.”
“I love that you entertain my alien genetics questions.”
She chuckled, the sound making his muscle tense and his heart pound. God he loved when she laughed. And because he loved it so much, he steered the conversation away from her family and back to easier topics.
“I’m sorry you missed the ice skating today,” he said. “It was a great event.”
“I would have spent most of it on my backside anyway.”
“I like your backside. I’d never let you damage it.”
She blushed, and it was all he could do not to pull her across the table for a kiss.
“How about a rain check on the skating,” he said. “I’d still like to teach you.” Mostly because it would be an excellent excuse to keep his hands on her.
“It could be hazardous.” She smiled when she said it, but the smile dropped away suddenly, and she looked back at her plate.
“I’ll take my chances.” Brody frowned at her sudden mood shift.
She made a noncommittal noise and shoveled food into her mouth.
“I promise to take care of you on the ice,” he said seriously.
She nodded but didn’t meet his gaze.
Worry tightened in his stomach again, worry he couldn’t explain, but it kept coming back to poke at him. Something there…something she wasn’t saying. The fact that she was keeping something from him, something that kept putting that distressed expression in her eyes, bothered him a lot. Every competitive, curious bone in his body wanted to push her for answers.
But another part of him just wanted to see her smile again.
That part won out. He moved on to a topic he knew would keep the grin on her face. Food. To his relief, she relaxed again, and he breathed a little easier.
Once the main course dishes were whisked away, they ordered coffees and one dessert to share.
“You’re in training,” she said primly.
Which made him chuckle. “That has never been a reason to give up dessert.”
“I’m having a lot of fun tonight, Brody. Thanks.”
“Told you I was fun.”
She smiled. “Good thing I turned out not to be a psychotic killer, huh?”
He chuckled. But the reference to their first meeting was yet another reminder that she was hiding something. He tried to ignore his nagging curiosity. Every time they veered toward the subject, she shut down on him. He wanted to keep things easy and light. He wanted her relaxed.
Yet concern that whatever she was keeping from him might be serious, and could affect their growing relationship, was like a spur in his heal. He couldn’t seem to let it go.
“Can I ask a question?” he said, then wanted to bite his tongue.
“Sure.”
He took a deep breath and dived in. “Why did I have to wait a week to call you after our first date? You told Nathalie she could give me your number, but then you asked me wait. Why?”
Her face closed up instantly, and that little crease between her brows reappeared. He cursed silently and with a lot of feeling. Damn it. He’d known that would happen. He shouldn’t have brought it up. But he couldn’t take it back now either.
“What did Nathalie tell you about that?” she asked.
“Nothing. She said I should ask you. Although, judging by your reaction, I’m not sure that was such a hot idea.”
She forced a half-smile, but it fell away quickly. “I can’t…I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Boyfriend? Ex-husband? Ex-girlfriend? Stalker? Current husband? IRS? Mob?”
Her frown turned to the adorably confused expression he loved. That felt like a minor win.
She shook off his list of possibilities. “Nothing like that. It’s personal, though.”
He desperately wanted to know the truth, to ask the next logical question. But watching her face close up was worse than not knowing. His knee-jerk reaction was to make a joke of the whole thing and move on, as he’d been doing all evening.
It still bothered him, though. He had a feeling whatever had happened in that week was important enough to get between him and Ann.
“Personal…in that you don’t want to talk to me about it yet?” he asked, trying to balance his curiosity against caution.
“We’ve been on exactly four dates. We met less than a month ago. We’re nowhere near the stage where I can tell you everything about me.” She looked down at the table, toying with her coffee cup. “Not sure I’ll ever be at that stage.”
She murmured the last so quietly, he wasn’t sure she was talking to him anymore. His heart hurt at her desolate tone. He could practically feel the loneliness in it, and that tore at him because she didn’t have to be lonely. Even if things didn’t work out between them, she was too wonderful to be alone.
“Well, I have secrets, too, you know,” he said, defaulting to light humor, hoping to erase the sadness in her expression. He just couldn’t take it anymore. “Deep, dark secrets.”
Her lips quirked up. “You? I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“You put everything out on the surface. I’m not sure you could keep a secret if you wanted to.”
“That’s not true.” He purposely infused his voice with exaggerated offense. “I have a big secret.”
“Really? And that would be?”
He leaned across the table, looking left and right before focusing on her. “I have an extensive collection of romantic comedy movies,” he whispered.
Her laughter bubbled out in a short burst. The sound settled his nerves and sent a wave a pleasure through him.
She shook her head. “First of all, I’m not sure why that’s a secret.”
“I’m a big, mean hockey player. I can’t be caught with a rom-com collection.”
Truthfully, he didn’t care, and he was pretty sure she realized that since they talked about his romance novel collection all the time. But he liked that the humor had returned to her expression. He was willing to say whatever it took to keep it there.
She snorted. “Second of all,” she said, “you’ve just confirmed you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”
“OK. You got me. But I can keep one if necessary. I mean, you should hear the stuff I know about my brother.”
She laughed. “If you tell me, will he be upset?”
“Hell, yeah. It’ll tarnish your view of him before you’ve even met him. Wait, I like that idea. OK, so this one time, when we were six years old…” He went on to tell her some of the most embarrassing stories he could remember about his twin—one of which was actually his own embarrassing moment, but he wasn’t about to admit that.
By the time he was finished, she was grinning, chuckling, and a few times had laughed heartily. He made a mental note not to ask about that first week again. At least not until he was more sure of their relationship.
Realizing he wanted a relationship with Ann wasn’t particularly shocking. He’d barely been able to think of anything else since meeting her. He liked Ann. A lot. And not just because he found her adorable and sexy. He enjoyed spending time with her and wanted more. As much as s
he’d give him.
But that first week, the mystery around it, felt like a threat hanging over their heads, just waiting to destroy the good thing they had going.
And there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it.
Chapter Ten
Ann waved her arms about trying to catch her balance, teetering precariously on the thin line of steel that was supposed to be holding her upright. She flailed, backpedaled, and would have dropped hard onto the ice, but Brody’s strong arms caught her around the waist.
Cheerful music blared through the air as skaters with significantly better skills than she had swirled past. The Bryant Park open air rink was full of people laughing and shouting, gliding and spinning over the ice. The November air was brisk, but the day was bright and sunny. Around the rink, adorable wooden house stalls that made up the holiday market lined the park’s stone paths.
The atmosphere was cheerful, the air filled with scents of delicious sweets, cinnamon, and the exquisite meals being served at the open-air, two-story restaurant set up at the corner of the rink. On the opposite side, the long, white tent where the skates were stored and people waited for their session on the ice glowed as brightly in the sun as the ice itself.
Ann glared down at her skates as she clung onto Brody for dear life. This would be a lot more fun if they were sitting outside the rink, drinking hot chocolate, and watching other people fall on their asses.
“This is impossible,” she said.
Brody laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it. You just need more practice.”
She made a face. “Right.”
Despite her worry about melting the rink, she had agreed to let Brody try teaching her how to ice skate. Her “headache” excuse last time had had nothing to do with a headache and everything to do with the terrible training session she’d had the day before with Nathalie’s father, Mr. Mendez.
They were trying to teach her how to start the fire on purpose and control it, an effort that went against everything she’d spent her life trying to do. She’d failed miserably. And repeatedly. The session had gone so badly, she’d been sure if she went to the ice rink the next day, she’d turn it into a swimming pool. And then hurt Brody when he tried to help her. The thought of hurting him—or having him see her fire and turn away from her like she was cursed—was too much to take.
But she’d known she’d disappointed him by not showing up. She hated doing that. Hated that the fire kept interfering. So when he’d declared their next date would be ice skating, she’d given in.
In truth, she wanted to prove to herself she could manage it. And she’d worked her ass off during the week in between their last date and this one to ensure she could keep her hands cool.
Starting the fire on purpose, controlling it to that degree… Well, she still had a lot of work to do there. But for now, she was determined to have this date, this experience without hurting anyone.
Or ending up in a swimming pool instead of an ice rink.
She hadn’t realized how hard the actual skating would be, though. Her legs wobbled again, even though she wasn’t moving, and she tightened her grip on Brody.
“Didn’t you ever try this as a kid?” he asked.
“I grew up in Texas. When would I have bothered with ice skating?”
He eased her away from the support of his big body so she had to stand on the skates again. Her ankles felt like rubber as she tried to find a way to balance.
“That’s no excuse,” he said. “There are rinks all over Texas.”
She didn’t release her death grip on his arms but did try to stay upright. She stood that way for exactly two seconds before her feet, of their own accord and through no effort on her part, flew out from under her. Brody caught her full weight again, holding her close as she growled in irritation.
His chuckle didn’t help her embarrassment, but the fact that his arms were around her went a long way toward making her feel okay about her inability to stand on her own. In fact, she rather liked the excuse to have his arms around her. She leaned into him, savoring the solid strength of his big body, even though doing so was risky.
“How did you learn to skate?” she asked as they adjusted their stance.
He shifted to holding her with one arm around her waist, keeping her tight to his side but with enough room for her to stand mostly on her own. Her ankles wobbling, she made an attempt at a step forward. When she didn’t fall, she tried another step. Not exactly skating, but at least she was staying on her feet this time. Sort of. With a lot of help from Brody.
“My dad took us to the rink,” he said as they slowly made their way across the smooth, glossy surface. “First time when we were ten. We’d been getting into a few too many dust ups with other kids, and he was trying to find us a sport to channel our energies.”
“You were fighting even as a child?” She wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. He was so full of emotion, it still amazed her.
He held her a little tighter as she wobbled again. When she didn’t fall, she grinned up at him in triumph. His answering look sent tingles of awareness across her skin. She looked away quickly to concentrate on her breathing and on keeping her hands cool.
“We got picked on a lot,” he said, his tone easy and relaxed.
“You got picked on? Who would be stupid enough to do that?”
She smiled at his bark of laughter. She might worry about the intensity of his emotions, but she did love hearing him laugh.
“Connor and I were pretty gangly and awkward when we were kids—growing so fast our bodies had trouble adjusting and staying coordinated. There were a lot of clumsy moments. And Connor was… He wasn’t as outgoing as I was. The bullies tended to go after him first.”
“And you jumped in to defend him,” she guessed. So he’d been like this his entire life, the one to jump into a fight to save a brother. The story explained a lot about him. “What happened?”
He shrugged, as if it weren’t a bad memory. “We got into a lot of fights. Ridiculous fights that rarely resulted in anything worse than bloody noses, but it happened so often my parents knew they had to do something about it. Connor and I were so much bigger than the other kids, my parents were afraid we’d end up really hurting someone.”
“But you were the ones being picked on! Why didn’t anyone stop the bullies?”
“Oh, they worked on that part, too. Lot of suspensions from school handed out, that kind of thing.” He waved away the bullies as if they were nothing. “But as far as my parents were concerned, what Connor and I really needed was an outlet for our energy. And maybe something that would help us adjust to our lanky bodies. My dad thought skating, and hockey, might do the trick. Give us a team sport, a safe place to go, and a way to train some coordination into us.”
She wanted to comfort the little boy that had to fight to defend himself and his twin brother. Before she could consider how to do that, though, the balance she’d managed to maintain for a full five minutes abandoned her and she slipped again.
She clung to Brody like a life line as he wrapped her up in arms, pulling her up flush against his chest. This close thoughts of kid bullies fled. All she could think about was how good he smelled, how near he was, how easy it would be to kiss him.
A group of teenagers skated past just then, hooting and whistling. “Kiss her! Kiss her, dude!”
She winced and felt her cheeks heating. Brody just smiled as he helped her regain her footing.
But before she could put any distance between them, he leaned in close and said, “I think those kids had a good idea.”
He kissed her softly, just a gentle brush of lips, but she felt the contact all the way through her body, tingling along her nerves, sparking very dangerous heat.
She resisted the urge to melt against him, to take the kiss deeper, only because her hands inside her gloves were feeling a little too warm. The reminder that she still hadn’t mastered control of her fire had her easing away, reluctantly.
As they laughed and stumbled to the break in the wall—and freedom from the demon ice skates—Ann realized she was in deep with Brody now. She liked him. A lot. And it was getting harder and harder to resist doing something about those feelings.
She still couldn’t invite him up to her apartment, though. She wasn’t ready for sex, despite being more than a little desperate to take Brody to bed. Their goodnight kisses left her reeling, almost drunk with need, and she wanted him more than any other man she’d ever met.
She’d only risked sex twice in her life, and both times had been bad because she’d had to suppress her emotions and reactions to keep from catching the sheets on fire. She didn’t want that with Brody, not when she was so sure they could be good together. Every time he kissed her only confirmed that.
Until she was more sure of her control, though, she didn’t dare relax. And if she couldn’t relax fully, she’d only disappoint them both.
He helped her remove her skates, a process which had her entire body tingling. He knelt on one knee on the padded ground in front of the bench where she sat, unlacing her boots, his big fingers working the skate loose with ease. Her breathing sped up. God, having his hands on her legs was like a kind of torture. Having him remove even something as innocuous as footwear felt like a seduction, a promise of what could be. When he looked up at her from his position, his lips lifted in that knowing smile, she felt the look all the way to her core.
She held her hands in her lap, her grip tight, and concentrated on her breathing so she didn’t start a fire she still didn’t know how to stop. Her leg muscles were aching, her ankles sore from attempting something she’d never done before. The November air was brisk and sharp, the ice rink behind them adding an additional chill. And none of it was a match for the heat in Brody’s eyes.