Page 33 of SlapShot Sweetheart

“More than you could imagine.”

“I don’t know, I could imagine a lot. What do you dream about?”

“What do you dream of?” he asked hoarsely, drawn in by the gentle way she moved through the house. It didn’t feel invasive or like she was being nosy, but rather like a potential mate making sure the ‘nest’ was ready… and oh man, that thought alone made him giddy. It was like two fighters measuring each other up before engaging.

“I asked you first,” she said simply, giving him a slow look. “You’re playing games, Theo.”

“You tell me… and I’ll tell you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to share my dreams with you.”

“Too personal… or am I in them?”

“Neither,” she whispered, looking away. “But maybe both…”

“Would you feel better if I went first?”

“First, last, it doesn’t matter. I’m not telling you what I dream of.”

“Why not? It’s just me, and I don’t matter, remember?”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever said that,” she began defensively – and then sighed, stepping out onto the paver patio behind his house where the solar lights cast a glow on the stones. Her beautiful face was turned upward to the moon as she sighed softly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, before looking back at him and speaking. “Fine. Tell me what you dream of. What are your deepest darkest secrets? What does the mysterious Theo Batiste yearn for when he’s alone and closes his eyes at night?”

There was such an element of insecurity in her small voice that it was killing him not to admit how he felt. She was opening up to him, and every fiber of his being wanted to rush right through that open door despite knowing there was a pitfall on the other side. If he pushed too hard, she would run blindly in the other direction, and he knew it. Instead of admitting what was hidden in his heart, he decided to stick with facts and see where it went.

“I was an only child growing up and always wished that I had as big of a family as some of my cousins.Ma tantehas seven children, and my other aunt has five. My parents didn’t have me until they were a little bit older. Mymerealways called me herbébé miraculeux… it means ‘miracle baby’. She was forty-two and not in the best of ‘ealth, but oh so proud of me,” he chuckled softly, remembering as he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from pulling Aimee into his arms to hug her in the moonlight. “She went to all of my games, cheered, and I used to fly her down to see me play.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he replied softly, looking up at the moon. “You asked why I bought this ‘ouse – it’s because I want a family someday. To ‘ear my children yelling down the halls, playing in the backyard, and to ‘ave them cheer for their papa…”

His voice trailed off as he waited for the blistering comment to come – except silence hung in the air between them. Slowly, he turned to see her watching him, waiting as she stood there waiting.

“I need to ask you something,” she breathed, her eyes haunting and searching. “Please don’t joke or tease, but give me an honest answer.”

“Of course.”

“Did you leave the notes on my door, Theo?”

Her voice was steady, even, almost to the point that it was cool or alien. Her eyes were the only inclination of what she was thinking or feeling – and at that moment, she closed those windows, shutting him off as she took a deep breath, effectively removing any clues to the inner workings of her mind. He stood there, almost in a panic, wondering if she’d caught him – and how she would react.

“Answer me.”

And self-preservation kicked in.

“No. Why would I?” he retorted, trying to sound all brusque and confident like he wouldn’t do something as childish as leaving a note… even though he had. He had left every note, written each from his heart, bought the kittens, left the flowers, and arranged for someone to serenade her just so she didn’t know he was behind it. He was drowning in a pool of love that he felt hopelessly lost inside of – and terrified someone would drain the reservoir beneath him without warning.

People talked about a ‘make it or break it’ moment – and he knew this was his. Whatever he said now would either create that bond between them or shatter it. If he admitted to the romantic stuff and she wasn’t ready, then he knew without a doubt that Aimee would shut him down. She would slam the doors to her heart closed before melting the key into any otherinanimate object. And if she was ready to change their dynamics, would he be man enough to make her happy?

“Why would you indeed…”

Mortal Kombat!

Fatality…

Finish him!

Waaa… waaa… waaa.

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