Page 23 of My Pucking Life

Another gasp escapes me, ending in a choked sobbing sound as the tears that were welling in my eyes begin to fall. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I praise him, flinging myself into his arms. “It's perfect,” I breathe into his chest as his strong arms hold me in place.

When I've listened to our hearts nearly beating in sync for a few moments, I pull back, wiping away any running makeup below my eyes and laughing up at him. “I'm going to have to stick to waterproof makeup with you, aren't I?”

“Only as long as they're happy tears,” he answers all too seriously.

Flipping the cap off the lens and bringing the camera to my face, I focus the dial and take an ungodly number of pictures of this beautiful surprise. I want to make sure I never forget a single detail. When I lower the camera, Roman takes that as his cue to bring me a brand-new pair of ice skates. They're not the big and bulky ones the hockey players wear. They're the petite and beautiful skates that figure skaters wear. Where those are usually white or black, these are the lightest, softest pink.

This man.

“Will you help me put them on and lace them up? Well, and teach me, I've never ice skated before.”

“Of course.”

He lowers me onto the log that I'm sure he thought to set here just for this reason, then kneels before me and removes my tennis shoes. He sets my shoes to the side and pulls the first skate onto my foot, lifting the leg warmers out of the way as he tightly laces it. He explained how it's important to lace them all the way to the top, securing them completely as they support your ankles on the thin blades, then repeated the motions on my other foot. He then pulls his skates out of thin air and turns to sit on the log beside me, performing the same steps much quicker as he's obviously used to handling his own skates.

He pops onto his feet and skate-walks our shoes over to the side-by-side adding them to a small pile of stuff in the little bed.That must have been where he had the skates on the way in. I wonder what else he has back there.When he returns to me, his hand extends to me, but there's…almost worry…in his features when he asks, “Do you trust me?”

Undoubtedly,I think, but “Yes” is all that I can get out on a breath with him looking at me like that. I lift my hand into his, and he pulls me to my feet. I begin to wobble on the thin blades of the skates, but his arm winds around my waist and steadies me completely.

“Just take your steps nice and slow,” he instructs when he begins to lead me the only half-a-dozen steps to the icy forest-floor path.

“Okay, I made it, now what?” I smile up at him, the lights brightening the forest around us.

“When you move on the ice, you don't step the way you do regularly. As you set your foot down on the ice, you'll extend that step, gliding yourself into the next step. Does that make sense?” he asks with a kindness and patience you wouldn't expect from a werewolf in the stories of our childhood.

I nod and try to mentally picture the way the men all move on the ice, but in slower motions. Imagining the instruction he gave me in my mind so I can tell my body to do that and hope that I don't land on my ass. A small giggle escapes. “Okay, Big Guy, I'm ready…Don't let me fall.”

“Never,” he instantly responds, all serious again as he prepares for me to step on the ice.

Here goes nothing.

18

Imove onto the ice backwards with my arms outstretched, ready for her to join me. The tip of her nose is a little red, but there are no other signs that she's even aware of the frosty air surrounding us. She smiles and blushes furiously. Extending her arms towards mine, she takes her first step onto the ice.

My heart soars as she glides into my grasp flawlessly and moves just like I told her to.She's a natural.

“I'm beginning to think there's nothing you can't do, Princess,” I praise her, pride ringing through my voice. I continue to move backwards in front of her so that I can watch her every move.

She's still watching her feet, unsure of her abilities yet. When she visibly relaxes, having realized she really is doing this, a megawatt smile breaks out across her face, and she repeats the words I was just thinking, “I really am doing this!” she squeals, drowning me in her happiness.

“You must have an exceptional teacher then,” I tease her.

Her eyes twinkle. “Oh, yes, I do.” She bats her eyelashes at me. “He's so strong and dreamy, ah.” She sighs dramatically, and even though I know she's talking about me, my wolf doesn't catch her sarcasm, and his jealousy floods my veins.

Leera's little giggles abruptly stop, and her eyebrows scrunch together. “Hey, what's wrong?” she asks me with concern in her eyes.

I shake my head. “What? Me? I'm great. What do you mean?” There's no way she could have known that easily how my wolf was feeling without our bond being complete.

She ticks her head to the side. “You still looked happy, but it's like I could feel…not happy feelings coming from you…” she tries to explain.

None of this makes sense, but I wonder if it has to do with whatever strange powers she seems to possess. She's mentioned being able to feel feelings a few times now, and I had thought she was referring more to intuition. I shoot off a quick message to Slate through our mind-link to make a note of it and for us to look into it at a later date.

I release a small laugh, knowing it will help ease her nerves. “I promise everything is perfect. My wolf didn't understand your sarcasm and thought you were genuinely referring to another man,” I finish with another small chuckle.

Her hand flies to her mouth on a small laugh. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know tha—”

“He's fine, Leera. Just ancient.” I laugh when he huffs at me in my head. I take that opportunity to kick my skate out, swerving it in the ice to land me right next to my little mate, making a dramatic show of clutching her hand in mine and kissing her knuckles. I love watching her blush consume her delicate skin.

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