Page 66 of Axe-identally Married
I watched as he exited the ice, presumably to dump the accumulated snow, and then returned.
He swung himself down, and with a grin, he strode toward me.
“You came to watch practice?” His brows were lifted high, as if he were surprised by my presence.
“I wrapped up early, and I wanted to see you in action. Your penalty kill is looking sharp.”
“I wish.” He chuckled. “But thanks. It means a lot that you’re here.”
His dark eyes lingered on mine for a moment, his attention causing my thoughts to jumble. Before I could come up with a response, he turned and walked away, closing the boards and latching the gate.
“Arthur asked me to close up tonight. I have a few more things to do.”
“I actually brought my skates,” I said sheepishly. For days now, I’d had the urge to skate with him.
He whipped around, his eyes bright in the fluorescent lighting. “You own skates?”
I scoffed. “I’m a Mainer. Of course I do.”
“Okay,” he said, smacking the boards. “Then I’ll lace up.”
We hit the ice together and slowly made laps. It had been a while since I’d skated, but I was decent on my feet. My wool dress pants were not the best attire for this activity, but I was having too much fun to care. I’d forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in my hair and the crack of a crisp edge beneath my feet.
Cole skated backward, facing me while we chatted. He was so natural, so at ease, it was like he’d been born with blades for feet.
“You’re a good skater,” he said.
My cheeks heated at the praise. Like any overachiever, I craved compliments. “When I was a kid, I played shinny on the frozen lake with my dad and the other kids almost every weekend,” I explained. “After a few hundred falls, I got the hang of it.”
He shook his head. “That sounds awesome. I was never allowed to skate on the lake like that.”
“Why not?” I frowned. I supposed, now that I thought of it, I’d never really seen him there, even in high school, when the boys would show off to impress the girls.
“Natural ice messes up your blades, and since my dad insisted I wear fancy custom skates, he wouldn’t let me. Also, he didn’t want me to get hurt. Would say he spent too much money on my hockey career to risk a stupid injury.”
My heart ached for young Cole. I didn’t say so, but his dad was an asshole. Some of my happiest memories were of those winter afternoons on the lake. Usually, someone’s mom would show up with hot chocolate, and sometimes one of the dads would bring a boom box and we’d skate around to music. Eventually, a group of kids would gang up and start a snowball fight.
“I’m sorry you had to sit it out.”
He shrugged.
“The lake doesn’t freeze anymore,” I said. “But the pond does. I’ll take you skating there.”
A smile spread across his face. “I’d love that.”
With a quick spin, he took off, like his body was itching for that burst of speed.
Those long legs ate up the ice with every stride, his tight butt flexing in a way that made my mouth water.
Holy hell, was this a turn-on.
The way he coached, ever patient with the girls, and the way they teased and pushed him was adorable.
And the man on skates? Damn. It only amplified how gorgeous he was.
Whether it was knitting or reading or cooking or drawing out plays for his team, he could lock in and give 100 percent. And his dedication was hot as hell.
That intensity radiated from him now. We were in a giant, frozen enclosure, and somehow, this moment felt more intimate than watchingJeopardyon the couch while snuggled against him.
