Page 85 of Never Sleigh Never
“Thanks. Every year, I try to think of new, fun ideas for the community to enjoy.” Her skates chop at the ice as we move along the boards.
“I could help you with your skating, if you want.”
“This wall is doing a pretty good job.”
I laugh as she inches herself, hand over hand, along the edge of the rink. I push forward until I’m in front of her, skating backward.
“Show-off.” She smirks. “I have to give credit where credit is due. Your rink idea was really great, and starting the Mount Holly Cup Tournament drew a lot of attention.”
“Former hockey player rediscovers hockey,” I deadpan. “Real creative.”
“I suppose.” She makes it three careful shuffles before her blade betrays her. I dart forward, catching her before she faceplants. She lands against my chest, soft and warm, her breath misting between us. “Thanks,” she mutters, “That could have been bad.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved you.” I wink, then nod at her feet. “Come on. Try again. Glide, Snowflake.”
“Walking works just fine for me.”
I skate backward, extending a hand. “Just try. Come to me.” She hesitates, then pushes off the wall. Her eyes stay glued to her feet. “There you go. You got it.”
After a few feet, she peers up at me. “Oh my god. I’m skating!” Her smile hits me square in the chest. Then her blade zings sideways. She flails, I reach for her, but she overcompensates. We hit the ice in a heap; Brie sprawled on top of me.
“Oomph,” I wheeze, all the air exiting my lungs.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
I meet her eyes and forget what pain is. “Yeah. I think so.” My hands find her waist, drifting to the sweet curve of her hips. I never expected to find myself falling for someone after Brooke passed away, but more and more every day, Brie is showing me life continues whether we want it to or not, and that happiness is real again. I tilt my chin up, so my lips are centimeters away from hers. One by one, the rink lights shut off, shrouding us in darkness.
A beat of silence passes before she laughs. “I forgot the timers.”
My fingers flex against the soft fabric covering her ass. “What do you say we get out of here?”
She bites her lip. “Want to come over to my place?”
“And my truck?” Might as well keep up the secretly-hating-each-other ruse. Even though I think the town is catching on. But I’m enjoying the bubble we’re in. It feels safe.
“Park it in my garage.”
After leaving the rink, I follow Brie to her house. On the drive, I make a phone call to my bookkeeper to arrange an anonymous donation to the Mount Holly Festival. Now she won’t have to worry about budget problems. When I arrive at Brie’s house, I step into the foyer from the garage. A pungent scent hits me in the face. “It smells very piney in here.”
Brie tosses me a grin over her shoulder. “Welcome to my tour of trees.”
She shrugs out of her coat, and I catch it halfway down her arm, tugging it free and hanging it beside mine.
“This is the first stop.” She sweeps her arm over her modest living room. A TV hangs on the wall with a couch and loveseat angled in front. With her hand in mine, she leads me to an eight-foot tree in front of a bay window. “This is my traditional tree that I have every year.”
“Wow. This is quite the tree. A little more elaborate than mine.” My gaze roams over her intricately decorated Christmas tree. Not an ornament is out of place.
“It is my favorite holiday, so I go a little over the top.” Next, she leads me into the kitchen. “This is my baking tree. I decorated it with ornaments related to baking.”
My gaze wanders over the gingerbread man, apron, and rolling pin ornaments. “You just had these lying around?”
“It was a great excuse to purchase new ornaments. Plus, I couldn’t have a naked tree.”
“Nobody wants a naked tree,” I agree solemnly.
Her laugh bubbles up, soft and sweet. “Come on. The tour continues.”
We exit the kitchen and stroll down a short hallway and through a doorway. A perfectly made bed sits against a wall in front of us. I lean down, lips brushing her ear. “If you wanted me in here, all you had to do was ask. No Christmas tree bribes required.”
