Page 30 of Perfectly Complicated
“Could’ve fooled me,” he says. “But only if you do me a favor…”
Here it comes. He’s always bargaining for something to put the odds in his favor.
“What?”
“Next lesson is at my rink.” His eyes meet mine. “Just us.”
My pulse bolts at the thought of being alone with him in his element. Only him and a million reasons why this is a bad idea. “First, that sounds suspiciously like you trying to win our bet. And second, there won’t be a next time.”
“You so sure about that?” he says. “Come on, you can’t say your intentions for today were entirely pure. This was all about our little deal.”
He has a point. I absolutely wanted to use the festival to change his mind about Christmas. But clearly that plan backfired, unless watching him do something he loves can somehow salvage this.
“I may want to win,” I admit. “But I also don’t want to disappoint the kids in the pageant. You have to findsomejoy in Christmas if you’re playing the lead in the show. This isn’t just about me.”
He shifts uncomfortably. For a second, I think maybe I’m finally getting through. “If this is for the kids…” He looks around the rink. “Let’s go make you fall on your butt.”
We rent our skates and find an empty spot on a nearby bench, where we both sit in silence. I’m fumbling with a knot in the laces when Rourke notices me struggling.
“Here, let me help,” he offers.
“Wait, you’re done?”
I stare at his feet in disbelief. Somehow, he’s already put on both skates in the time it’s taken me to get one knot untied.
“How’d you do that so fast?” I ask.
“Practice.” He takes my skate. “I do this every day.” Then he drops to one knee in front of me.
I frown. “What are you doing?” I reach for the skate, but he pulls it just out of reach.
“Let me help.”
“Really not necessary.” I reach for the skate, but he’s faster than me. He holds it out where I can’t reach it without lunging for it.
His mouth quirks. “Janie, am I going to have to hold you down while I put your skate on? Because I’m not abovedoing it.”
“And you would enjoy it way too much,” I say, then hold my foot out. “Be my guest.”
He picks up my foot much gentler than I’d expect from a man like him. He slides the skate on before lacing it up in seconds, then reaches for my other foot. This time, I’m prepared for the rush of heat that comes from his touch and the way he concentrates as he works. He cradles my ankle, and his fingers brush the bare spot of skin peeking out between my boot and pant leg, sending a rush of pleasure through me.
There’s something incredibly intimate about having this powerful man kneel before me, his dark head bent in concentration over my foot like it’s the most important thing in the world. Nick never would have done this—never would have noticed I needed help, let alone offered it.
Warmth coils in my stomach, and my skin flushes under my sweater.
Maybe it’s just the Christmas festivities.
Or maybe it’s something else entirely.
“How’s that?” he asks, finally looking up at me. And not until that moment do I realize that we’re almost at eye level with each other. So close I can count his eyelashes, memorizing the perfect curl of each one.
“Janie?” he asks, and the quirk of his mouth tells me he’s noticed I’m staring.
“It’s…um, good,” I stammer, my face growing hot. This gorgeous man kneeling in front of me, tying my skate, looking at me likethat,is making me think I should probably run the other direction.
Except I can’t. Because I’m in skates.
He sets my foot down carefully, like something you would only do for someone if you cared—not for someone who’s your Christmas rival.
