Cold as Ice (19 page)

“So you're not bossy?” Devin asks. “Hard to believe.”

“Come on!” She rolls her eyes. “It depends on the situation. I'm opinionated at work. It's natural.”

“And you're not at any other time?”

“I don't think so.”

“Describe yourself.”

“I'm devoted to what I love. I'm caring, compassionate and strong-minded.”

“What do you love?” he asks, glancing her way.

She bats an eye.

He shrugs. “I assume your job. That's undeniable.”

“It is?” Why is she so surprised?

“Yeah, it shows.”

She can't wipe the smile off her face. “I can't help it.”

“Nothing wrong with it. I love hockey. What can I say?”

“I guess.”

“And you love your family. That's obvious. What else?”

It takes a minute for Carla to think about it. “Belgian chocolate, red wine . . .”

“Nature walks, sunny afternoons . . .”

“The spa.” She laughs.

“Tell me, what do you love to do?” She doesn't take her eyes off him.

“Besides hockey?” he asks with a quick glance. “Hanging out with friends, lounging on the beach, going to concerts . . .” He stares at her. It feels like a second too long. Enough time to observe the slightly angled eyeteeth that are symmetrical. His dark eyes appear to have a fleck of gold in them, twinkling like stars at night. She closes her eyes for a second to control the sexual desires she has for him.

“I like this. Fresh air. Nature.”

“Devin Miller?” a voice cries out.

They're approached by two young people, making it hard to keep walking.

“Hi, there!” Devin says.

“Can I get an autograph?” The teenager pats at his pockets. “How 'bout a picture?” He takes out his smartphone and hands it to Carla. “Do you mind taking a picture of us?”

“No problem.” She takes his phone and clicks away. Carla hands his phone back to him. They say good-bye and are stopped again before they can even start a conversation.

“Devin Miller! No way!” the young twentysomething shrieks as he stops. Devin shakes his hand. “Welcome to Vancouver.”

“Thank you,” Devin says.

The guy asks for a picture too, and Devin agrees. As they finish up with him, more people swarm to them like bees to honey. Graciously, Devin honors his fans by signing autographs and posing for photos.

“We better get going,” he says to Carla. “I'll have to put more time on the meter.”

It's the only way he can escape the crowd and head back toward the steep path.

“There's another way up,” she says and rushes to an opening. Devin is right behind her. She hears his name being called again and again, but they ignore it and hurry to the top, where the path leads to street parking.

Carla starts to laugh. This is too much. It is common for her to get recognized and to speak with people on a community level, but not like this. Not like a celebrity, where she has to fear having her clothes ripped off or being mauled.

She holds her stomach, the muscles tightening and contracting from the enjoyment of his company and the adventure they're on together.

Devin steps to the top, laughing too. “That was something else.” He pushes his hand over his forehead to the back of his head.

“The hat and sunglasses might be a good idea,” she teases as they get into his car. The doors lock and she feels safe again. No one will come close. It's just her and Devin. She takes in a deep breath, exhales and looks over at him.

“Where to now?” He starts his car.

“I don't know, but we should get moving unless you'd like to talk to those people.” Carla looks ahead at the group rushing toward them.

Devin puts his car in reverse. “I don't feel like it.”

They drive around the park. Carla points out the sights. Her cell phone buzzes.

“Your city is beautiful,” he says.

Carla picks up her purse and slips her hand inside to grab her phone. Her fingers touch the envelope and a jolt of guilt hits her. She should give him the letter. Now? He'd have to pull over. The news is too big to deliver while driving.

“I like it.” Her words are meek. She looks out her window. She has to give him the letter today. Where? “Have you seen Science World?”

“I've driven by.”

“How about the mountains? Whistler? Grouse?”

He shifts his lips while staring ahead. “Grouse? No.” He glances at her and then back on the road. “Do you feel like a drive?”

“Sure. How long will it take?”

“Twenty minutes? Half an hour?”

“Let's go.”

There will be an opportunity to give him the letter at the base of the mountain. She has to. This is her only chance. What will he say? Will he be angry Keith contacted her? Will he be sad his dad didn't contact him first? Will Devin be mad at her for getting involved?

They drive out of the park and make their way to the mountain, following signs and making small talk as they go.

“Amazing how close the mountains are,” Devin comments. “I missed the West Coast.”

“We take it for granted. Surrounded by mountains and ocean.”

“I don't know why anyone would want to leave.”

She bites her bottom lip. If only she'd gotten the job in Toronto.

“Turn here,” she says. The paved road turns to gravel. “I wasn't thinking. Maybe we shouldn't go up the mountain. You don't have the proper wheels for it.”

“I should have driven my Range Rover.”

“That would have been a better choice. There's snow up ahead.”

He pulls over and puts the car in park. “What do you say we head up the mountain another time?”

“I've seen it, been there lots. Sure. . . .”

He looks around at the trees surrounding them and then at her. “I can drive farther. I'm sure it's fine. It's a car,” he says gruffly and starts. “What can happen, right?”

She smiles and leans her head on her hand, resting it on the door. “Up to you.” The time is close for her to give him the letter. She can tell him to pull over again and talk to him. Get it over with. Her stomach flips as they reach the parking lot.

“I guess it wasn't that bad, after all,” he says, pulling into the closest parking spot, leaving lots of room between his car and the next spot beside them.

She gets out of his silver, two-door prize possession and already there are people coming close.

An older man approaches them. “Nice car. Jeez, you don't see many of these around,” he says, scratching his head. The man walks around the car, checking out every detail.

Another person walks up to the car, asking Devin if he likes driving it, and a third guy asks if he really is who he thinks he is.

“Yes, I am,” Devin says proudly. Suddenly it's like a windstorm, the guys are taking pictures of Devin and his car and getting autographs.

“Thanks, guys,” Devin says. “I hope it will be okay here while we take a little walk.”

“I'll keep my eye on it for you,” the older of the guys says. “I'm waiting for my wife. She's not going to believe you're here. Our kids are big fans too. They won't believe the picture of us.” The guy is smiling and gushing like a boy.

“Nice meeting you,” Devin says and gives him a wave. He grabs Carla's hand and puts an extra bounce in his steps to hurry along.

She looks up at him. The feel of his strong, thick hand wrapped around hers makes her petite hand feel smaller.

“Where should we go?” he asks.

“There's a coffee shop,” she suggests. “I'll grab us some drinks.”

“I'll come with you,” he says.

“Are you sure? I don't want you hounded by people before we can get out the door.”

“It'll be fine.”

“Okay, then.”

He drops her hand and she walks ahead, opening the coffee shop door. Devin follows.

Carla stands in line and as the line moves, she notices Devin is no longer behind her. He is talking to a couple of girls who are shaking a hip and playing with their long hair and laughing.

“What can I get for you?” the barista asks, her hands on the till, waiting to punch in the order.

“I'll have a large coffee.”

“Is that everything?”

“No,” Carla says and looks over at Devin to get his attention. He takes a step forward and then is caught in the conversation. He is not making eye contact with Carla.

Can't he be considerate? He didn't come here alone.
She blows out a breath. “Okay, make that two large coffees, room for milk, please.”

Carla steps to the side to wait for their drinks.

Devin walks briskly to her. He takes out his wallet. “How much is it?”

“Don't worry about it,” she says hastily, picking up the paper cups from the counter. “You don't know what I ordered for you.” She hands him one of the cups.

“Coffee. That's what I like.” His voice is so full of sarcasm it makes Carla snicker.

“That's what I like too.”

“How did you know?” he asks, handing her a lid from the dispenser and placing a lid on his. Devin opens the door and allows Carla to walk through before following.

“A guess.” She brings the cup up to her nose to smell the aroma. It's too hot to drink. “We'll walk up here,” she says, eyeing a spot to give him the letter. This is too much. How should she start the conversation? Is he going to get so mad at her that he'll leave her stranded here? Will he hug her and thank her for helping him? Her chest is tight as she thinks of the possibilities. Will he hate her? He will, she thinks. She will never be able to interview the team again. He'll make it a living nightmare for her. She'll have no choice but to move away; but then, bad news follows. How will this affect her career?

She has to take a drink to moisten her throat. She needs a warm-up. How can she talk about his family? Her mind is racing as she thinks of possible questions.

“Those girls you were talking to . . . did you know them?” she asks, trying to think of anything to ask to get him to start talking.

He gives her a smile that makes her forget what she was about to ask. His lips are so rich-looking, lush and large, that she only wants to feel them on hers. What has gotten into her? She can't stop thinking about him sexually. It's been too long since she's been held by someone who wants her, and she craves that affection like a forbidden dessert.

“Those girls?” he says with a chuckle. “They thought I was someone else.”

Carla lets out a giggle. She can't help it. “And did you tell them who you are?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Carla attempts a sip of her coffee as they walk under the Skyride, away from everyone.

Devin looks up. “We should ride that. I bet it's a great view.”

“It is,” she says, sipping her coffee. She could give him the letter on the tram. There's nowhere to run....

They walk a circle around the base of the mountain. There's not much to see, except a quieter spot by the fence.

“I don't think it matters where we go,” she says, her voice a bit shaky as she thinks about the letter. If only she had the guts to spit it out and be done with it. She's enjoying her time with Devin and it would be a shame to ruin such a pleasant afternoon. “You're like a magnet, attracting all sorts of people.”

Devin leans over the fence, coffee in hand. “Are you attracted to me?”

Her throat is dry and she tries to moisten it by gulping the very hot coffee. She gives a little cough. When that fails, she breathes out, focusing on each breath. “I . . . uh . . . well, sure! I think you're all right.” Her top lip twitches and she can't hold back a grin. She looks away into the forest, where hikers are making their way on the Grouse Grind, a difficult hike up the mountain but worth the view at the top. Her hands are shaking and she doesn't know what to do with them, so she shoves one of them into her jean pockets, which are small and made for style, not hands while the other one is holding the cup. Then she puts her hand on her hip, turning her body slightly in his direction. “You think you're something else, don't you? Just 'cause you're a hockey player and own a really nice car?” she asks, half-joking, half-serious.
Who does he think he is?

“No, I—”

“Well, there's more to being attracted to someone than what they have.”

“I know.”

“Do you, really?” she questions guiltily.

He stares at her blankly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, then.” She tries hard to sound friendly enough. She wouldn't want Devin to take her the wrong way. “I hope you understand I'm only hanging out with you because we agreed at the interview that I would show you around.”

“You have and we settled our agreement.”

“You don't have anyone here to show you around.” She gasps air. This is it. She's ready to give him the letter. “Family?” she throws out the word, expecting him to say no, but instead he steps closer and puts his hand on her arm, giving her a shot of adrenaline, which only makes her heart beat faster. It feels out of control. She doesn't know what he's going to do but has a good idea, since he's so close and she can smell his clean, earthy scent.

“Nobody.” His hand is still on her arm.

“I'm sure you've met people here.”