Last Chance Christmas (11 page)

Even when she flirted with him, or whispered suggestive things in his ear, he could feel the way she held herself back from more. From a deeper connection. They’d been back together for twenty-four hours and he already recognized so many personality traits of hers that had always been there. The stubbornness, pride, and determination—yes. But underneath all that, a soft heart capable of loyalty unlike anything he’d ever known from anyone else.

And as she kissed him now, climbing into his lap even as he wrestled her clothes off, he could feel the shift in her. She wasn’t flirting to get a rise out of him. She wasn’t trying to challenge him or distract him.

Right now, kissing him like her life depended on it, she was just Shea. His first love.

Forcing his hands to be still, he opened his eyes, wanting to see her.

For one unguarded moment, her gray eyes peered back at him, questioning.

“I’m going to take you outside.” He stroked her hair. Cradled her face. “But condoms aren’t approved for hot tub use, okay?”

A smile tugged at her lips, a movement he felt more than he saw.

“You read the package directions carefully, I see.”

“I can’t be the only one showing restraint out there.” Lifting her in his arms, he held her close. “It’s going to be freezing, but only for a second.”

The cold air made her gasp when it hit her, but he moved fast to lower her into the tub where the water was—according to the readout on the side panel—a toasty one hundred and two degrees. Steam wafted all around her as the water covered her.

He took the steps up to the edge and then dropped down into the molded seat alongside her. For a moment they sat there, watching the snowflakes melt just before they reached the water’s surface. Bubbles simmered and popped while the water rumbled in strong jet streams against his neck and back.

“This feels amazing.” She sank lower, splashing the tub level higher until it hit her chin. “And the view is so beautiful.”

He followed her gaze to where the moon hung low and bright on the horizon, just above the tree line. It made a blue-ish light on the snow. In a clearing below his house, he could see the outlines of three deer trolling the snow for food.

“I like this view better.” He turned back toward her, liking the way her hair floated on the surface of the water like a mermaid’s. “I’ve been picturing you in here all day.”

Grabbing her hand, he flipped her to lay on him, edging himself lower in the tub so that she remained covered. Her hair followed her more slowly, swirling around his shoulder as he brought her face to his. Covered her wet lips and tasted her deeply. Thoroughly.

Arms twining around his neck, she arched against him, bringing her scent and softness in kissing range. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about what secrets she was keeping. Or what she might hold back from him tomorrow. If four days was all he got with her, he was going to make sure they lived in her memory forever.

“You ask impossible things,” she murmured, tilting her head so he could kiss her in that place that always made her shiver. “If there’s no condom use in the hot tub, maybe we shouldn’t try to drive each other crazy.”

“Am I driving you crazy?” He licked a spot behind her ear and felt her breasts bead tight.

She straddled his thigh.

“We need to go inside,” she whispered in his ear in a silky, damp touch. An instant later, her hand moved between his thighs, lightly stroking. “Unless, maybe I could—”

He gripped her wrist.

“We’ll go in.” He wanted her, too. Badly. And he didn’t want to find release without her. “Together.”

She edged back to study him in the moonlight, her face half in shadow. Inscrutable.

Damn, but he wanted to strip away all her secrets. All her reservations. Find that moment again when she gave herself to him completely.

The thought propelled him out of her arms and up the steps. He flipped open the deck box containing heated towels and robes and threw on a robe. Laying a towel on top of the deck box, he reached into the tub and lifted her out, sitting her on the heated terrycloth just long enough to get a robe bundled around her and another around her legs, then he headed into the house.

“Let’s lay in front of the fire,” she urged. “It’s been a long time since I fell asleep staring into the flames.”

Her words caught him off guard since they’d done that together once. That year they’d been dating, she’d sneaked him into her house some nights after her parents were asleep and the two of them would kiss each other senseless on the couch in the great room, finally falling asleep while they watched that fire burn down.

“Me too.” Closing the door behind him, he brought her into the front room where the fire was the only light. “And this time I won’t have to sleep with one eye open, scared your father was going to wake up and strangle me with both hands.”

He made a pit stop in the bedroom where he leaned her close enough to the bed so she could retrieve pillows and a blanket. Then, dragging it all with them, he tossed the condom box on top of the pile. When they landed on the leather sofa in a tangle of linens, he finally had her where he’d wanted her all day.

She blazed a trail of kisses along his chest while he tugged her wet hair out from under her so it would dry. He spread it out over a cushion, then propped her injured foot on a pillow—mostly so he’d remember not to hit it since they hadn’t rewrapped it.

“You’re way too careful with me,” she teased, peering up at him with mischievous eyes as she nipped his shoulder. “I swear I won’t break.”

“You’re already broken. When you’re healed up, we’ll revisit that issue.” He said it without thinking about the four-day time limit.

Maybe Shea was too distracted to mind since she’d already returned to kissing him, her hands stroking everything within her reach.

She fit against him perfectly, like her hips were made to cradle his. He smoothed a hand up her spine, molding her to him. Drowning in all that softness. She made sweet, sexy sounds as he touched and kissed her, the little purrs of approval spiking the heat in his veins until he was an inferno all over for her.

“I want to be on top.” She splayed her palms on his chest, pushing him.

“What about your foot?” He didn’t want her to twist it and add to the injury.

“It’s going to be great,” she insisted, still pushing him back, shifting her legs around.

Until she frowned.

“What?” He stilled. Damn it, he should have listened to his instincts.

“Maybe you’re right,” she admitted, lying down sideways so they faced each other, her expression troubled. “It wouldn’t work the other way.”

“Shea.” He breathed her name over her bare shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “I’m going to love being inside you any way I can have you.”

“You sure have a way with words for a man who spends six hours a day in a gym.”

“Wait until I show you my way with my hands.” He wrapped her thigh around his hip bringing all that sweet feminine heat closer.

Her eyes fluttered closed when he stroked a touch inside her leg, teasing her. He kept his eyes open to watch the play of emotions over her face in the firelight, skimming his knuckle up the slick center of her. Over and over. When she bit her lip, he increased the pressure, savoring the feel of her.

Everything about her was so damn beautiful.

When she passed him a condom with trembling fingers, he gave in, rolling it on and edging his way inside her. She wound herself around him, anchoring her body to his while he moved in her. Slowly. Deeply.

He plunged a hand in her hair, realizing he was laying on half of it like a blanket. But they were so close, entwined, it didn’t matter. Her hands stroked all over his back, her exhales soft puffs against his ear. Her body held his tight, the slick heat of her pulling him.

When she opened her eyes to look at him though, the connection he felt made his heartbeat stutter. Heat rushed up the back of his neck. He crushed her to him, his pulse thundering so damn loud he couldn’t hear anything else.

She went still for a moment, then thrust her hips hard against his, driving them both where they wanted to go. The rhythmic squeeze of her feminine muscles around him ensured he went over the edge with her, his body releasing so hard and long he had to hold her tight to make sure he didn’t edge her off the couch. Sensation swamped him, dragging him under until he was damn near senseless with all that pleasure.

It took a long while after for his heart to settle into something even close to normal. He didn’t trust himself to speak though, unsure what he was feeling and not wanting to spoil whatever had just happened between them.

Even Shea, who seemed like she’d been trying hard to keep things light between them, stayed quiet. She let him rewrap her foot for the night. He found her brush in her suitcase and brushed out her hair as it began to dry. He brought in her crutches from outside in case she needed them during the night.

But for the most part, they just watched the fire and let the night wrap itself around them. Christmas was in four more days and she hadn’t promised him anything beyond that.

So for now, he planned to make each moment last. Especially the good ones when she fell asleep with her red hair spilling over his chest, trusting him with her body if not her heart.

‡

T
wo days later,
Shea helped J.C. strap Riley Elliot into a sled for a round of hockey with his friends.

The outdoor rink ice had been frozen the day before, but J.C. had wanted to groom it more and add another layer. He’d spent hours hand-grooming it with a special wand that layered water over the ice, like a Zamboni in miniature. Shea suspected he could have been done in half the time, but he’d seemed glad to be on the ice even if he didn’t have skates on. By today, the surface was great. Not as perfect as in indoor rink for sure, but with the quality control of the refrigeration coils hooked up to the chiller, the ice was the best she’d ever seen for an outdoor venue. Far better than it had been in her teen years when the weather and usage all took a big toll.

The upgrades J.C. had made were first class. And very, very generous. Because while NHL players, especially the elite ones, commanded big salaries, they didn’t make as much as many other professional athletes. J.C.’s home, while beautiful, wasn’t flashy. And she’d bet what he invested in this rink rivaled what he’d spent on the Jeep he drove. Or close to it, anyhow.

“You realize you’re going to have an advantage over your friends,” J.C. warned Riley as he checked the tightness of the belt on his one leg.

Seven of Riley’s friends and a handful of their parents were there for an informal sled hockey game. The parents seemed as excited as the kids, chattering and sharing breakfast sandwiches from an insulated bag someone had brought. The temperature hovered around twenty degrees Fahrenheit, but the late morning sky was bright blue.

“For once.” Riley—a blonde-haired, freckle faced kid with an easy demeanor—grinned and gave his dad a fist bump. “They’re all used to relying on their legs.”

“Right.” J.C. opened the board to let him out on the ice. “So the game might not be as fast as you’d like while they try to get coordinated. But if you still have juice in your arms later, I’ll get on one of them and see if I can keep up.”

“Cool!” Riley already had his modified sticks in his hands. They worked like ski poles with metal picks at the end to propel the player around the ice, but they were also used for shooting and handling the puck. “Shea, you can play too.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on the ice.” She had reached her surgeon’s quota for time on crutches, so she’d moved into the walking boot the day before. But she definitely didn’t want to push her progress.

Her father had never acknowledged injuries back when she’d played, insisting “mental toughness” was part of the game. She wondered what Dad would think of J.C.’s enforced time off for the concussion.

“Coach Walker says you were a legend,” one of the other boys chimed in, the smirk on his mug suggesting he wasn’t quite sure how a girl could have earned the distinction.

Then again, maybe she was still defensive all these years later.

“Think about how good you’d be at hockey if Coach Walker was your dad and you practically lived at the rink since you were old enough to walk.” That had been her life until she was old enough to make her big break to New York. “By the time I was seven, I had a better shot than all the peewee boys. Except for J.C.”

She winked at him over the kids’ heads as the boys shoved their way through the one open board to try out their sleds and poles. Parents began filling in the small metal bleachers behind her to watch the players.

“She’s being modest,” J.C. called over the ice before the kids could disperse. “I might have had a harder slap shot, but her wrist shot was deadly. You guys are going to see how much you rely on your natural athleticism out there today with not having the use of your legs. And it will make you appreciate how far some skill will take you. There aren’t any shortcuts to practice.”

Shea didn’t know if the ten-year-old set heard him, but she sure did. Now, as she hung back to let J.C. speak with a few of the parents who had questions or comments about the sled hockey rules, she recalled how supportive he’d always been of her as a player. She didn’t think much about that time in her life when she’d done everything in her power to earn her dad’s approval, since she’d left Cloud Spin believing she’d never win that coveted prize. She could have been on the women’s national team, and he probably still would have found fault with her game. It was just his nature.