Simmering Ice Page 3

  He pitched his voice lower than the conversations flowing around them. “Want to get out of here? I know a place we can have more fun.”

  “No thanks.” Always the same answer. Why couldn’t the jerk take the hint?

  The muscles in his forearms flexed as his hands reached past her and rested on the counter, boxing her in. Her back pressed into the counter’s unforgiving surface. She leaned away. A sense of unease crawled over her skin. Not wanting to hurt his feelings apparently hadn’t sent him the right message. Still, he’d never tried touching her before.

  “You need to back up,” she demanded. The famous Davidson temper, inherited from her father’s side, flared to life.

  “Baby, come on. Cheer up a lonely guy.”

  “Back off.” She held up a hand to keep his barrel chest from pressing into hers. Anger curled her other hand into a fist. “You have five seconds to move, or you won’t be able to walk upright for a month.”

  A muscle in his jaw tightened and his eyes flashed. “Look…”

  The bell over the door jingled. Her gaze flashed over his shoulder. A giant walked through the door, the light shining off his blond hair like a halo.

  She whipped her focus back to the imposing, annoying man clogging her airspace. “Time’s up.”

  He shifted closer.

  “Big mistake.” She slammed her heel into his instep.

  Glaring at her, he jerked back, wincing.

  “Good-bye, Ray.” Back straight, stance wide, she rested fisted hands on her hips. Relief rushed through her when he turned away.

  Alec caught her gaze and headed in her direction. Ray strode past Alec, giving him wide berth, and exited the diner.

  Nerves from the unexpected encounter sliced through her. She gripped her hands together and dragged in a deep breath.

  Alec squeezed his muscular frame into the narrow space next to her then quirked his brow. “Hey. You okay?”

  “Sure.” She forced the chipper tone. “You didn’t go out with the team for a post-game celebration?”

  “Grabbing dinner here was more appealing than what they had planned.” He glanced at the window, watching Ray stride down the street. “Was that guy bothering you?”

  So he’d noticed the walking testosterone factory. “He’s harmless.”

  While Ray was big, Alec was bigger, and far more muscled. The hard work and dedication he poured into creating and maintaining his physique gave him one of the best bodies in professional sports.

  Serious, gray-blue eyes met her gaze. “He didn’t seem harmless. You weren’t smiling.”

  Pushing thoughts of Ray’s uninviting invitation aside, she lifted her cheeks into a smile. “I started working with a new kid this morning. He messed up his knee playing hockey. He idolizes you.”

  A dimple winked back at her when he grinned. “Maybe I could stop by the hospital and surprise him.”

  “Would you?” Meeting his favorite player would spur Colin into sticking with his therapy exercises.

  “Sure. I’d love to see you in action.”

  While warmth crept into her cheeks, she placed her dinner order.

  Stella didn’t bat an eye. “Here or to go?”

  Seeing him again was the highlight of her day, but after Alec’s reaction last night, sitting with him amid red hearts and cut-out cupids might not be the best idea. Upsetting him was the last thing she wanted to do. “To go, please.”

  Their arms brushed as she stepped aside. Even through the layers of clothes, she felt his touch. He raised a brow and then placed his order for a roast turkey triple-decker sandwich with a side of sweet potato fries.

  “You ordered the same thing last night.”

  A family juggling two toddlers passed, nudging her closer to him. Unlike her encounter with Ray, she didn’t mind the closeness.

  His shoulders lifted, and he raised his hands. The corner of his mouth quirked. “And I scored a goal today. I’m hoping the food will help keep me on at least a point-per-game streak.”

  “I thought only goalies were superstitious.”

  “It’s not superstitious. It’s just dinner.” He handed her one of the mugs of coffee Stella passed him.

  Loud music blasted from the jukebox, drowning out the clatter of silverware against plates and customer conversations. She couldn’t continue talking to him unless she pressed herself too close inside his personal space. Tempting, but no. She sipped her coffee and willed the kitchen to hurry up with their orders.

  Finally, Stella placed two bags on the counter. “Your orders are up, guys.”

  Annie reached for the plastic bag, and her fingers brushed against Alec’s warm hand. He didn’t pull away and the contact shot a jolt of awareness through her.

  She lowered her hand. “Stella, don’t forget to take your break. I don’t want you falling asleep on your drive home.”

  “You’re sweet. Go on home and eat while the food’s hot.” The lines on Stella’s face deepened. She turned to Alec. “Would you mind taking Annie home?”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I saw that man bothering you,” The older woman’s lips pinched together. “What if he’s hanging around outside somewhere waiting for you? I’d feel better if your friend took you home.”

  He offered her one of his trademark grins. “I’m more than happy to walk you home.”

  “Walk? Wait. Where’s your car?”

  “At my house. I needed to burn off some energy after the game so I walked here.”

  He needed to burn off energy after skating around a rink for three periods of play? Most guys needed to replenish fluids and rest after exhausting their bodies that way. She studied his face, but he only dialed that smile back up a few blinding notches and led the way to the front of the diner.

  He held the door for her. Bracing for the cold, she slipped past the warmth of his body. Red hearts and twinkling red and white lights lining the streets turned the New Jersey resort town into a lovers’ paradise. Did he feel more alone at this time of year, when romance was everywhere? Would he ever look at her and not be reminded of his wife?

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t the type to date a hockey player. He was so out of her league, it wasn’t funny.

  It wasn’t funny at all. She was damn tired of feeling second best. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could forget all about how good he smelled, how cute he looked, and how much she wanted something more.

  …

  Alec escorted Annie out of the diner and into the cold night, thankful he’d decided to take a chance on seeing her again. The minute he’d seen that moron’s hands on each side of her, green clouds of envy shrouded his thoughts. He’d almost turned around and left. The serious expression on her face followed by the asshole’s quick back step changed his mind.

  If she hadn’t handled the situation, he would have moved in to help. He’d almost lifted the guy up and tossed him aside to get to her. In the past, he’d always been in the role of protector to the women in his life, especially Tamara. Annie didn’t seem to need his help, and that strength fascinated him.

  He slowed his pace in the brisk, salty air to lengthen the time he escorted her home. Her gait slowed, matching his stride. Her presence energized him. That little part of him that had died with Tamara sprouted to life. Not a full-on explosion of joy, but enough sparks to nudge him a step closer to the beauty walking beside him.

  “Must be crazy traveling so much during the season.” she said, her arms swinging in a relaxed manner.

  “Not so bad. We haven’t been traveling lately, so I’ve spent a few good days chilling out at my house. What about you? Any travels lately?”

  “I spent a few days in Maryland last weekend with my family. I love seeing my niece…”

  Alec listened to Annie’s description of six-year-old Josie with an occasional nod and a chuckle.

  She hopped over a small patch of ice and landed in a smooth move reminiscent of a cat jumping onto a chair. “Josie inherited my lo
ve of physical activity. My sister doesn’t have an athletic gene in her body.”

  “Do you still play any sports?”

  She pulled her coat tighter. “I play basketball in a weekend league. It keeps me in shape.”

  “I’m pretty good at basketball. We should play sometime.” Maybe she’d wear shorts and show off those mile-high legs.

  “Five feet ten versus six feet five? I’ll need at least a four point advantage.”

  “Three.” He’d give her a twenty-point advantage for the chance to spend more time with her.

  “Deal.”

  That was all the encouragement he needed. “If you have a free night next week, we could play at the rec center, and maybe have dinner afterward.”

  She hesitated. Damn. Maybe he’d been reading her wrong. What seemed like flashes of interest might have just been friendliness.

  “Not interested?” he asked. “I guess you’re nervous a hockey player will beat you at your own sport. Understandable.”

  Her smile returned. “Just the opposite. I didn’t want to destroy your confidence so you doubt your athletic ability. It is your livelihood after all.”

  He stopped walking. “Let me see your hand.”

  He lifted his hand toward her, and she placed her hand on his, palm to palm. The touch was electric, intense and strangely sensual for a simple act of comparing hand size. She stared at their hands and then looked up to his face, never pulling away.

  “Hand size makes no difference in basketball.” She continued to stare into his eyes.

  “Never said it did.”

  “Then why did you want to see my hand?”

  His fingers interlocked with hers, and he rubbed his thumb over her smooth skin. “Just curious.”

  “Are you making a move on me, Sequoia?” Her fingers tightened around his.

  “Preventing you from slipping on the ice.”

  A strong tug, and he’d have her in his arms. A bit too soon for that move, and yet the thought wouldn’t leave him. They separated after a while to dodge a pothole, but that didn’t stop him from imagining her body tucked close to his.

  Gesturing toward a sprinkle of lights decorating a boat on the bay, she turned toward him. “This is my favorite view in the whole town.”

  “Mine too.” And he meant it. She looked pretty amazing in the moonlight.

  Her eyes grew wide, but not with excitement. She exhaled a gust of panic as she slid across a patch of black ice. Her arms flailed above her head in an instinctive attempt to regain balance, and the bag soared several feet away from her. Alec reached out and grabbed across her waist, preventing her body from meeting the ground, and tightened his hold until she was tucked into his side. An easy save.

  “Thanks.” Her breath was ragged. Her voice quivered.

  He wrapped both his arms around her and let her catch her breath and find her balance again. “I wouldn’t let you fall.”

  “I’m glad.” Her breathing slowed, but she didn’t try to move away from him. Deep red hair tumbled from her ponytail and floated over his fingers. The scent of flowers drew his nose closer to her, and he rested his cheek against the very top of her head, savoring her feel, her scent, and the sight of her snuggled against him. He silently thanked God for ice on the sidewalk.

  “Wait here.” He picked up her dinner, and then he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I need to make sure you don’t fall again.”

  She didn’t say anything, but allowed him to keep her pressed into his side. They walked to her home in companionable silence.

  She led him up the stairs to the second floor apartment of a rundown grayish wooden duplex a few blocks from his million dollar beach house. The place—damaged from years of exposure to salt air and hurricanes—should have been condemned. Why the hell would she live here? Although he didn’t want to tarnish the perfect memories of their walk together, he was very interested in learning more about her, house and all.

  After she unlocked the door, he placed the meal in her hand. “Goodnight, Annie.”

  “Goodnight, Alec.”

  Two steps down the stairs, he turned back. “Annie?”

  She peeked out the door. “Yeah?”

  With nerves crushing his entire sternum, he jogged back up the stairs. “Next Tuesday night. I’ll pick you up at seven. Be prepared to be defeated.”

  Annie opened the door all the way and swaggered toward him. She stood on her toes, placed her hands on her hips, and stuck out her chest. “Is that a challenge?”

  “Yes, it is.” He stepped closer and raised a brow in her direction as though intimidating an opponent, while in reality, all he could think about was how she stood one foot away from being kissed.

  “I accept your challenge, Mr. O’Meara. Be prepared, I fight to win.” Those perfect pink lips beckoned him closer, and he almost followed his cravings right to her mouth.

  You’ll scare her. Back off. That guy at the diner already bugged her. She doesn’t need you pawing at her.

  “Have a great evening.” Walking away seemed lame, but surging ahead and moving things too fast would only screw up the beginning of what could be something very enjoyable.

  Chapter Three

  On Tuesday evening, Annie hurried past drafty windows, dodging the buckets forming an obstacle course throughout her apartment’s rooms. Her landlord and honorary grandmother, Elsie, did the best she could, but the elderly widow didn’t have money for major repairs.

  She stood in front of her mirror, eyeing her purple mesh top and black shorts—both new, and three steps nicer than what she usually wore when playing in her weekend league. The soft patter of rain tapping her window and drops plopping into the bucket by her closet matched her heart’s nervous ticking. Less than an hour until game time. Less than an hour to figure out whether this was a date or a get-together with a friend. He’d invited her to play hoops like she was one of the guys, yet he’d looked at her like he’d wanted to kiss her. His hand clasping hers was definitely not a friend’s zone move.

  Her phone pinged a message alert. When Alec’s name came across the display, her stomach clutched. Maybe he’d had second thoughts about getting together. She slid her finger across the screen.

  Want to grab dinner after I defeat you?

  Laughter flowed as her stomach eased. She typed her reply.

  You mean, after I wipe the floor with you. Sure. Where? So I know what to wear.

  Phone in hand, she paced the worn floorboards, praying he wouldn’t suggest a place requiring something fancier than what she owned.

  Ping.

  It’s very casual.

  She paused. His idea of casual might not match hers. Better check.

  Jeans and a sweater casual?

  Perfect.

  She slid her feet into her sneakers and packed jeans, boots, and her favorite sweater into her duffel bag. The cozy knit, the color of daffodils, had been a gift from her sister. Every time she went home for a visit, Lynn had something new for her to wear. She joked she was replacing Annie’s wardrobe one item at a time. Lynn’s taste ran the opposite of hers, but Annie didn’t mind the comment, too much.

  The clock clicked closer to seven o’clock. Fresh nerves washed over her. Annie glanced at the rain and mist curtaining her sliver of ocean view, wishing she’d told someone about the date so she could call them for last-minute confidence or advice. She slipped on emerald stud earrings, passed down from her grandmother, and then picked up her hairbrush. Her mother always said she looked better with her hair loose, but she couldn’t play basketball with her hair in her face, not if she intended to win. And she did. She pulled the brush through her hair, picturing Alec’s fingers running through the strands, and wove them into a braid.

  Not much time left.

  Trying to see the apartment through Alec’s eyes, she turned in a slow circle. Brown watermarks and cracks covered the ceiling like an abstract painting. The potted fern on the table added ambiance while catching the drips falling from the ceiling. Ro
manticizing the bubbled paint on the wall required more creativity. No renter in their right mind would want to move into a place with so many signs of disrepair, but how could she leave? Elsie needed the rental income to cover the cost of her prescription drugs.

  Highlights from the week’s professional hockey games played across the TV screen. When the Hustlers logo appeared, the sportscaster’s voice pitched high in excitement. “Alec O’Meara set a new career high with five points in Monday night’s game. He’s on pace to have a fifty-goal season.”

  The mirror on the far wall caught her reflection, and the foolish smile spreading across her face. In the few days since their walk home, she’d replayed the memory of holding his hand and being in his arms over and over again in her mind. Late night daydreams, while she snuggled under the covers, kept her warm against the room’s chill.

  Warmth flushed into her cheeks. Would their basketball game turn into an excuse to get their hands on each other? She couldn’t wait to find out.

  Her phone rang. Seeing her mother’s name on the display, she sighed and answered. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I called you earlier today. Where were you?”

  “I was at work. Is anything wrong?”

  “I wanted to let you know that I mailed you a package. You should have it by tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. What is it?”

  “Hair and skin products. I talked to the girls at my salon, and they recommended several items that would help you.”

  “Great.” Based on her mom’s high standards and cutting remarks, they probably thought she resembled Quasimodo. “I have to go. I’m on my way out the door. I’m playing basketball tonight.”

  “Of course you are.” The sigh tinged with disapproval came through loud and clear.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Honey, if you spent half the amount of time you devote to sports to things that would attract a man, well…”

  Tingles swept up her neck and across her face. She couldn’t have this conversation again. It never changed. “I have to go,” she said again.

  Annie ended the call and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe she didn’t spend hours getting ready in the morning or at the salon each week. Maybe someday, her mom wouldn’t care about those things and would actually pay attention to her accomplishments at work and with her hobbies. Thanks, Mom, for making me feel like a disaster.