Walker slid his thigh between her legs, her dress hiking up, everything in her wound tight, desperate for his touch…
“Walker,” she whispered, the ache between her thighs growing deeper. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she pulled him closer, tasting the barest brush of his lips as he kissed her…
“Mama!” Gracie shouted from the living room. “Where’s our ice cream?”
Eva opened her eyes, but Walker didn’t pull away. Not yet.
He smiled, and nipped again at her neck, her earlobe, his voice thick with desire. “To be continued, princess.”
“Your daughter gave me homework,” Walker said.
Eva had just gotten Gracie tucked into bed, and now she took a seat on the couch next to Walker, glad to see that he’d started a fire.
“Do I even want to know?” Eva asked.
“I made the mistake of admitting I’d never read The Hobbit before—just saw the movie.”
“Oh, no.” Eva laughed. Gracie was a purist. Eva had rented the Hobbit DVDs for her last year, and the kid turned it off fifteen minutes in, utterly disgusted. Later that night, Eva had found her under her blanket with a flashlight, paging through the book she couldn’t quite read on her own. I just need to wash that movie out of my brain, Mama.
Walker nodded at the book, stacked on the coffee table with a few others Eva recognized as Gracie’s favorites. “The kid says I have to read them all, and do a one-page book report on my favorite one.”
Eva laughed. “Did she give you a deadline?”
“New Year’s Day.”
“Friendly advice? Don’t miss it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of disappointing her,” Walker said. “Or getting my ass kicked. Hell, Eva. She definitely has your spark.”
Eva rested her head on Walker’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his breath stirring her hair. The fire crackled before them, wrapping Eva in a sense of warmth and safety that had been missing from her life for a long time.
She hadn’t planned on introducing Walker and Gracie tonight. She was supposed to be rushing out the door when Walker arrived, Gracie and Marybeth tucked safely inside, unheard and unseen. But now she was glad plans had changed.
“I’ve never seen her get attached to anyone so quickly,” Eva said. “She… she has a hard time trusting people. Especially men-people.”
Walker shifted beside her, and Eva knew what he was going to say even before the words were out. “ What about her—”
“Her father isn’t in the picture,” she said, looking up at him. “His choice.” His insistence was more like it, but Eva bit her bottom lip. She’d already said too much. She hated talking about him. Hated thinking about him. The only reason she didn’t hate him was that he’d given her Gracie, and she just couldn’t find it in her heart to despise the father of the child who’d lit up Eva’s entire life.
“I can’t…” Walker’s jaw ticked, his eyes flashing with anger. “I can’t imagine having a kid like Gracie, and not wanting to be part of her life.” The emotion in his eyes surprised her. For Eva, the sun rose and set on Gracie, but Walker had just met her. Up until tonight, she wasn’t even sure if he liked children. But now, that look in his eyes… it wasn’t just anger. It was heartache. For her. For Gracie.
Eva’s heart hammered in her throat, and she shifted to the other end of the couch, tucking her feet up under her legs. “Wow. It’s possible I’m the worst first date ever.”
“Oh, we’re calling this a date now?” Walker flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling in the firelight. “I thought we were team-building.”
”You did help me do the dishes. That counts.”
“Yes, throwing paper plates into the trash was a valiant effort on my part. Thank God I was here to share the burden.”
“You also made dinner,” she added, nudging his thigh with her foot. “And then my daughter gave you homework, and I started talking about my ex.” Eva shook her head, not sure weather to be amused or embarrassed. “You’re probably counting the seconds until you can make your escape. I’m surprised your wingman hasn’t called.”
“Oh, they did. Both of them.”
“Let me guess. Roscoe and Henny?”
Walker nodded. “I told them to fuck off, then turned off my phone.”
“That was pretty brave of you, forty-six. What happens if the date turns really bad and you need an out?”
“Not a chance, princess.” He grabbed her foot, took it into his lap. With a near-orgasmic touch, he pressed his thumb into her arch, massaging away the tension. With every stroke, shockwaves of pleasure radiated up and down her legs, her spine, all the way across her scalp.
“Whatever you’re doing, I’ll spoon feed you gingerbread ice cream every day for a month if you promise not to stop touching me.”
“Done and done.” He slid his hand up her calf, her thigh, caressing her bare skin. Eva slid her other leg across his lap, grateful she hadn’t changed out of the dress.
Eva’s eyes drifted closed as she lost herself beneath his strong, capable hands, her body melting at his touch, craving more of him, all of him.
“There’s a game tomorrow night,” he said, his voice like warm honey. “I’d really love it if you and Gracie would come.”
“A Tempest game?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“I’ve got good seats. I know a few of the higher-ups.”
Eva laughed, her reservations ebbing away. It’d been ages since she’d been to a game, and Gracie had never even seen one on television. It might actually be fun. Besides, she’d broken so many of her rules already—hockey boys, intimacy, bringing a man into her home, getting attached—standing on principle over a simple hockey game seemed a little ridiculous.
“Sounds like fun,” she said. “Count us in.”
Walker shifted, and then she felt the press of soft lips on her knee, slowly fluttering upward. His fingers brushed the hem of her dress, pushing it up to reveal her bare thighs. Instinctively she spread her legs, urging him closer, unable to resist her body’s own desperate pleas.
When she opened her eyes, Walker was leaning over her, the look in his eyes hungry. Feral.
“I’ve been waiting all night to touch you,” he said, brushing her lips with a powder-soft kiss. “To taste you.” Another kiss, another soft moan. “To make you come.”
He was rock hard beneath his dark jeans, the press of him sending a thrill to her core.
With trembling fingers she unbuttoned his shirt, sliding her hands down the front of his perfectly sculpted chest, the firm ridges of his abs contracting at her touch. He was all muscle and heat and power, and Eva ached to feel him inside her, to feel the red-hot pulse of him as they brought each other over the edge.
Walker lowered his body on to hers, the solid weight comforting and delicious, the pressure between her thighs driving her wild. The button of his jeans dug into her stomach, but Eva didn’t care. She wanted more. She arched her hips, desperate to feel the grind of his rock-hard cock.
“Evangeline…” He nipped her ear, his breath hot on her flesh, the sound of her full name on his lips making her wet.
“Don’t wake Gracie,” she whispered, barely getting the words out.
“Oh, I can be quiet, princess,” he said, tracing a slow circle over her nipple. God, she wanted out of this dress. His touch was killing her. “But as we know, you’re a bit of a screamer.”
Eva bolted up. “What! I am so not a—”
Before she could respond, he smothered her with a kiss, pushing her back down against the couch. She parted her lips, gasping for air as he claimed her mouth again and again, teeth clashing, breath hot and needy, stubble scratching her chin, and all she could think was more. More. More. More. She wanted him with a fiery, desperate need she felt in her blood, in her bones.
Frantically she reached for his waistband, fumbling with the button and zipper, sliding her hand inside and fisting his smooth, perfect cock. It was bigger than she’d remembered, the satin
-smooth skin hot to the touch, pulsing as she stroked him.
“Eva, you… you have to… slow…” Walker finally grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop. “Five more seconds and I would’ve lost it.”
She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip, sucking gently. “So lose it,” she whispered. “Let me make you come.”
“I…” Walker closed his eyes, shaking his head as if he were trying to clear his thoughts. When he looked at her again, his eyes were dark, hooded. Eva could see the pulse jumping at his throat. “Not yet,” he said, a slow smile curving his lips. “We’ve got all night, and I intend to make the most of every single—”
Bilbo Baggins let out a woof, pressing his cold wet nose against her foot. Eva yelped. “Bilbo Baggins!” She laughed. “Go away!”
He snuffled around the couch, lingering. Eva scratched behind his ears. “Aww, I know you’re just looking out for me, you big lug.”
Walker laughed. “Bilbo Baggins is trying to cockblock me.”
“He’s protective.”
“Hmm.” Walker raised a brow, teasing her lips with another kiss. In a husky voice that sent a fresh shock to her core, he said, “Think you’re in danger, Evangeline?”
Her name melted on his tongue, his breath warm on her lips, and oh God yes. Yes, she was absolutely in danger, every warning sign in her body lighting up, flashing, howling to get her attention.
But she ignored them all. Even Bilbo Baggins, her very last line of defense. Her hand drifted away from the dog, and soon she lost track of him altogether. Lost track of the fire, burning down low. Lost track of time and space and the sound of her own heartbeat.
She was gone, her body turning into jelly as Walker slid his fingers between her thighs, inside her, deep, deeper, slow and perfect, then fast and hard, hitting her just exactly right.
Eva’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body writhing in pleasure—not just from what he was doing to her, but from what she knew was still to come.
Their previous encounters notwithstanding, Eva could tell that Walker was a man who preferred to take his time in the bedroom. Who would work on discovering and mastering her pleasures with the same intense commitment he showed on the ice. Dedicated and driven. Strong and powerful. And all man.
Her thighs trembled in anticipation as Walker ran his nose along her jaw, her neck, his fingers sliding out of her and groping for the zipper at the back of her dress.
She missed his touch. Needed him back there. Now.
“Don’t stop,” she said, breathing hard.
“Believe me, I’m just getting started.” He tugged the dress down to expose her breasts, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth, his fingers sliding blissfully inside her once again. He found the perfect rhythm, stroking her, his teeth and tongue teasing her sensitive nipple into a stiff peak, every single nerve ending in her body on absolute fire for this man, for his touch, for his kiss…
“Walker, I’m close. Don’t stop. Don’t—”
“Santa?”
The tiny, sleepy voice floated in from the hallway, and Eva and Walker froze.
“Shit,” Eva mouthed, her breathing still ragged.
“Double shit.” Walker laughed silently, sliding back to the end of the couch with as much stealth as he could muster.
Eva was grateful the back of the couch blocked most of Gracie’s view.
“It’s okay,” she called out. “It’s just us. Go back to bed, baby.”
“But I thought I heard Santa.”
“No, sweetie,” Eva said. “It was probably just… Bilbo Baggins.”
The dog yelped at the sound of his name, darting out from behind the Christmas tree. Eva hadn’t even seen him hiding back there.
“Definitely not Santa,” Walker said. His shirt was buttoned up again, and he leaned his elbows on the back of the couch, smiling at Gracie. “I know for a fact that he operates on a strict schedule. Christmas is still, what? Six months away?”
Gracie giggled. “Nineteen days and nine hours and thirty-two minutes.”
“Oh, three months and four days, you say?”
“No!”
“Twelve years and seventy-eight days?” Walker teased.
More giggles. “Walker! Don’t say that, or Santa will put you on the naughty list.”
“He’s already on the naughty list,” Eva mumbled, trying to wriggle back into her dress without totally cracking up at their predicament. They really needed to relocate to her bedroom.
Finally put back together, she rose from the couch, shooting him a look that said, don’t you dare move. “Be right back.”
Eva tucked Gracie back into bed, bribed Bilbo Baggins to stay in the kitchen with a few of his favorite dog biscuits, then headed back toward the living room. Walker had put another log on the fire and returned to the couch, one arm extended over the back. It was the perfect spot, made just for her, and it called to her like a beacon.
But she lingered in the space that separated the living and dining rooms, scared and uncertain. For all of her talk, all of her desire, all of the things they’d already done tonight… deep down Eva knew that sleeping with Walker again would only complicate things.
For both of them.
He looked up at her as she finally entered the room, the look in his eyes unreadable. She sensed he had the same reservations. Things had already heated up too fast.
“Everything okay with Gracie?” he asked.
Eva sat in the rocking chair across from the couch. “She wants to know if the hockey man knows how to make pancakes.”
Walker raised a brow, and only then did Eva realize what she’d implied.
“Walker…” She closed her eyes, hating the conflicted tone in her voice. Why couldn’t she just enjoy this? They were two consenting adults. They were insanely attracted to each other. They knew how to make each other feel good even more than they knew how to drive each other crazy on the ice.
Eva stood, forcing a smile. She wanted to hold out her hand, lead him back to her bedroom. She wanted to lock the door and strip him bare and spend all the hours until sunrise making love to this sinfully hot, impossibly sweet man whose touch lit up her insides.
But she couldn’t. Her legs felt like rubber, her nerves overloaded with sensations, her brain and her heart locked in that endless battle she wasn’t sure either side would ever win.
Why was life so damn complicated?
Why was Eva making it so damn complicated?
Walker finally rose from the couch, his smile sincere, but unable to mask the disappointment in his eyes. “I… should probably head out,” he said, saving her the awkwardness of making the excuse herself. She could’ve kissed him for that. She wanted to kiss him for it, but then they’d be right back on the couch, or in her bedroom, and that was just a bad idea any way she looked at it.
Wasn’t it?
“Walker, maybe—”
“I have a meeting with Gallagher first thing tomorrow,” he said.
Eva nodded, hating the burn in her cheeks. No, this was for the best. They had to back off a little. At least for tonight, before things progressed. “Me too,” she said. “I mean, I have back-to-back clients in the morning.”
“Not hockey players, I hope?”
“Two former ballerinas training for an ice show, one senior citizens class, and a five-year-old whose mother insists is the next Michelle Kwan.”
Walker laughed. “Is she?”
“Poor kid would rather be home drinking hot cocoa and watching cartoons.”
“Can’t blame her,” Walker said, retrieving his coat from the hook. Then, with a wink, “The ice is a cruel mistress.”
All the unspoken things hung between them in the air, frozen, but if there was a right response to that, Eva couldn’t find it.
She stuck her feet into the snow boots by the door and walked him out onto the porch. It was still snowing, big, fat flakes that drifted to the ground in an endless ballet. Somewhere in the distance, a train whistled—the only sound fo
r miles and miles. Eva’s skin erupted in goose bumps.
The blast of cold air should’ve snapped her back to reality, cleared her thoughts, made her grateful that she and Walker had avoided disaster. But instead it only made her feel cold and lonely. Full of regret. Sad in a way she couldn’t quite place.
“Bet this non-date didn’t turn out like you thought it would,” she said finally, forcing a laugh.
Walker’s eyes narrowed, still sparkling with mischief and desire. “You’re a woman of mystery and intrigue, Evangeline. I’ll say that much.”
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, trying to memorize the smell of his skin, uncertain what their next meeting would hold.
“See you tomorrow,” he said, tentative. “For the game?”
Eva nodded, and she swore he exhaled with relief. “And then again on Wednesday for another practice,” she said.
“Admit it,” he said. “You can’t get enough of me.”
Eva laughed, the sound swallowed up by the snowy night. “No.”
“No you won’t admit it, or no you can’t get enough?”
“Good night, Walker.” She pressed a final kiss to his lips, and then closed the door, afraid to look into his eyes again.
Afraid of what she might find there.
Afraid that it might mirror her own impossible feelings.
But mostly, afraid that it wouldn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
Eva hadn’t seen Gracie this excited since she discovered the original Twilight Zone series on Netflix at Aunt Marybeth’s.
The kid had been chattering nonstop since Walker picked them up for the game, and now that they were here at the arena, her excitement levels were reaching core meltdown levels. She could barely keep her smile in check, bouncing on her toes with every step, asking a million questions, never loosening her grip on Walker’s hand.
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