by Kat Mizera
“Me too.” He got up and went from being across from her in the booth to sliding in beside her. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back, chastely, again, and he wondered if she was taking her cues from him or if she was a lot more innocent than he was used to.
He had a feeling he would need to take his time with her, because she wasn’t at all like the puck bunnies and random women he’d picked up in bars the last few years. He’d probably had more than his fair share of sex since going pro, but that wasn’t the goal with Charli. His first priority was probably going to be getting her to trust him, so he wouldn’t rush anything sexual.
Cheesecake notwithstanding.
He’d thought of little else since they’d had that conversation and when it arrived at the table after dinner, he was almost afraid to take a bite. Charli had an impish smile on her face, though, wiggling her eyebrows as she held out a fork to him.
“Well, this is it. Are you ready?”
“I was born ready.” He’d heard Logan say this enough times to feel comfortable using the phrase, and he dug his fork into the creamy mixture in front of him. He took a tentative bite and then slowly closed his eyes. Okay, there was no way in hell he was truly comparing any type of food to good sex, but this was pretty incredible. He savored the first bite, letting it melt in his mouth before finally swallowing. When he opened his eyes again, Charli was grinning.
“Was I right?”
“Close,” he said, licking his lips.
Her cheeks turned red but she didn’t look away. “So maybe I’ve been…doing it wrong.”
His cock stiffened behind his jeans at the thought of showing her she hadn’t done anything wrong, that she’d most likely just been with the wrong men. God, he wanted to show her sex that was better than cheesecake, and the look in her eyes told him she was interested too. However, he’d vowed not to rush and he wouldn’t.
He stuck his fork back in the cheesecake and held out a bite to her. “I don’t think you did it wrong,” he said as she opened her mouth. “I think maybe the men were wrong.”
“I’ve only slept with two men,” she admitted softly. “And they were definitely wrong.”
“Only two?”
She nodded and swallowed. “So cheesecake had to become my substitute.”
He smiled. “Well, maybe someday you’ll change your mind, but for now, I will say this cheesecake is almost as good as sex.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” She snatched the fork from his hand and took another bite.
He drove her home after dinner and walked her to the front door.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked. “I feel like after tonight I’m not going to see you much because of your travel schedule.”
“I have to be up early,” he said, reaching out to draw her close. “But I’ll see you after the next game and we’ll talk on the phone when I’m out of town. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned in to kiss her and this time he slid his tongue between her lips. Her mouth opened and he finally kissed her the way he’d been wanting to. Their tongues moved together slowly, exploring the newness of it all. She was so different from any woman he’d ever been with, from her underlying shyness to her intellect, but those things had quickly become huge turn-ons. Having to pace himself made him want her that much more, and kissing her intensified that need.
He drew her against him with one hand, deepening the kiss and using the other to skim her back. She kissed him back and with each stroke of their tongues, her shyness seemed to melt away, until she’d gripped his shirt with both hands, as if holding on for dear life. Her breasts were molded to his chest and the warmth of her breath matched the warmth growing throughout his body. Every time he touched her, he found something sexy and new, like the way she softly moaned, as if holding back. He couldn’t wait for a time where she let out all the passion she was keeping inside, and he hoped he would be the man to make it happen.
This wasn’t the night for that, so he focused on kissing her, getting her all worked up so she’d be thinking about it until the next time they saw each other. By the time they broke apart, they were breathless and she was a little glassy-eyed, staring up at him with pure need.
“I have to go,” he whispered. “But I’ll call you tomorrow after I visit hospital.”
“Good night. Thank you for tonight.”
“Hyvää yötä.” Good night. He pressed one last quick kiss on her lips and jogged back to his truck.
Miikka talked Logan into going to the children’s ward of the hospital with him, even though Logan visited often. He didn’t want to go alone though, and Logan was a good enough friend to do it just because Miikka asked.
“Do you think they’ll have a lot of questions?” Miikka asked him as they walked inside.
“It depends. A few of the kids are here for the long term, you know? So they’ve met a bunch of us already and I think they’re over it. But the new kids will definitely ask you everything, from whether or not you have a girlfriend to why you missed that shot at the three-minute mark of the game on the fourteenth of October.”
Miikka cut a glance at him. “For real?”
Logan laughed. “Yup.”
“You’ll save me if I don’t understand something?”
“Don’t worry, buddy, I got your back.”
They signed in at the reception desk and made their way to the children’s oncology ward. Though the walls were brightly decorated and most of the nurses had smiles on their faces, looking in the different rooms broke Miikka’s heart as he walked the halls. The woman in charge had given them four room numbers to visit, kids who were new and hadn’t met them before, and then they could stop in other rooms if they had time.
“The first one is Kaylee,” Logan said, reading the sheet of paper they’d been given. “She’s six.”
Miikka nodded and lightly knocked on the door. The little girl and a woman he figured was her mother both looked up. The mom smiled a tired smile but Kaylee looked suspicious.
“If you’re doctors, I’m done with shots today,” she said defiantly.
Miikka held up his hands in mock surrender. “No shots. I’m Miikka Laasonen, and I play for the Alaska Blizzard.”
“Oh, hello.” The mom stood up, smiling a little more brightly. “Thank you for coming by. She’s had a rough couple of days, so don’t mind her if she’s a little surly.”
“Is okay.” Miikka looked down at the child, his heart squeezing painfully at her bald head and the myriad tubes and wires all over her. “Do you like hockey, Kaylee?” he asked her.
She turned up her nose a little. “No. I like ballet.”
“Do you know, when I was small, I had to dance ballet with my sister because she had no partner.”
“You do ballet?”
Miikka nodded. “Not so much now, but before, yes. Want to see?” He put down the bag of goodies he’d brought.
“Oh, this ought to be good,” Logan said, taking out his phone.
Miikka struck a pose, pointing his feet out and holding his hands above his head in an exaggerated gesture. His eyes met Kaylee’s and she giggled.
“You’re silly,” she told him.
“Thank you.” He pulled a huge, stuffed polar bear out of the bag—that was the team’s mascot—and wiggled it in front of her. “What do you think? Will this bear be good company for you while you’re here?”
Kaylee held out both hands. “Yes, please.”
Miikka sat on the edge of the bed as he handed it to her. “What do you think? What name do we give?”
She smiled but cocked her head. “You talk funny.”
“Kaylee.” Her mother spoke softly.
“Is okay.” Miikka shook his head. “I’m from Finland. English is my second language.”
“Like Nana speaks French!” Kaylee said, nodding. “You’re doing good, Miikka.”
He chuckled. “Thank you.”
K
aylee hugged the polar bear to her chest and her eyes started to close.
Miikka turned to her mother. “Should we go?” he asked quietly.
She nodded. “She’s heavily medicated; I’m surprised you got a laugh out of her. Like I said, it’s been a rough day. Thank you for coming by.”
Miikka handed her an autographed puck and a key chain. “If she feels better next season, and your family would like to come to a game, please call this number and tell them I gave it to you.” He handed her a business card.
The woman’s eyes flooded with tears. “I don’t think Kaylee will be here in the fall, but thank you.”
“I’m very sorry.” He squeezed her hand, glanced back at Kaylee and then walked into the hallway. He leaned against the wall as Logan came out behind him.
“You okay, man?” he asked.
“She won’t be here in the fall,” he whispered, looking at his friend. “She’s just a baby… This is… paska.” Shit.
“I know. It’s hard sometimes. Just think about how you got her to smile, you made her laugh, she fell asleep holding the bear… This is what we can do, you know?”
“Will you remind me to find out how to write check to donate?”
Logan nodded. “Absolutely. Come on, let’s go to the next room. It’s a boy named Charlie. That should get you nice and confused.”
Miikka chuckled but his heart hurt for these kids. He couldn’t imagine how their parents felt or what he would do if it was ever one of his children. He promised himself he would come more often, though. These kids needed something to look forward to more than he’d realized, and whether his English sucked or not, he was going to try to be better about this. Maybe Charli would even want to go with him sometime.
10
After visiting the hospital, which had wound up being more enjoyable than he’d anticipated, Miikka was driving home when he remembered Charli’s new faucet. Instead of calling, he decided to stop by and surprise her. He needed a distraction to keep him from thinking about poor Kaylee, and Charli’s house needed a ton of work. While he respected the fact that she wanted to do it herself, realistically that would take forever, especially since she only had time on the weekends. Besides, he just wanted to see her. He’d thought of little else but the heated kiss they’d shared at the front door the night before.
He got out of his truck and walked to the front door, knocking briskly.
“Miikka.” Charli looked startled. Her hair was in its usual single braid, but today there were loose strands everywhere and her face was a little red. “What are you doing here?”
“I had time. I thought maybe I could help with faucet.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “That’s very thoughtful. I’m in the middle of a mess, but come on in.”
“What happened?” he asked, following her into the kitchen.
“The dishwasher died an ugly, soapy death,” she said.
There was sudsy water all over the kitchen floor, and the door to the dishwasher was open.
“Oh, boy.” He looked around. “You have towels?”
“Yeah, I was just about to get some.”
“Okay, I help.”
“Miikka, you don’t have to…”
“I’m here,” he said gently. “It’s okay. Don’t be so…stubborn.”
She flashed him a little grin before disappearing up the stairs and he paused to take off his shoes and socks. He rolled up his jeans so they didn’t get wet and then waded into the inch or so of water all over the kitchen. This was another nightmare for poor Charli, and while his gut reaction would be to simply buy her a new dishwasher, he had a feeling she wouldn’t let him.
He hated being in this position, where he could help someone but they were too proud to allow it. He understood, though. They barely knew each other, after all, but it felt like they’d been friends forever, even though it had only been a couple of weeks.
“Okay, I’ve got some towels,” Charli called out, coming back into the kitchen. She rounded the corner and took a step just as her foot slipped out from under her.
“Charli!” Miikka reached for her but the floor was slippery and though he caught her hand, the force of her fall brought him down too and he practically landed on top of her.
“Ouch.” She looked up at him with a chuckle.
“Sorry!” He looked down at her wryly, though he was acutely aware of their closeness, how soft and curvy she was. “You are okay? You’re!” He caught himself before she could correct him and they both laughed.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Yes. Sorry. I try to catch you.”
“I didn’t realize how slippery it was.” They were still lying on the floor, water seeping into their clothes, but she was laughing a little and he realized it had been a long time since he’d been this comfortable with a woman. Even wet and dirty on her kitchen floor, he didn’t feel foolish or annoyed. He just wanted to help, make her life a little better the way she was making his better by helping him with his English.
“If you want to take a bath together,” he whispered, “you have only to ask.” He waved his hand at the mess on the floor. “This is not my first choice for foreplay.”
She smiled. “Trust me, this wouldn’t be my first choice either.”
“But kissing… This is also a good choice, yes?”
“Oh. Yes.”
He leaned over and slanted his head, nibbling her lower lip and sliding his hands around her back to keep her from resting her head on the wet floor. He pressed his tongue past the seam of her lips, taking slow, sexy pulls, until their mouths opened wider and they pressed together tightly.
“I like the way you kiss,” she whispered when he pulled away. “I could do this all day.”
“I like the way you kiss also, and we can do this all day if you like.”
“I do like, but I think we need to clean this up first.” She looked around ruefully.
He slowly sat up, nodding. “Come, let’s do it.” He got to his feet and reached out his hands to help her up. “You try to dry the floor and I’ll see if I can fix dishwasher.”
“You know anything about dishwashers?” she asked.
He shrugged. “My father taught me much, so I can try.”
“Okay.” She started spreading the towels out all over the kitchen while he knelt and used the flashlight feature on his phone to look inside the dishwasher.
He didn’t know that much about them, but he hoped it would be something easy. Unfortunately, nothing stood out and short of taking the whole thing apart, he wouldn’t be able to do anything else.
“Nothing, huh?” She peered over his shoulder. “I guess I’ll call someone tomorrow. Good thing I don’t have to work.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She straightened up and looked around. “Well, the kitchen is a bust, but if you can help me install the new faucet, at least the whole day won’t be a waste.”
“Yes. Let’s do that.” He followed her up the stairs and was momentarily distracted by the swaying of her ass in front of him. He wanted to make love with her so much, but some sixth sense warned him to pace himself, that she might be scared off if he got too serious too soon. She’d mentioned bad previous relationships, though she hadn’t talked about them in detail, and gave off a gun-shy vibe.
“So you think we can do this?” She turned to him with a bright smile and he forced his gaze up from where it initially landed on her chest. Her very sexy chest and the even sexier cleavage above the V-cut of her T-shirt.
“Yes. I think so.” He reached for the box to give himself something to do. He had to stop thinking about sex or he was going to scare her off.
They got to work, and within the hour, they had the new faucet and taps in place. It looked gorgeous, despite the old and beaten up sink, and the bronze fixtures brought new life to the room.
“What about shower?” he asked her.
“I have a fancy new waterfall showerhead now that there’s enough water pressure
for one,” she replied. “But I’ll get that faucet for the tub next time I’m at the hardware store. Well, probably not for a while since I have to fix the damn dishwasher, but one thing at a time. I love my sink!” She gave him a broad grin that lit up her whole face and he couldn’t help but smile back.
She was adorable and he wanted to kiss her.
All the fucking time.
He followed her downstairs and helped her gather the soaking wet towels. He watched as she took them into the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen, put them in the washing machine, and started it up.
“I don’t do laundry,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb. “I use laundry service and dry cleaner.”
“You never do laundry?” she asked in surprise.
“I never learn.” He paused. “This is bad, right? I’m a big laundry loser.”
She laughed. “You’re funny. And no, you’re not a loser, but I can teach you if you want.”
“Maybe next time?” He winked at her and she smiled back.
“What about chicken and dumplings? Do you like it?”
He frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You haven’t tried chicken and dumplings?” She looked up at him as she moved back into the kitchen.
“I never tried, no.”
“Well, let’s fix that tonight. You’ll stay for dinner?”
“Yes. Thank you.” The last woman to cook him dinner had been his sister, when she’d come to visit a couple of months ago, and he loved home-cooked meals. Occasionally his friends’ wives cooked and invited him over, but that wasn’t often enough for his liking.
“I just have to make the dumplings when it’s time,” she said. “You want to watch a movie until then?”
“I don’t watch many American movies because I don’t understand everything.”
“Well, we can make it a teaching lesson, where I explain things to you, or we can skip the movie and just talk.”
“Let’s talk.”
They settled on the couch and she turned to him curiously. “What do you want to talk about?”