Lindsey blinked. “You’re making me nervous again.” She placed her hand on his chest. “You’re sweet to offer, but you need to be here with your team. I can Skype you in or something.”
“Not the same.”
She looped her arms about his neck. “I know. But I’m saying no.” She kissed him then, and he didn’t feel like he’d been let down at all.
Lindsey held onto the wall edging the ice-skating rink with an iron grip. She couldn’t even walk in the ice skates Nelson had rented for her, let alone skate. And she was pretty sure she’d wrenched her ankle a dozen times. They hurt, her toes were pinched, and she was cold.
But Nelson seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.
“Come on,” he said, skating toward her again, then slowing down. He grasped her by the waist, and she clung to his arms so she wouldn’t lose her balance. Again.
“Just hold onto me,” he said close to her ear.
The kids at the rink—kids who could not be more than four years old—were skating about like miniature Olympic ice skaters. Theoretically, if they could do it, she could too, right?
Nelson skated backwards, pulling her with him, and it was all she could do to stay upright. She held onto his arms, and her skates glided forward, but she felt as stiff as a board.
“You need to move your feet,” he said. “Sort of like walking, but pushing away from the ice at the same time.”
She tried, but a skate slipped out.
“I’ve got you,” he said, keeping her upright. He was trying not to laugh, that she was sure of. “Bend your knees a little. That’s the way.”
Her skating wasn’t improving. A few steps, then she was losing her balance again. “I think I’m good,” she said, breathless, although she’d barely exercised. “I’ll just watch you from that nice bench over there.”
Nelson chuckled. “What? You think I’m going to put on a figure-skating show?”
“You can do whatever you want on the ice,” she said. “I’m happy to watch. I won’t feel left out, I promise.”
A seven-year-old girl whizzed past them.
Lindsey sighed. Maybe if she’d taken up ice skating as a kid, she would be half decent at this.
“Look at me,” Nelson said. “Focus on my face and relax. Don’t worry about anyone else. Let your body get used to the feel of being on ice.”
Lindsey shifted her gaze to his gray eyes. She loved his eyes. And she loved the way he was gazing at her. With affection and amusement—and it was like she could feel how much he cared about her from how he looked at her.
“You can breathe too,” he said. “And although I don’t mind you holding onto my arms, your nails are kind of sharp.”
“Oh, sorry.” She relaxed her grip, but only a tad. “Maybe you should have worn your protective hockey gear to save yourself from desperately clinging women.”
Nelson did laugh then.
“I think I’m craving hot chocolate,” she tried again.
“Twice around, that’s all I ask.”
It was hard to say no to the pleading in his eyes. “Okay, twice. Starting from the place you found me. So that’d be at least halfway already done, right?”
“Deal,” he said. “Now, keep doing what you’re doing, but let go of one of my arms. You choose which arm.”
She exhaled, then lowered her left hand.
“See, you’re doing great,” he said.
“That’s because you’re still holding onto me.”
“Keep on skating,” he said, releasing her waist, then linking their hands. “Let go of my other arm.”
She did. Now they were only holding hands, and she was still skating.
Another kid whizzed past her, but she kept her focus of putting one foot in front of the other.
“Okay, we’re going to speed up a little,” Nelson said. “You’ll realize it’s easier to skate when you’re going faster.”
“Not too fast,” Lindsey said immediately.
He chuckled. “At your pace.”
And before she realized it, they’d skated twice around the arena.
“Do you want to try once on your own?” he asked, slipping his hand from hers.
“Wait.”
But he’d already let go and was skating in front of her now, backwards. “You’re fine,” he said. “Your feet and body have the rhythm down already. Just go with it.”
She still felt wobbly, but she was skating, on her own, without holding onto anything. It was an exhilarating feeling. The cool air brushing past her, the smooth ice beneath her feet, the feeling of her body gliding. Then falling.
Nelson nearly caught her, but she hit the ice before anything could be done.
She sat on her rear, stunned for a moment. “Are you laughing?”
“I’m not laughing.”
He was laughing.
She grasped his outstretched hand. “Now can I get hot chocolate?” she asked after he pulled her to her feet.
“The most important thing about ice skating is to get back up and keep skating after you’ve fallen,” he said.
Lindsey peered up at him. “You sound like a meme.”
He grinned. “Come on, I won’t let go. But you’ve gotta shake it off.”
She held onto his hand, maybe tighter than necessary, as they skated another round. When he led her off the ice, she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to get hot chocolate.”
Nelson squeezed her hand, then they walked over to the bench. Well, Lindsey wobbled.
She sat down with a sigh. “I should have taken it up when I was about eight. Those kids out there are amazing.”
“Don’t cut yourself short,” Nelson said. “You’re ten times better now than when you first stepped on the ice. Besides, it’s not like you don’t have other skills and talents.”
“True.” She tugged at the knot of the laces on one of her ice skates. “We can’t all be pro hockey players or seven-year-old ice-skating prodigies.”
“Here, I’ll get those off for you,” he said, grasping her ankle. “What did you do, triple knot the laces?”
“I didn’t want them to fall off,” she said.
Nelson shook his head, but he was smiling. “You have these tied so tight, I don’t think they would have come off if someone tried to yank them.”
Lindsey watched Nelson work the laces loose on her ice skates. Warmth rushed to her cramped feet, almost painful, but a relief all the same.
When Nelson had patiently untied her second skate, he tugged off her socks that she’d had to buy from the rink. Then he turned to his own skates and had them off in mere seconds. Well, he was a professional.
Lindsey buckled on the wedge sandals that she’d worn to the rink and stood from the bench. Immediately, she grasped the wall in front of her. “Oh wow. This feels weird.” She felt like she was walking on a moving surface.
“Give it a few seconds,” Nelson said, grasping her hand again. “I think hot chocolate will make it even better.”
After they returned the skates and Lindsey threw away the purchased socks, they headed to the snack bar. Lindsey wished she weren’t flying out that night. She was already missing him. His coach had called a second practice today, so in a couple of hours, they’d say goodbye.
Coming to Vegas had only solidified that she liked Nelson very much. And she wanted to spend more time with him. If there was any point in her career that was flexible with time, this was it. But she didn’t want to be burned down the road because of not putting in enough effort now.
Nelson had told her the first two games in the conference finals would be in Vegas. Then games three and four would be in Florida. If there was a game five, it would be back in Vegas. Lindsey would see how the next few days went, then maybe she’d return to Vegas for game two.
And she didn’t think Nelson would mind, because he was currently watching her from across the little table they were sitting at near the snack bar.
“What?” she said, trying not to smile.
The hot chocolate was definitely doing its job and beginning to thaw her out.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You’re staring at me.”
He smirked. “I’m just wondering what you’re thinking about.”
“Isn’t that what the woman is supposed to say?”
“I’m not a conventional guy,” Nelson said.
Lindsey couldn’t agree more. “A woman’s got to have her secrets, you know.”
Nelson nodded, but she could see that he clearly didn’t agree. He sipped his hot chocolate. “So what do you want to do for our countdown?”
“Countdown?”
“You know, until I have practice and you have to leave.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Always, but I can’t eat a lot before a practice.”
Lindsey smiled. “Then let’s go somewhere to eat that’s light.” They didn’t have time for a movie, and if they went back to his place, she knew they’d probably just end up on the couch kissing and trying not to cross too many lines.
As they headed out of the rink and across the parking lot to his truck, Lindsey tried not to wince at the pain in her feet. She was pretty sure she’d have blisters.
“Are you okay?” Nelson asked, observant as always.
“Yeah,” she said. “Next time I’ll have to go one size up on the ice skates.”
He used his key fob and unlocked the truck, then opened the passenger door for her.
When he climbed in the other side, he didn’t start the engine but said, “Let me see your feet.”
“What? Why?”
“So I can rub them out.”
Lindsey felt the heat rush to her face. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He seemed sincere.
“Seriously, they probably stink, and—”
He grasped her calf and hauled her leg up on the seat.
She was too stunned to protest anymore. So she turned more toward him.
Nelson unbuckled her wedge sandal on her left foot, then set the shoe on the seat. He began to rub her foot, gently.
Lindsey could only stare. And blush. She’d never had a guy do something like this for her. It was . . . intimate . . . and it felt amazing.
“If I’m hurting you, let me know,” he said, glancing up at her.
“Not hurting,” she said.
He smiled, then looked down again to resume his work.
Lindsey sighed and relaxed as much as possible in her position. “You’re a man of many talents, Tyler Nelson. Are you a part-time masseuse or something?”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “No, I’ve had my feet rubbed out many times by trainers, so I know a few things.”
Boy, he sure knew those few things well. His very capable fingers moved from the top of her foot to her ankle. Lindsey was insanely glad she’d shaved and that her last pedicure had only been a few days ago. Although she still worried a little about the odor. But Nelson didn’t seem bothered, and in truth, she couldn’t smell anything.
He picked up her other leg and unbuckled her shoe.
Lindsey exhaled, the butterflies in her stomach doing nosedives.
Nelson started on the other foot, and it was as if her body knew what was coming. Heat traveled from where he was touching her all the way up her leg and into her body. There was no denying it. Tyler Nelson was probably the sexiest man she knew. And he was caring. Generous. And for some reason he liked her, enough to rub out her sore feet after she’d whined for an hour while they ice skated.
Nelson stopped with the foot rub all too soon, yet it was a good thing he had, because Lindsey’s resolve to stay away from his apartment had all but disappeared.
To top everything off, he put her shoes back on, and when he struggled with the tiny buckle, she leaned forward and finished. She slid her feet to the bottom of the truck and moved closer to Nelson.
“Thank you,” she said, and she looped her arms about his neck.
His gray gaze held hers as he said, “You’re welcome,” in a soft tone.
Lindsey didn’t think any woman in her right mind could blame her for kissing Nelson then. He definitely deserved her gratitude, and right now, this was how she was going to express it.
Nelson slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer as he kissed her back. “I guess now I know what you like,” he murmured in a raspy voice.
She smiled. “Any time you’re in the mood to rub my feet, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Like right now?” he said, his breath warm against her neck.
She ran her fingers through his hair, then across the back of his neck. His skin was warm, and when her fingers moved to his jaw, she traced the whiskers there that he hadn’t shaved this morning. “I’m taking like five rainchecks,” she said. “Because I’d rather eat with you than in the airport or on the plane.”
The edges of his mouth lifted, then he kissed her again. “Okay, babe, let’s go then.”
She’d always thought the term babe was cheesy, but when Nelson said it to her, she only heard affection. And she was not going to complain about it, ever.
Nelson released her to start the truck, and she only moved over a few inches to give him room to drive. Her feet did feel amazingly better, and every pinch of the ice skates and her multiple falls had been worth this.
Monday morning’s practice had been light, in preparation for the game that night against the Florida Ducks. But Nelson found himself in the training room, an ice bag strapped to his knee. Thankfully everyone, including Coach, had already left, so it was just Nelson and the team trainer, Riley.
“There’s some swelling,” Riley said with a frown as he felt around Nelson’s knee after the first fifteen minutes of ice.
“It’s not hurting, though.” Much. Yeah, there was some achiness, and Nelson wanted to protect his knee as much as possible. “That’s good, right?”
“It’s good,” Riley confirmed, but his tone was tight. “One more ice pack, then you can get home and rest.”
Nelson dropped his head back onto the padded table while Riley strapped the second ice pack to his knee. Rest? He’d had too much rest in Vegas. In fact, he’d done less since getting back into the season than he had in Pine Valley with Maddy. Tonight was the first game in the conference finals. Hopefully they’d win four right out of the gate, then they’d go straight to the Stanley Cup.
Once they got through the Stanley Cup, Nelson was going to take a full month off—in Pine Valley. He wouldn’t tell Coach until it was necessary. And he wasn’t going to tell Lindsey yet. If things kept progressing with her, he wanted to spend more time with her than phone calls and a day here and there. He wanted to get to know her better, because he wanted to know if he could trust his instincts.
Instincts that made it clear his life was moving in a direction that he hadn’t planned . . . at least hadn’t thought could happen for years. Nelson didn’t know if he was in love with Lindsey, but so far, it was the closest he’d ever come. He liked everything about her, and he supposed that he might be blinded by his own attraction to her to overlook any flaws—which of course existed. But nothing that he could pick out or potentially see as a deal-breaker. Except for maybe where she lived.
Nelson exhaled slowly. Lindsey living in Pine Valley was definitely a barrier, but not impossible, right?
A timer went off, and Nelson opened his eyes.
Riley walked back to the table. “Keep me posted on how you’re feeling,” he said. “I can come in early tonight if you need me.”
“I will,” Nelson said, moving to a sitting position.
Riley pulled off the ice bag, and Nelson got off the table. His knee was numb enough that he didn’t feel the earlier achiness, only a cold ache now.
He picked up his duffle from one of the benches, then headed out of the training room and locker area. Once in his truck, he turned his cell phone on. Several texts chimed through. The first one he saw was from his sister, wishing him luck and saying she’d be
coming to game two on Wednesday night.
The next text was from Lindsey, continuing the flirty text banter they’d been engaged in before practice, in which they were trying to guess each other’s biggest flaw.
Lindsey’s earlier text had read: You don’t keep any leftovers, so in essence you’re wasting money that could be put to good use somewhere else.
Nelson had no problem defending himself. I’m fairly skilled at knowing how much I’ll eat, so I rarely have leftovers in the first place. Besides, I thought you were starving the other night. Maybe your big flaw is that you like to tell people what to do.
Lindsey had sent a laughing emoji, then wrote: Only if they need direction. Which I think you have plenty of.
So it’s not a flaw? he’d written.
Not for you, she’d replied.
Now it had been a couple hours since her last text, and he wrote, I’ve had time to think about what your real flaw must be.
The three dots in the texting app danced, and he smiled. She must not be too swamped to reply right away.
Don’t hold me in suspense, big guy.
Nelson smiled. You haven’t made plans to come to Vegas again.
No reply for two full minutes, and Nelson wondered if he’d blown it. She knew he couldn’t go to Pine Valley—it wasn’t an option until after the Stanley Cup, if the team got that far. But when he’d taken her to her hotel last Saturday, they hadn’t really committed to a next time.
The three dots jumped, indicating she was writing back.
Nelson stared at his phone screen, hoping that he hadn’t screwed up by presuming too much. She was plenty busy, and he couldn’t expect . . .
What makes you think I don’t already have plans to come to Vegas?
His pulse jumped, and he couldn’t stand it any longer. He pressed SEND on her number.
When she answered, he could hear the smile in her voice. “Are you messing with me, Lindsey Gerber?” he asked.
“When have I ever messed with you, Tyler Nelson?”
Hearing her voice only made him miss her more. “Right now,” he said. “This exact moment. You’re messing with my mind and my heart.”
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