Fresh Ice

by Sarah J. Bradley

  “My hero isn’t just about doling out rent money. Sometimes he gets rowdy college boys to be polite.”

  “You would have been fine.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I had a hundred different scenarios running through my head and all of them ended with the day waitress coming in and finding my dead body on table three. But there you were, you said a few words and they were gone. Every time I saw you in the restaurant, I felt less anxious about working there. As long as you’re around, I feel safe. No, I won’t be running away.” She shivered, the chilly air working its way through the blanket.

  “It’s getting cold out here.” Quinn hopped up immediately. “What say, we get you indoors and out of that dress?”

  “What?” She blushed.

  “Oh, sorry.” He gave her an endearingly sheepish grin. “I mean, I’ve got some warm clothes you might be more comfortable in. I can warm up the coffee, and get the fireplace going, and we could hang out?” He held out his hand and she took it as she stepped into the apartment. He flipped a switch and blue and yellow flames glowed in the fireplace. “There, that’s cozy. Let me just grab something for you to slip into…” he strode into his bedroom and returned a moment later, holding a large wad of pink material. “Here ya go, you can change in the bedroom if you’d like. I’ve got the fireplace going in there as well, so you’re not cold.”

  “I can’t believe you still have this!” She held up the massive pink sweatshirt he’d worn that first rainy morning in the Waffle House. “Why on earth did you keep it?”

  “Very weird thing. I wore it home, and I was going to return it to your lost and found because, who knows when a very well endowed college co-ed was going to come looking for her school spirit shirt. But for some reason I kept forgetting it.” He flashed a wicked grin. “I like to imagine holding onto a woman that would fill out that shirt.”

  “Now that’s not something a hero would ever say!” She laughed.

  “Clearly you are not familiar with the concept of the bad boy hero.” Quinn’s smile was genuine, the first really relaxed expression she’d seen on his face in an hour. “So go get changed, I’ll warm up the coffee.”

  “Can’t do it.” I’m not putting this thing on. I don’t care if I freeze to death.

  “Why not? You’ll be way more comfortable in that. I set some sweat pants on the bed. They’ll be a little long, but warm.”

  “I’m not wearing this when you’re still in your proper date clothes.”

  “You want me out of my clothes? Not a problem!” Quinn slipped off his suit coat, tossed it into his bedroom and pulled his dress shirt over his head in one smooth motion. He stood before her, shirtless, perfect, and obviously aware of the affect he had on her.

  The sweatshirt fell from her hands to the floor. Holy carp, he’s beautiful. “Um, yes, yes, that looks far more comfortable.” She swallowed.

  “I could get more comfortable you know,” He slipped off his shoes and kicked them towards the kitchen. “You just tell me when I’m comfortable enough for you.”

  “Hey, you know, get as comfortable as…I mean it’s your house…you can wear…or not wear…whatever you want to…or not.” Who is saying these things?

  Quinn leaned against the doorframe, hands on his waist, “Miss Izzy?”

  “Um, yes?” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

  “It’s not polite to stare. A good Southern girl like you should know that.”

  Good grief, am I actually salivating? She cleared her throat and set the sweatshirt on the sectional sofa and took a step closer. “A good Southern girl knows to appreciate a work of art.” She didn’t recognize the throaty tone coming out of her mouth.

  A slow smile crossed Quinn’s face. “So you’re appreciating me?”

  His expression called to something deep within her. “Yes. I mean…” she inhaled and tried to regulate her breathing as she took another step. Come on, Izzy!

  This is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “You know,” he crossed the space between them and towered over her, “most people get close to a work of art to appreciate it.”

  “Most people don’t need a step ladder.” Izzy’s attempt to ease the sexual tension failed as her voice oozed thick and heavy with desire.

  He picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Izzy closed her eyes, reveling in the iron strength of his arms. Her set her on her feet, on the bed, and stood before her. “Is this better?”

  Face to face, she lost herself in his perfect eyes. She traced the lines of his jaw. What am I doing, touching him like this?

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, and stared at the floor. He touched her chin, raising her gaze to his eye level. “It’s okay,” he whispered, so softly, she wasn’t positive she’d heard him. “It’s okay.”

  His grip on her waist steadied her, and the glow in his eyes encouraged her inexperienced touch. She retraced his jaw and leaned closer, close enough to breath in his scent.

  He captured her lips in a kiss that began as a slow heat flowing from the point of contact through the rest of her body. There was nothing cold, or automatic, or judgmental in the kiss. Reveling in the heady warmth of it, Izzy closed her eyes and tried to remember the last time a kiss felt so completely good.

  Never.

  The taste of him, the scent of him, everything swirled around her in a warm, sensual wave. Dizzy, floating, she leaned against his solid support. He wrapped one arm around her waist, a firm embrace keeping her close. His other hand traveled upward, resting at the nape of her neck. He toyed with the zipper tab of her dress. Izzy inhaled, waiting for him to free her of the dress, the only barrier between her and the broad expanse of his bare chest.

  A spark of desire flashed in his eyes and ignited a heat between. Izzy melted at his touch as he unzipped her dress and slid the straps off her shoulders. He kissed her throat, following a line from her chin to the front closure of her bra. Without hesitation, he opened it, and her breasts responded instantly to his worshipful kisses.

  Wait. Stop.

  The thoughts came from nowhere, but the damage was done. She stopped kissing Quinn and froze, motionless.

  “Izzy?” His voice was low, far away.

  She didn’t want to meet his eyes.

  “Izzy, look at me.”

  Unwilling to admit her sudden hesitation, and unable to give in to the desire warming her, Izzy stepped back, closed her bra and slid her dress straps back in place. She sat on bed.

  He sat next to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Nothing is wrong. Everything is very, very right. And it scares me to death.

  He seemed to read her thoughts. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I have made a career out of treating women like objects.” He planted a lingering kiss on her neck then broke away from her. “I don’t want you to think that’s the way I feel about you.”

  “Quinn, I’ve had no experience with this.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I need to take it slow.” She closed her eyes and prayed she didn’t sound stupid. Why can’t I find the right words for this situation?

  Because I’ve never been in this situation.

  He kissed her lightly on the head, the brushed some hair from her eyes. The simple caress sparked something them and his lips found hers again. Izzy closed her eyes, and tried to will her misgivings away.

  As if sensing her tension, Quinn pulled away from her with a groan. “Obviously this is not going to be easy.” He stood and reached his hand to her. She turned and let him zip up her dress. “I have to take you home before I convince you to do something you’re not ready to do.”

  His expression was hard, resolute. Izzy ached to smooth the lines of his face, but knew, if she touched him now, there would be no going back. She picked up the sweatshirt and slid it over her head. It was her protective shell against a desire she was not ready to admit. She glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “It’s late.”

  “You�
�re right.” His voice was soft, husky. “I’ll take you home.”

  TWENTY

  They drove to the coffee shop in silence. Quinn ached to know what Izzy was thinking. He was all too aware that she had no experience other than Jason. This is the right thing. It’s the right thing to do. So why do I feel so lousy?

  I have no experience in doing the right thing.

  The coffee shop was dark as Quinn eased his car into the back parking lot. “You know that I’m okay with whatever you want to do. Or not do.” I’m an idiot.

  She unbuckled her seat belt and shifted in her seat. “I appreciate that.”

  He unbuckled, but stared straight ahead. “I have not been terribly decent when it came to women. But you…” he reached out. Her hand was there, waiting for his. “I have a chance to do things the right way. I really want that.” Almost as much as I want you.

  Izzy covered his hand with both of hers. “Thank you. I appreciate that you don’t mind taking whatever this is very, very slowly.”

  “You didn’t have to add that second ‘very’ you know.” Quinn smiled.

  “Maybe not. But it is nice to know you’re listening.”

  Quinn’s cell buzzed. Who is calling me after two in the morning? He pulled his cell out of his left coat pocket. Benny?

  Shit. I forgot. We’re leaving for San Jose in an hour and a half.

  “Is anything wrong?”

  Quinn chuckled. “Nothing is wrong. I completely forgot I have to go to San Jose.”

  “When?”

  “Pretty much now.”

  Izzy stared at him for a moment, and her face broke into a smile. “How do you forget you have to travel across the country?”

  “You want the truth?”

  “Of course.”

  “Spending today, this evening, with you, put every other thought out of my head.” He opened his door, got out, and rounded the car to open the door for her. “I’ll at least walk you to your door.”

  He held her hand as they crossed the gravel lot. Reaching the stoop, she climbed up two steps and looked him in the eye. “I had a really lovely time tonight.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek and turned to unlock the door.

  “I’ll see you next week.” He watched her unlock the door and turned to go back to his car.

  He took two steps. What am I doing?

  “Izzy, wait, I…” he turned and saw her standing on the step, watching him. Without hesitation, he flew to her, pressing her close as he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with an enthusiasm that sent his mind spinning.

  Stop it! Behave yourself!

  Groaning, Quinn broke their embrace. This time he saw his own desire reflected in her heavy lidded eyes. Too well he recognized the look. She wouldn’t think I was forcing her to do anything. And she would hate me in the morning.

  He took a step toward his car, but he knew she was still standing there, waiting. He spun around and wrapped her in his arms again.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “You have to go,” she whispered, her words warm in his ear.

  “I know. I know.” He backed away.

  “So go.”

  He stopped moving. Something in her expression changed. She didn’t seem uncertain. Is she daring me?

  “You are not making this easy for me.”

  Her laughter filled the night sky. “You’re the one who started something and now you have to go away for a week. So go.”

  “I don’t want to go.” I will give everything I have for one more kiss on this stoop.

  If I kiss you one more time, Izzy Marks, I may not be able to let go.

  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Her words were a cool balm on the gaping hole left by his burning desire. His step light, Quinn made it back to his car and drove away.

  ***

  My timing could not suck more. Quinn sat in the narrow plane seat next to Benny and cursed himself, again, for the events of the previous night. I knew I was leaving on this trip. I knew it and I went ahead and opened that door anyway.

  Now I have a week away from her. A lifetime.

  “So you told me weeks ago that you were going to find a woman for me.” Benny drained the last of his diet cola. “Yet, here we sit, another trip, and you have come up with exactly no one and nothing. I’m starting to doubt your abilities in the romance department, my friend.”

  You’re not the only one.

  Quinn closed his eyes and felt Izzy against him, felt the heat of her soft skin. He tasted her lips.

  “Hey, Quinn? Earth to Quinn? We’ve landed, dude.”

  “What?”

  Benny yanked his carry on out of the overhead compartment. “Yeah, I asked about this magical woman you’re supposedly fixing me up with, and you went all space cadet on me. And now, we’re in San Jose.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “Yeah, whatever. The next time you want to just day dream about your sex life, warn me.”

  “What?”

  Benny shook his head. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know your sex daydream face. And you, my friend, were daydreaming big time. So who is she? It’s not Boss Lady, is it? Tell me it’s not her.”

  “Shut up, Benny.”

  “Ooh, touchy. So it’s not Boss Lady. The plot does thicken, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m not having this conversation.”

  “Not having what conversation?” Bob sidled up to them.

  “Quinn was having a sex daydream about someone other than Boss Lady.”

  Bob laughed. “Well, we are in San Jose, which, if I’m recalling correctly, is the scene of some of your biggest conquests, Quinn.”

  Why would I think I could have a normal relationship with anyone? What decent woman would even allow me near them, if this is how my friends think?

  He couldn’t escape the image of Izzy, smiling at him. She would. And I walked away from her.

  Without realizing it, Quinn followed Benny and Bob through the airport to the street where they were calling for him to get into a cab. Quinn stared at the pair as if seeing them for the first time. “Guys, I can’t do this.”

  “Quinn, it’s a cab. You get in, you close the door, and they drive you to a very nice hotel that will have a beautiful room service menu.” Benny called.

  “No, I mean, I have to go. I have to go home.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, Bob, I am. I’ll meet you guys on Friday, in the Twin Cities. I just…I have to go.”

  Benny jumped out of the cab. “What the hell dude? You can’t just run out. You’ve got two games to do before we get to the Wild game.”

  “Cover for me, Benny. Please?”

  Benny paused and smiled. “This must be a big deal, huh?”

  “The biggest.”

  “Okay. Okay. We’ll figure out something. But be in the Twin Cities on Friday.”

  “I promise.”

  “And Quinn?’

  “Find that woman for me, okay?”

  Quinn laughed. “I will, I swear. But first I have to go see someone. And if she’ll talk to me, I might be able to find you someone really great.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” Benny got back into the cab.

  “I know.”

  “Boss Lady is going to be pissed that you went off the grid.”

  “I know that, too.” Quinn waved as the cab pulled away from the curb. Without another thought, he went into the airport and booked a flight home.

  TWENTY-ONE

  She slept most of the day. Wrapped in the sweatshirt that still held Quinn’s clean scent, Izzy woke in a very pleasant mood. She lay in bed, her eyes closed, recalling the previous evening. The way he kissed me…

  She could not suppress her giggle.

  “Oh look, she’s up! Jenna! Your mother’s awake!”

  Cat and Jenna burst into Izzy’s room, a tray full of coffee, baked goods, and expectations in hand.

  “Go
od morning girls.”

  “So,” Cat handed her a cup of coffee. “How was it?”

  “It was fine.” Izzy drank the bitter brew deeply and tried to hide the blush she knew colored her cheeks.

  “Oh, just fine? Jenna, take a look at your mother. She is a changed woman.”

  “Cat, I’m not sure I want to share my evening with my daughter.”

  “And, speaking as the daughter, I’m not sure I want to hear it.”

  Cat unwrapped a muffin and took a bite. “Oh please. Jenna, your mother rolled into the shop this morning at half past two, wearing that shirt and Quinn Murray’s lips.”

  “Somebody was up way too late.”

  Cat shrugged. “The upside to my weird life is I get to see some serious post date kissin’ on my back porch.”

  Jenna studied the sweatshirt. “Wasn’t that in the lost and found at the Waffle House?”

  “It was.”

  “Please tell me you two didn’t go on a date to the Waffle House!”

  “What would be wrong with that?”

  Cat laughed. “I think what we really are hoping is that you didn’t have the big rogerin’ on one of the tables, and then don that outfit to cover your shame.”

  “We’re British this morning again, are we, Cat?” Izzy set her cup on the nightstand.

  “I’m all about Sherlock Holmes this week.” Cat assumed a very proper air. “What I deduce from the state this woman is in, Watson, is that she was the victim of some very active lovin’, and didn’t want the rest of the world to know that she’d spent the night in the arms of a lover.”

  “But perhaps she was on an early morning jog, Holmes.” Jenna attempted a British accent. “Which would be far more preferable to those of us who would rather not think about it.”

  “Quite impossible, Watson, so suck it up. You see, there, on the floor, next to her bed, is a pair of high heeled dress shoes. The very shoes, I might add she was seen wearing at a half past two when she arrived home.”

  “Holmes, you’re a genius!”

  “Holmes, you’re nuts.” Izzy lay back on her pillows, trying to ignore the gales of laughter from the other two. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that kiss was all the active loving that happened.”