Fresh Ice

by Sarah J. Bradley

  Quinn laughed out loud. “And how old were you?”

  “I think I was fifteen. It was right after Col and I drank that bottle of wine in his office, so he probably figured if I didn’t die from that, I’d be okay.” A wistful smile crossed Izzy’s face. “Talk about not thinking of something in years.”

  Chance told me she puts ice cubes in her wine. “Well, I do believe that’s a painkiller I can work with. Give me a minute.” Quinn returned to the kitchen. I knew that massive collection of wines I’m not drinking would come in handy. He opened cabinet. “You said red, right?”

  “Yeah. Pinot noir, if you’ve got it.”

  “You want pinot noir with ice?”

  “Don’t judge me. My coach got me hooked on cold wine, and one of my running partners liked pinot noir, so I just put the two together.” Her giggle was infectious.

  Quinn smiled. “I’m not judging. I’m thinking you probably wouldn’t do well as a guest judge on some snooty food and wine tasting show, but hey, when it comes to food and wine, I say, ‘whatever gets you through the meal.’”

  “You say that, do you?”

  “I do.”

  “That would explain why you camouflage everything with mushrooms. But whatever you’ve got, wine-wise, is fine.”

  Quinn stared at the wine in his cabinet. I have four bottles of pinot noir. Four, in a sea of other wines. How in the world do I have this vast a collection of wine? A vague memory taunted the back of his mind. Oh yes, wine: the drink of choice for college co-eds who’re trying to be classy for the older guy.

  Am I really going back to that part of my history?

  No, I’m opening a bottle of wine for a completely age appropriate woman. This won’t turn into anything weird. Okay, it might be weird, but it won’t be sex. It definitely will not be sex.

  He poured one glass and dropped two ice cubes into it. Grabbing a can of Vernors’ for himself, he returned to the bed.

  “Oh thank you.” She took a sip from the glass and set it on the nightstand. “It’s okay that I’m drinking, if you’re not?”

  “It’s perfectly fine. Have a glass. Have three. Let’s see where the night takes us.” He kept his tone light to cover the sudden desire flushing his skin.

  This is not how people take it slow.

  This just in…I’m terrible at taking it slow.

  He stretched out on the bed and cracked open the Vernor’s. “I’ve got my Vernor’s, I’m a very happy guy.”

  “Okay.” She took another sip of wine. “So, what’s your big pain killing secret? You’ve got to have something good. Hockey is rough.”

  I have a bottle of hydrocodiene left over from my playing days but I’m not touching that, either. “Well remember, for most of my playing days I numbed my aches and pains over at Chance’s. Nowadays, I have the tried and true: Tylenol.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, not just plain old Tylenol. Tylenol PM.” He opened his nightstand and pulled out the bottle. “A couple of these,” he opened the bottle and shook out two pills, setting them next to his can, “and I’m sound asleep in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’m familiar with the product, but I’ll stay with the wine for now.” She stretched and rolled her feet and groaned. “Did I have this much pain when I was training? I don’t remember any of this hurting so much. I must be old.”

  “You’re not old. Tell you what.” Quinn finished a piece of pizza. “You keep sipping that watery cold wine, and I’ll rub your legs. I used to go out with a trainer who taught me a few things.” And someday, when we aren’t taking it slow, I will share those things with you. Tonight I rub your feet.

  “You are way too good of a guy, Quinn Murray.”

  “Most people would not agree with you.”

  “Most people don’t know you.”

  Most people know what a complete bastard I am.

  ***

  She didn’t miss the awkward pause. It hung between them, a void she wanted to fill, but Quinn seemed disconnected, distant. He kept his eyes locked on her foot.

  “I’m serious, you know. You’ve been so wonderful to me.”

  “You make it easy.” He didn’t look at her. “Not everyone has your ability to bring out the best in people.”

  There was a note of warning in his voice, something subtle, dark. I’m not digging any deeper. Izzy took another sip. “So, Sports Center?”

  “You want something else?”

  “No, it’s fine.” She finished the wine and set the glass on the nightstand. “I need to get going anyway.” Before I decide this is just way too comfortable.

  Quinn shifted from her foot to her calf. Okay, one more minute. Her eyes fluttered closed. The wine and his hands had an electric effect on her. I can’t stay.

  “You don’t need to leave.” His voice was gentle, inviting, like his hands.

  “Quinn…I…” If I stay, he will expect something I am not ready for yet.

  He never stopped massaging her ankles, her legs. “You don’t need to leave.”

  “I’m not…”

  His voice stayed low, soothing, “I know exactly where you are, and I know I’m a hundred miles ahead of you,” he lifted her foot and gave it the lightest kiss.

  What is wrong with me? Izzy tried to push away her misgivings. I’m an adult woman. He’s wonderful. This is completely normal. Why am I fighting this?

  Because I’m not making the same mistakes I made before. He’s my skating partner. I can’t do this.

  She sat up. “Quinn, you…are…wiping out the pain! How are you doing that?” She stared at him, as if seeing his hands for the first time. “My knee doesn’t hurt at all.”

  He smiled warmly. “And I did it without using that voodoo goo you brought.”

  “I can’t remember a time when my knee didn’t ache at least a little.” She glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s late. I gotta go.”

  “Wait.” Quinn set her leg on the bed and slid next to her. “Look, Izzy, you and I, we both have issues…when it comes to relationship stuff, right?”

  “That is a minor understatement.”

  “So let me put your mind at ease.” He grabbed his can of Vernors’ and took a drink. “I like having you here. You make this place less empty.” He set the can on the nightstand. “I’d like you to stay. You could have a second glass of watered down wine, I’ll keep massaging your legs. We can talk, or watch a movie, or just overdose on Sports Center until we fall asleep. And I swear, I won’t…you know, unless you want me to.”

  She couldn’t miss the hint of humor in his otherwise sincere words. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Not in the least. I think we’re trying to build something here, but we aren’t exactly traditional nine to five folks. So maybe dating means spending the night together in a completely platonic, non-naked sort of way.” His grin was wicked, but the light in his eyes was honest.

  Izzy yawned and stretched her arms over her head. It would be nice not to leave when I’m this ridiculously comfortable. She studied Quinn with a careful eye. I can trust him. He’s my partner. She shivered. I trusted Jason, too.

  Quinn isn’t Jason. There’s no hidden agenda. There aren’t any parents pulling strings. There’s no gold medal at the end of the rainbow. We’re just two people.

  “I’d really like it if you lost the argument you’re currently having with yourself.”

  She blinked, and nodded at him. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  His eyes glowed. “I’ll be back in a moment with another frosty glass of wine.” He moved to the kitchen quickly, and returned, her glass filled, two ice cubes bobbing in the black-red liquid. “There you go,” He handed her the glass.

  She didn’t miss his grateful, almost shy expression. “Thank you, Quinn.” She sipped the wine as he returned to her leg. “And, thank you.”

  “For what?” He kept his gaze fixed on her calf muscle.

  Izzy took another sip. “When Jason and I…he told me it would make us better
skaters. I had no idea what it all meant.”

  “People like to think it means nothing.” Quinn eased her leg upward, stretching her hamstring. “Let me know if this hurts.” He leaned forward gently. “You know, they say that no matter how casual people want to be, our bodies aren’t wired to believe sex is a casual thing.” He backed up, set her right leg down and repeated the stretch on her left leg. “They say our bodies make promises our brains maybe aren’t even aware of.”

  His face closer to hers, Izzy longed to believe the promise his eyes made. She exhaled as he sat back again, and let her leg rest. “They say that?”

  He finished stretching her leg and slid next to her. “They say that.”

  “Well, I don’t know what promises Jason and I made to each other. It was never like they write in books.”

  Quinn chuckled and draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve found it rarely is like they write in books.”

  Izzy took another sip of wine and set the glass on the nightstand. “You’d be the expert in the room.” She meant it as a joke, but a shadow passed over Quinn’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. You’re completely right. I used to never understand why women got so worked up about it when I broke things off. I thought it was just because I was so magnificent.” His grin eased her misgivings.

  She wanted to say something clever, but his expression was so open, so bare, she didn’t want to hurt him. “So then here we are.”

  “Here we are.” He took her hand in his and pulled her closer. His lips brushed the top of her head lightly.

  She closed her eyes, wrapped in his arms. Images of the day blinked in her brain, like grainy photos in an old picture show. The last of her tension vanished with Quinn’s second kiss, brushed just above her ear. Izzy let herself float.

  Candles circled the rink like a warm halo. There’s no music, just the cold, smooth slice of blade against ice as she glides from one side of the rink to the other. Quinn is there, beside her, guiding her, shadowing her, but never pushing, never forcing her to go any faster than her feet will carry her.

  She senses the woman before she sees her. Izzy stops short, a spray of snow flies around her feet.

  The woman looks familiar. There’s a glow in her eyes that strikes something deep in Izzy’s soul, something cold. The candles darken, extinguished by an unseen breath. Izzy stares into the darkness, trying to see the woman better, but the woman is gone. All Izzy hears is a cold, angry hiss.

  Izzy’s eyes snapped open. A moment, maybe two, maybe not even that much had passed. Quinn’s arms were a fortress around her. He’d never let me fall. Without a second thought, she reached up and brushed his cheek with her fingertips.

  Surprise flashed in his eyes, replaced by the glow of desire that matched the stirring within her. Izzy laid her hand on his cheek, and brought him close enough to kiss away the whisper of uncertainty between them.

  He needed no further invitation. His kisses were light, a breath of warmth on her eyelids, her cheekbones, her lips. Supporting her with his right arm, Quinn caressed her with his left hand, softly, sensually, waking a foreign heat deep within her. He brushed his lips down her throat, murmuring words distinct only to her heart. She shivered but was not chilled as he slid the shirt and shorts from her body, and let them fall next to his own smoothly removed clothes.

  Skin against skin, Izzy closed her eyes, losing herself in the arousal simmering like molten gold just beneath the surface. She pressed her hands against his broad chest, his heat leaping through her fingertips straight to the deepest recesses of her being.

  Vaguely she was aware of sounds; an opening drawer, tearing cellophane. The only sound that meant anything to her was Quinn’s soft growl of pleasure. The ache to melt into him was strong and she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him with her legs when he tried to arch away. Don’t let go. Don’t let me fall.

  “Izzy.”

  Quinn’s voice was far away, deep in his throat. “Open your eyes.”

  She obeyed. He hovered over her, his eyes the only light in the room.

  “I want to see you,” he whispered. “Isabella.”

  His gaze held her, supported her as much as his body. She didn’t blink and they flowed together, wrapped so tightly around each other they moved, and breathed, and soared as one being. Fire and lightening flashed through her as she saw the promise of forever deep in Quinn’s eyes.

  Then the heat cooled to comforting warmth, and, like the final pose of a routine, Izzy relaxed in Quinn’s arms, complete and secure.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “My timing sucks.”

  Izzy grinned at Quinn, who stared at the airport security line as if he were about to join a death march. “You’ll be back in a few days.”

  “Yes, but how can I leave you when all I can think about is…”

  “Are you blushing?”

  “I might be.” He swept her into an embrace and kissed her, leaving her breathless. “Benny’s going to have a stroke if I don’t get to the gate in the next five minutes.”

  “Call me when you land.”

  His eyes bespoke volumes. “Think about me.”

  Like I could think about anything else. She kissed him again and let him go.

  Back at her apartment, Izzy thought about getting some sleep, but realized she wasn’t tired. I’m such a cliché. I’m all energized and wide eyed after a very nice night.

  She had no interest for anything other than staring at her dark television screen and checking the clock every five minutes. Clock watching is not going to bring him back faster. I have a million things I should be doing. I could go practice. I could send out some more invitations to the event. I could…

  I could just sit here, on this bed, and pretend Quinn is coming back in a few minutes.

  Her phone buzzed. Oh good, something to make the time go more quickly. “Hey Col, how’s New York?”

  “Boring. Everyone here thinks they’re so much cooler than I am.”

  Izzy laughed. “When you are truly the coolest of all.”

  There was a pause on the phone. “I thought I’d check in and see how you were. You sounded rough last night.”

  Izzy closed her eyes and smiled. “Nope, I’m great. Perfect.”

  There was another pause. “Are you sure? You still sound weird.”

  “I do?” She couldn’t suppress a short giggle at the end of the sentence.

  Collier was quiet again “Izzy…did you…”

  Her giggles subsided as warning bells rang in Izzy’s head. Of course he’s not going to take this well.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  “Col, come on.”

  “How could you?”

  She didn’t have to imagine his face. She’d seen it before, twenty years earlier. “I didn’t plan it.”

  “No, of course not. You didn’t plan it the last time.”

  “There’s no need to get mean. You know Quinn and I have had feelings for each other, that we’ve sort of been seeing each other.”

  “I don’t know anything like that. I know he is a womanizing hound dog and you think sex is some sort of key to skating greatness.”

  “Collier!” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice.

  “What am I supposed to feel? Tell me that. I thought…”

  “You thought what? You thought I’d fall in love with you?”

  “Clearly I’d be an idiot if I said yes. Still, Izzy, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to sleep with your skating partner… again.”

  “Don’t be like that.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Don’t.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

  “I expect you to be a grown up.”

  There was a pause. “Maybe when it comes to you, I’m just not.”

  “Collier!” Dead air met her anguished cry. Izzy ended the phone call at stared at the dark display. I should have realized it. I just thought it was
funny; their bickering back and forth. I didn’t know it was real.

  She set her phone on the bed and pictured Quinn on the plane. She felt better. Then, remembering the hurt in Collier’s voice, she felt worse for feeling better.

  ***

  “Quinn! You will not believe what I just saw!”

  Returning to a nearly empty airport bar after trying to make some calls, Quinn heaved a sigh. His connecting flight to Montreal was delayed and hanging out with Benny in an airport bar was the last thing he wanted to do. The first thing he wanted to do was get on the next flight to Nashville, and take Izzy back in his arms. I’m always leaving her to go someplace I don’t want to be.

  Benny’s giddiness was not to be contained. “You see that guy at the bar. Doesn’t he look familiar?”

  Everyone in an airport bar seems familiar.

  The man at the bar, however, was more than familiar. A small smile played on Quinn’s lips. Poor devil, wonder if he’s writing another love song about Izzy. Quinn couldn’t suppress the quiver of triumph sparking up his spine at the memory of the previous night.

  “That guy was on the phone and got into an argument with someone, a woman I think, and then when he hung up, he slammed half a dozen shots right in a row. I mean it’s barely noon. I haven’t seen drinking like that since you were in your prime. But then a woman comes up to him.”

  Quinn wanted to sink into the overstuffed leather chair and ignore Benny’s chatter. He wanted to close his eyes and bring to mind every sensation from the night before. He didn’t care about Collier, or Collier’s drinking habits before noon on a Monday. Given Benny’s expression, however, Quinn knew he couldn’t ignore the conversation. “What kind of woman?”

  “You would not believe it, but I could have sworn it was Boss Lady!”

  Quinn’s chest tightened. She was going shopping in New York, but she flew in last night. She wouldn’t still be in the airport. “It’s not possible.”

  “I know, right? But I could have sworn it, until she took off her scarf. She had short hair, pretty short anyway, and dark, almost like yours.”