The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series)

by Ellis, Aven

  But I don’t feel tired at all. I feel exhilarated. That my world is about to open up to all kinds of new things because of Nate.

  I reach for my phone on my nightstand and see I have a few Connectivity updates and text messages. Excitement shoots through me when I see one of the updates is from Nate. I quickly go to my Connectivity account first:

  Nate Johansson Update: Had a great night in Dallas last night. Feeling more at home than ever lately.

  This is because of me. I know it is. I don’t even need to see a mirror to know I’m beaming from his wonderfully sweet words.

  Then I access my text messages and see I have one from Nate:

  Good morning, Bae. Hope you slept well.

  I happily flop back down on my pillows and send Nate a flirty text back:

  Good morning, Nate. I did. And I’m so not Bae.

  I wait to see if he replies, which he does instantly, much to my delight:

  You have to be. I made my ringtone for you “Come Get It, Bae” and it’s too much of a pain in the ass to change it.

  I laugh and message him back:

  I’ll need to hear that to believe it.

  Nate again replies right back:

  Wanna hear it tonight?

  My stomach flips with sheer excitement. Nate wants to see me again. Another step he wants to take.

  And he wants to take it with me.

  I eagerly respond:

  I would love to.

  My heart flutters as I wait for him to message me back. We had already discussed our schedules last night. Nate is going to train twice today. I know he’s skating and doing agility drills, and then he has a Pilates session, too. Which surprised me. I had no idea hockey players did yoga and Pilates as part of their training. But as I felt Nate’s hard, cut abs last night underneath his T-shirt, I fully embrace him doing so.

  Nate’s reply still hasn’t come up yet, so I think of my day ahead while I wait. I’m doing a lecture for a gardening club tomorrow on the use of herbs and flowers in confections, so I’m making truffles today with herbal and floral flavors. Then I have to finish my presentation for a sushi restaurant, one in which I’m going to show them how to pair chocolate and green tea for dessert options. And if it goes well, I’ll be their source for the chocolates.

  And then there’s lunch with Amanda and my mom at NorthPark Mall. I wrinkle my nose as I think of it. Mom is very dramatic, and lately all she can talk about is my dad’s new girlfriend. Who happens to be the same age as Amanda. Thankfully Amanda and the girls will be there to help distract Mom, who is still bitter and focused on the divorce, which happened years ago.

  Suddenly Nate’s reply drops in, interrupting my thoughts:

  Sorry, had to finish making my protein shake so I can leave for the Demons facility. Or should I say I’m fixin’ to head on out to sound more Texan?

  I laugh and type back:

  Smartass. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I know you need to eat clean so I’ll take macaroni and cheese off the menu.

  Nate instantly responds:

  Perfect. I’ll call you later. Good luck with your hibiscus crystals.

  He remembered, I think with a sense of amazement. Nate remembered that little detail from our conversation last night.

  I hold my phone to my chest, over my heart, which is pounding again. I recall how Nate asked me a ton of questions about how I ran Confection Consultations, promoted it, built a client base, etc. He was genuinely interested in my career and how I pursued it, and Nate said he loved the fact that I was an entrepreneur. He likes my independence, I think happily. That I have something I’m passionate about, like he is about hockey.

  Then I put down my phone, swing my legs over my bed, and wonder how on earth I’m going to get all my ratios for chocolate making right when all I can think about is a certain Minnesota hockey player with the soulful espresso-colored eyes.

  For once, chocolate isn’t my only focus.

  And I couldn’t be happier about it.

  “I’ll have the vegetable panini,” I say to the server, handing him my menu.

  I’m at The Mermaid Bar inside Neiman Marcus. It’s where I meet my mom and Amanda for our standing lunch date once a month, but today my mind is elsewhere.

  Namely, with a handsome hockey player who is finishing up a workout at the Dallas Demons training facility about now.

  “Very good,” the server says, disappearing to put in our orders.

  “So how are you, Kenley? I didn’t hear from you last night,” my mom says pointedly as she gazes at me from across the table.

  Shit. Normally I call my mom every Sunday to recap the week, but I totally forgot since I was with Nate.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry,” I say honestly. “I was out last night and didn’t get home until late.”

  Amanda grins at me. “Really? Any details you want to share, little sis?”

  I feel my face grow warm. Amanda knew I was seeing Nate last night, and this is her way of teasing me about it.

  “You’re never out on Sunday night,” my mom declares. “What were you doing? Something with Lexi?”

  I hesitate for a moment. Do I say anything about Nate? I’m dying to talk about him, but we’re taking it very slow. What if I say something, and Nate falls off the face of the earth by the end of the week? Then I’d have to explain that, and it would feel like pouring salt into a wound.

  Nate’s not going to disappear, my heart immediately responds.

  Damn it, I can’t think this way. One day is one day.

  But I feel so happy, so alive, and I want to share that with people I love. So my heart overrules my head once again.

  “Okay,” I say slowly, “Mom, I met someone.”

  My mother nearly chokes on her glass of chardonnay in shock.

  “CiCi, are you okay?” Claire asks, getting up from her chair and patting my mom on the back in concern.

  I grin at Amanda, who winks at me. CiCi is my mom’s name instead of Grandma for Claire and Bella. Her name is Cecily, and she thinks she’s too young to be called Grandma. Which she’s not, but Amanda rolled with it.

  Actually I find life in general is a lot easier if you roll with CiCi.

  “Oh, yes, sweetheart, CiCi is fine,” Mom says, blotting her Chanel nude lips with a napkin. “Just . . . surprised.”

  She pulls Claire into her lap and strokes her hair as she stares at me, a shocked expression etched on her face. “So what happened to your man sabbatical?”

  I know I’m grinning like an idiot.

  “It ended when I met a guy named Nate.”

  “From Win a Date with Nate!” Claire provides helpfully.

  “What, you had to win a date?” my mom asks in horror.

  “No, no,” I laugh, shaking my head. I pause to take a sip of my spiced iced tea. “I met him at the Dallas Details photo shoot. Mom, I had a date with Nate Johansson. He plays for the Dallas Demons.”

  Mom stares at me blankly.

  “The hockey team,” Amanda fills in.

  “He’s a professional hockey player,” I add.

  “Oh, Kenley, no,” Mom says, shaking her head. “For the love of God, don’t break your man sabbatical for a professional athlete.”

  I go into defensive mode. “Mom, Nate isn’t like that.”

  Mom’s perfectly arched eyebrows shoot straight up. “Of course not. He’s the one exception to the cheating womanizers they all are, right?”

  “Mom, stop it,” Amanda says, opening her portable container of Cheerios and doling some out for Bella, who is sitting next to her in a high chair. “You don’t know Nate.”

  “Nate wouldn’t do that,” I say firmly, thinking of what happened with Megan and Patrick. If there’s one thing Nate
would never do, it would be to cheat. He was nearly destroyed by what Megan did, and I know he would never inflict that pain on another person.

  “Please,” Mom says, rolling her eyes. Then she leans across the table and puts her hand over mine. “Kenley, listen to me. Powerful men with money cheat. Men who travel a lot have ample opportunity to cheat. Men with big egos cheat. This hockey player has all of these qualities.”

  Anger flickers through me. I remove my hand and stare my mother dead in the eyes.

  “Trust me, Nate would never cheat on me,” I say, my voice very firm.

  Mom reaches over the back of her chair and fishes out her cell from her bag.

  “Of course this Nate wouldn’t,” my mother says, swiping some things on her phone.

  “Mom, would you stop it?” Amanda asks. “He seems nice.”

  Mom jerks her head up. “You’ve met him?”

  Oh, crap. Mom hates feeling like we aren’t sharing everything with her, and now we’ve given her a big-ticket item on her woe-is-me list.

  “Only briefly. Before they had a date. I talked to him for, oh, two minutes,” Amanda says quickly.

  Mom goes back to her phone. “I see. So that was enough time for you to determine he was a trustworthy man?”

  “Mom, please, trust me,” I plead. “I wouldn’t go out with Nate if I didn’t think he was worth taking a chance on.”

  Mom ignores me as she starts keying something. I glance at Amanda, who rolls her eyes.

  “CiCi, can I watch My Little Pony on your phone?” Claire asks.

  “In a minute, darling,” Mom says sweetly. Then her face changes. “Ah-ha! When I typed in ‘Hockey players cheating on wives and girlfriends’ 283,000 results popped up. 283,000, Kenley.”

  She shoves her evidence across the table at me, and my stomach clenches in anger.

  “I’m not reading that,” I snap. “It’s insulting to Nate. Not all hockey players are of that same womanizing mold.”

  “This is so ridiculous,” Amanda adds. She picks up her phone and begins typing. “And just so you know, Mom, I found 9,930,000 results for Bigfoot. So does that make him real?”

  “Amanda, honestly,” Mom says, taking a sip of her wine and ignoring Amanda’s point, “that’s silly. No comparison.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Google doesn’t know Nate, Mom. Right now, we’re getting to know each other. We’re taking it slow. Very slow.”

  “So he can keep his options open?” Mom asks directly.

  I swallow hard. I know that’s a possibility. My brain knows that Nate is getting back into the real world after his was destroyed. My brain knows there is a chance Nate will see me for a little while and then move on to the next woman he wants to date. After all, not only is he coming back from what happened with Megan, but he’s new to Dallas. He’s going to be meeting a lot of people once the season starts.

  Which means meeting beautiful women.

  Experienced women.

  The kind any man would want to bed.

  My stomach ties into a knot at the thought, as my brain knows this is a very real possibility.

  But my heart tells me that’s impossible.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to upset you,” Mom says. I look up and see the sincerity shining in her blue eyes. “But after Chase deceived you, after I saw how you believed every line he said, I don’t want to see you make the same mistake.”

  I bite down on my lip as my heart lurches in my chest. No. No, this is different. Nate says amazing things to me, but I know he means them. I know he does.

  “Mom, don’t project what happened with you and Dad on to Kenley,” Amanda warns. “That’s not fair.”

  “How can I? Your father became a lying cheat when he had a mid-life crisis,” Mom says easily. “Nate might not cheat, but he might not ever commit, either.”

  The server comes to our table with our lunch, but I have no appetite. Amanda changes the subject, and Mom is busy helping Claire with her grilled cheese, and I sit still, staring at my plate, fighting the queasy feeling attacking my stomach.

  The joy I had from this morning has been replaced by doubt. I was fooled once by attention and words, and I know it could happen again.

  But as much as my head is telling me to be careful with Nate, my heart is pushing back.

  My heart is telling me the man I kissed last night and shared my dreams with is real. And while he hasn’t voiced his intentions, he wouldn’t be with me if he didn’t see some potential for us.

  My phone buzzes inside my purse, breaking my thoughts.

  “Excuse me,” I say, fishing it out of my chevron tote bag. I pick up my cell and see I have a text from Nate.

  One training session down. One to go. Then I get to see my Bae. Definitely the highlight of my day. PS clean eating means no chocolate with curry.

  And as I read his sweet words, my heart is back in control of the situation. I don’t need to read about what other players might be doing with their personal relationships.

  I don’t care.

  Because the only hockey player I care about calls me Bae.

  And I’m seeing him tonight.

  Chapter 14

  Offensive Hockey Strategy: In basic terms, you want to advance the puck into the offensive zone and score a goal — Nate

  “I can’t let you do all of this,” Nate says, standing next to me in my kitchen. “If I’m eating, I’m helping. So tell me what to do.”

  I can’t help but smile. Nate’s come over for dinner, and I’m attempting to make the perfect meal for him. Which means I have printouts of Paleo recipes on my countertop, as Nate told me that’s how he eats most of the time. All the special ingredients I bought at Whole Foods this afternoon for tonight are sitting out, too.

  “What’s all this, anyway?” he asks, wrinkling his brow as he peers over my shoulder.

  Damn, it’s very hard to concentrate on his questions when he moves his powerful arm forward to pick up my printouts. I notice how his forearm is sculpted and muscular, and I wish he’d slide that muscular arm around me right now . . .

  “Honey-glazed salmon,” Nate reads.

  “It’s Paleo,” I say excitedly, turning around to face him. “I researched a whole menu that meets your needs. I also downloaded a few Paleo cookbooks to my iPad, too, so I know how to cook for you.”

  “You downloaded cookbooks for me?” Nate asks, his voice reflecting surprise.

  Panic seizes me. Oh, shit. Shit. I shouldn’t have told him that. Nate wants to take baby steps. And here I am, telling him I’m buying cookbooks based on what he eats.

  “Uh,” I say, trying to figure out how to spin this, “I—”

  Suddenly Nate’s hand is cradling the back of my head. “You make me want to run, you know that, right?”

  He bends down and gently brushes his lips against mine. My pulse burns the second his lips meet mine, but his words confuse me. Run? Like run away from me? My stomach tightens for a second at the thought.

  But his actions don’t match his words.

  “You make me want to go on offense,” Nate whispers sexily against my lips. Then he eases my mouth open, kissing me slowly, exploring my mouth with his. “You make me,” he murmurs between kisses, “want to advance further. But not,” Nate says, kissing me again, “the way you think.”

  Nate breaks the kiss and draws me to him, and I’m deliciously enveloped in those amazing muscular arms of his.

  “You make me want to run instead of walk,” he says softly, gazing down at me. “I want to run to you, Bae.”

  I beam in happiness. Okay, now that I get what he means, I allow myself to feel joy from his words.

  “Just for getting cookbooks?” I tease, smiling at him.

  “But that means
something to me,” Nate says seriously, reaching up and caressing the side of my face in his hand. “The fact that you listened to what I said and took it to heart, that you went out of your way to do all of this . . . I value that.”

  I search his eyes. I can see he’s truly touched by my gesture. And while it might scare some guys, that I went to all this effort for only our third date, Nate not only appreciates it, but embraces it.

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” I say, sliding my arms around his waist.

  “I do,” he says, bending down and kissing me again.

  I lose myself in his arms, kissing him, feeling his strong body with my hands, inhaling his sexy, masculine cologne. I would be content to stay like this the rest of the night if Nate would agree to it.

  “Mmmm,” Nate murmurs. “I like this.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper back against his full lips, “but we should eat.”

  Nate laughs, and I do, too.

  “So what am I doing?” Nate asks.

  “Nate, you’re my guest. You aren’t doing anything.”

  “Put my skills to use. I learned how to cook in Black Bears development camp, you know.”

  “Really?” I ask, surprised by that. I move to the refrigerator in my tiny galley kitchen and take out the things I need to cook dinner tonight.

  Nate leans up against the counter. “Yeah. I mean, you’re young when you first come up. They taught us how to shop at the grocery store—around the perimeter—and how to cook healthy, stuff like that.”