by Jen Gilroy
“Thanks.” Her voice was stilted in her ears, and she raised a gloved hand to her mouth.
“Minnie’s also kind.” His voice got low. “She’s loyal and always sees the good in others, no matter what.”
“I…” Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say.
“It’s true. Even when kids used to push you into snowbanks and take your books, you didn’t let it get you down for long. You said they must have problems nobody knew about. That stuck with me. You might have been small, but you sure were mighty. You still are.”
The respect in Luc’s voice humbled her, even as his words settled deep in her soul. “I… you…” Her skates slid out from under her, and she toppled onto the ice to land on her butt. “Oh.” The breath whooshed from her lungs.
“Are you okay?” Luc was on his knees beside her in an instant. His eyebrows and lashes were tipped white with frost, and the world telescoped to the size of a miniature portrait.
“I’m fine.” The padding in the ski pants they’d rented along with the skates had cushioned her fall, so it was her dignity that was hurt more than anything.
“Maybe we need to practice that falling technique again.” Luc’s mouth moved, and Cat followed the pattern of his firm lips, mesmerized. “Let yourself fall forward, remember?” He pulled her to her knees to face him. “Up you go.”
“Okay, I…” She slipped and pitched toward him.
He caught her before she hit the ice again, and his strong arms held her tight. “That’s the way to fall.” His breath made a cloud in the cold air, and Cat’s body shook, more with the shock of his closeness than the near fall.
“Is it?” She leaned into him, hyper aware of his touch.
A truck rumbled by on the road behind the inn and faded. In the silence, her heart hammered in her ears.
“Textbook.” He lifted her off her skates and up his body, then pressed his mouth against her jaw. His lips were warm against her cold skin, and she gulped. He moved his head back a fraction of an inch and there was a question in his eyes. “Are you sure? I…” His voice was raw.
“Yes.” She angled her face back toward his.
Luc’s lips traced the outline of hers, gentle at first and then harder to coax her mouth open.
She went limp in his arms and a sharp stab of desire shot through her. She hadn’t been kissed or held by a man in almost thirteen years. After Amy’s dad, she’d been so afraid to trust anyone that she’d steered clear of men until it had become a habit, instead of a choice. And apart from Amy’s dad, she wasn’t one for a spur-of-the-moment hookup, so on those rare occasions she’d considered getting close to a guy, she’d always stopped herself. Amy came first, and she didn’t have time for a relationship.
She moaned and kissed Luc back. Later, she’d analyze why this wasn’t a good idea and berate herself for her lack of willpower. Not now. Even though she way out of her comfort zone, and he was way out of her league, she’d wanted to kiss Luc for years. And now he wanted to kiss her back.
Cat wriggled out of her gloves and lifted a hand to his face, where beard stubble scraped her palm. She brushed his bare skin with her fingers and twisted even closer.
“Catherine.” His voice rasped her name in the lilting French way, and she moaned again. Whenever anyone else called her by her full name, it sounded prim and proper. The way Luc said it was sexy, as if she was a whole different woman; one who was daring and maybe even a bit coy.
She glimpsed his eyes, so dark blue they were almost black, before he lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing and held her even closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he groaned. Then his mouth captured hers again, warm, insistent, and everything she’d ever dreamed a kiss from him would be.
He tugged at her hat and pulled it off. Then his gloves were off too, and his fingers tunneled through and beneath her hair to slide along her neck and collarbone, his touch both gentle and insistent.
Cat arched against him as her tongue danced with his. She tasted coffee, winter, and him, and it was so good she couldn’t help it. She moaned again and he did too, guttural and aroused.
It was a sound that touched every part of who she was and changed her. In all those years of raising Amy, she’d experienced life secondhand, safe behind the barriers she’d painstakingly constructed. But this was raw and so honest that if she wasn’t careful, it could end in heartbreak. One kiss from Luc was all it took to tear down her defenses and peel away the careful layers she’d constructed around her heart to leave her way too vulnerable.
Then Luc yanked his mouth away, and her body cooled as if the ice beneath her feet had fissured to plunge her into the frigid water below.
“I don’t know what came over me.” He set her back on her skates and took a step back. “Coaching… Amy… I…” He scrubbed a hand across his face.
“Yes… Amy.” Cat fumbled for her gloves and hat. “I don’t know what came over me, either.”
Except, she did, and she was even more like Minnie Mouse than Luc thought. Although she’d denied it for years, like Minnie, she was a hopeless romantic. It was in all those historical romances on her e-reader. It was why Kate and Leopold was one of her all-time favorite movies. Even her favorite color, pink, was the color of romance and unconditional love.
But being a romantic had led her to make bad choices. She yanked on her gloves and then jammed the hat back on her head. Luc wasn’t her Mickey. He wasn’t a real-life version of one of those book boyfriends she’d let herself dream about. Real life couldn’t live up to fiction, and Luc definitely wasn’t a hero for her starry-eyed happily ever after. No matter how much she wanted him to be.
Chapter Eight
Sunday dinners had gone out of fashion in lots of places, but not in Firefly Lake. Luc sat near the middle of the long table in the big dining room at Harbor House, surrounded by Gabrielle and her immediate and extended family. A fire crackled in the fireplace and a tall grandfather clock chimed each quarter hour.
His gaze landed on Cat, who sat across from him, her head down and intent on her turkey stew. The light from the chandelier reflected off the silky blond hair that brushed the delicate curve of her cheek. Although she’d avoided him all week, he still remembered, with perfect clarity, how that hair had slipped between his fingers and the softness of the skin of her face under the pads of his thumbs.
Given that his heart was supposed to be buried with Maggie, it was bad enough he’d kissed a woman who wasn’t his wife. But he’d kissed Cat, who wasn’t only Nick’s little sister, so almost like family, but the mother of a child he was coaching. Although the coaching handbook didn’t specify that relationships between coaches and parents were against the rules, once he was back on his feet, a straight-laced guy like Coach MacPherson would have plenty to say about Luc getting cozy with the parent of a kid on his team—not least because some folks already thought Amy was getting special treatment.
Then there was Gabrielle. For an instant, the dining room spun. Not only was Luc living in her house, but Gabrielle was one of his mom’s best friends, and Cat was her daughter. You didn’t mess with your mom’s friend’s daughter unless you were serious. Although he couldn’t be serious about Cat, that kiss had been serious all right. And despite his better judgment, he wanted to kiss her again, preferably without a whole lot of clothes between them. He scooped up a spoonful of fragrant stew and suppressed a groan.
“Are you feeling okay, buddy?” On Cat’s right, Nick dragged his attention away from Mia long enough to eye Luc with curiosity. “There’s a bad flu going around. Half of Mia’s fifth grade class was out on Friday, weren’t they, angel?” He turned back to his wife with a besotted expression.
“They sure were.” Mia gave Nick a smile filled with so much love and happiness that Luc’s stomach coiled. “We’re lucky none of the girls have gotten it so far. It comes on all of a sudden. You can be fine one minute, then sick as sick the next.”
Kind of like how h
e’d kissed Cat. One instant he’d been picking her up off the ice like he’d have done with anybody, and then the next he’d had his mouth fused to hers like a man possessed. “I’m fine.” At least he was fine as far as the flu went.
“As well as those women’s hockey demos you’re organizing for the winter carnival, I hear you’re starting up a girls’ hockey program.” Beyond Nick and Mia, Charlie zeroed in on Luc. “That’s so fabulous.” Her brown eyes twinkled as she smiled at Sean, the two of them, with baby Lexie banging a spoon on her highchair tray between them, another picture of marital bliss. “We’ll sign Lexie up as soon as she’s old enough. It’s not fair her big brother can play hockey and she can’t.”
“I didn’t say I was starting a program for girls.” While he’d been away from Firefly Lake, Luc had forgotten one very important aspect of small-town life. News took on a life of its own. While something—like a girls’ hockey program—might start out as a vague, half-formed idea, in the blink of an eye, it morphed into accepted fact. “I’ve arranged for a few women players I know to come here and give demos at the carnival. It’s a big step between that and a girls’ hockey team.”
“Not really.” At the far end of the table by Gabrielle and Ward, Amy’s expression was earnest and way too trusting. “I talked to a few girls at school. They said if you’re coaching, they’d give hockey a try. They don’t want to play with boys, but if there was a girls’ team, it would be different. Besides, it’s not just any women players. The ones who are coming here played in the Olympics.”
“See?” Charlie grinned at him, and Lexie dropped her spoon on the floor with a clatter. “All the girls around here need is a chance and some positive female role models.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Cat finally raised her head from her plate. “Since I worry about Amy getting hurt when she’s playing with boys, if you take the lead on a team for girls, it would be a step in the right direction.”
“Exactly.” Mia beamed and squeezed Nick’s arm. “We’ll sign up our girls. Maybe not so much Naomi, but I bet Kylie and Emma would really take to it.” She glanced down the table and sixteen-year-old Naomi, thirteen-year-old Kylie, and nine-year-old Emma looked back at her with matching expressions of horror.
“It’s wonderful.” Gabrielle chimed in. “There aren’t a lot of sports programs for girls in Firefly Lake, and by starting one, you’d be doing a real community service. It’s a shame Georgia had to work tonight, but if she were here, I’m sure she’d agree. She was such a sporty girl, but there weren’t many opportunities for girls like her when she was growing up.” She turned to her granddaughter. “Think of Amy. It would mean the world to her to have other girls here to share her sport with. She’d make new friends.”
Luc let out a breath. Amy needed friends, but a girls’ hockey program was a huge commitment. “It would take time to build a girls’ program. It’s already the end of January. Even if we decided to go ahead, apart from a few trial sessions, nothing much could happen until next fall.” Luc looked at Nick, Sean, Ward, and Sean’s teenage son, Ty. Surely the male contingent at the table would back him up? “It would also take money. Maybe we could get volunteer coaches, but there would still be money for the ice time and basic equipment. If the girls played in tournaments, those would cost, too.”
“I’m sure the Rotary Club would help, but tournaments wouldn’t be this year, maybe not even next.” Sean made a funny face at Lexie, who giggled. “I’ll coach for nothing, and Ty will too, won’t you, son?”
“Sure thing. I’m already refereeing, and I’d like to earn a coaching certification.” Seventeen-year-old Ty smiled at Naomi, as if to remind Luc he was the only guy at the table who wasn’t coupled up.
“You can count on me, too,” Nick said. “I want to set a good example for our girls. In Amy’s case, you coaching her is about potential, but all girls should have a chance to try hockey. Who knows, maybe there are more girls out there like her.”
Luc swallowed a laugh. Nick had only been an official stepdad to Mia’s daughters for a few weeks and a foster dad to Kylie a bit longer, but he’d taken to the role like he’d done it since all three girls were born. As for there being any other girls like Amy in Firefly Lake, Luc doubted it. The more he worked with her, the more he was convinced she had a rare talent.
“I never played hockey, but I can help with fundraising.” Ward looped an arm around Gabrielle’s shoulders. “I could even make a short film about it, a fly-on-the-wall documentary. I bet Vermont Public Radio would be interested. What do you think, Charlie?”
“Leave it with me.” Always the journalist, Charlie pulled out her phone and tapped at it.
So much for the supposed solidarity of testosterone. Even before Maggie, Luc had supported women’s hockey. Coaching Amy was a way of giving back, as much for Maggie as himself. But he’d come home to Firefly Lake for a quiet life. There might not be lots of excitement or any great joys for him here, but there wouldn’t be any complications, either.
When Coach MacPherson had asked him to help out with the minor hockey program last summer, Luc hadn’t thought twice before signing on. The team was established, so all he’d have to do was turn up and coach a bit. If there were pushy parents or any other issues, MacPherson dealt with them. But then Coach Mac had gotten hurt, Cat and Amy had turned up, and all of Luc’s complications had started. And by innocently volunteering to help the winter carnival, he’d been roped into starting a girls’ hockey team where there’d never been one before, and where folks were already riled about the one girl he was coaching. It sure wouldn’t be quiet, and it had a whole lot more complications waiting to happen.
He eyeballed Cat. “You realize, don’t you, that even if we start a girls’ team here, Amy’s too advanced to play on it? She needs to play with girls who’ll challenge her.”
“Of course she can’t play with girls who have no hockey experience.” Cat eyeballed him right back. “But at least she wouldn’t be the only girl in fifty miles who plays hockey, and maybe she could help you out with coaching. Teaching others to do something you’re good at is an important part of skill development. You remember how I tutored you? You passed chemistry, and I learned something about teaching while I was still in high school. It was a win-win situation.”
“I agree, but…” Luc gritted his teeth. Cat had gotten it in one. Helping coach other girls would give Amy confidence. From what he’d seen so far, confidence and self-belief were the only areas where she was weak. As her coach, and despite his entirely unprofessional attraction to her mother, it was his duty to help Amy in any way he could.
Cat’s mouth turned up into a teasing smile. The same mouth that had been warm and oh-so-inviting as it had opened under his. “Even though it’s not the case now, Firefly Lake has a rich history of women’s winter sports. The archive over at the inn has some great photos.”
“That’s terrific.” Luc stopped and shifted in his chair.
The woman was killing him. Even though there was nothing remotely sexy about the words coming out of her mouth, it was her mouth. His nerve endings tingled, and he tried and failed to tamp down the unexpected rush of desire. The same desire that meant he’d scooped her into his arms out on the lake to fit her body against his. Then her legs had gone around his waist and he’d been lost, the rush of sensual feeling overruling his usual good sense.
Cat’s smile turned smug. “There were even some women hockey players here. A group of mill workers from Firefly Lake played against another women’s team from Quebec in the nineteen thirties.”
“I bet most people don’t know anything about that. I sure didn’t.” Luc swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth. Hockey. He had to focus on hockey and the carnival, not on her rosy lips or the kissable dent at the base of her throat. “Why don’t you use those pictures to make a storyboard display for the carnival? We could put it up in the arena lobby. It would be great PR, don’t you think?”
The change of topic didn’t help. Maybe
it had even made things worse because now everyone around the table, even baby Lexie, stared at him and Cat. And Gabrielle’s eyes had a shrewd gleam before she flicked a glance at Nick.
“I guess I could pull something together.” Cat gave him a too-bland smile before she crumbled the bread roll on her side plate.
“Why don’t I drop by the inn and check out those photos with you?” He gave her an even blander smile in return. “Since everyone’s so keen to start a girls’ team, I should find out about the women who came before. They’re the pioneers for girls today. Girls like Amy.” He sat back, and his body flooded with a warmth that came from her, not the fire in the grate. Two could play a game of verbal banter, but, all of a sudden, and despite everyone watching, that banter had turned into something else— something that felt a whole lot like foreplay.
“Well, well.” Nick glanced between them and, although his voice held a laugh, it also held more than a hint of warning.
Luc’s desire faded along with the banter. “If folks want me to coach hockey, I’ll coach hockey. Girls, boys, senior citizens, anybody.” Okay, that was a lie. His ears got as hot as if his mom had been there to call him on it. Coaching a group of almost-adolescent boys and Amy was a big enough challenge. He was coping, barely, and only thanks to a lot of help from Scott. How would he manage a bunch of girls?
“You’re messing with me,” Cat said. Her sweet blue eyes narrowed behind those glasses that made her sexier than any woman he’d met before or after Maggie. But she was also smart and she had his number, so she was messing with him, too.
Luc twirled his spoon in the dregs of the food that congealed on his plate. Messing with his body he could handle, and maybe even messing with his brain. But it was the messing with his heart and soul that he couldn’t risk, not now and not ever. He had to ignore that sizzling kiss between them and move on. It was a momentary lapse in judgment on both their parts that meant nothing.