by Jen Gilroy
“She’s right.” Luc hesitated. Anything he said would either give Amy false hope or hurt her, and he couldn’t hurt this sweet girl. “Go on. Kylie’s waiting for you.”
“Okay, but if you want to know anything more about my mom, just ask me. She’s kind of serious, but she can be really funny. And even though she doesn’t think so, Mom looks great in a bikini.”
“Amy…” By the time Luc got his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth, she’d darted away.
It was February in Vermont. It wasn’t like he’d have the opportunity to see Cat in a bikini anytime soon, so he shouldn’t even think about it. Except, he was thinking about it and, although he couldn’t give Cat the kind of commitment she needed, it was getting harder and harder to deny what he wanted.
If the way she kissed him by the beaver pond was any indication, Cat wanted it, too.
Chapter Twelve
Cat slipped into her winter coat as Luc held it out for her. Despite the intimacy of the Pink Pagoda, where red paper lanterns had cast a rosy glow over their table for two, this dinner hadn’t been a date.
“See you again soon.” Katie Wong, one half of the husband-and-wife team who’d owned the restaurant as long as Cat remembered, held out the brown paper bag with their leftovers and gave her a knowing smile. “It was busy tonight because of the carnival, but next time I’ll make sure you have a quieter table.” She glanced at Luc. “More romantic.”
“Our table was fine.” Cat took the bag, then fumbled in her coat pocket for her mittens. Despite her newfound determination to truly live her life, she couldn’t expect romance with Luc. Romance was about love, and that was for books and movies, not real life.
“Great food, too.” Luc’s voice was warm. “That’s the best meal I’ve eaten outside of Chinatown in San Francisco.”
“Thank you.” Katie bobbed her head. “A picture for our wall?” She gestured to the framed photos that hung along the entryway wall above a tank, where several enormous goldfish swam in lazy circles.
“Sure.” Luc moved closer to Cat.
“I don’t…” Cat stopped because Katie had already whipped out her phone and was clicking away.
“Luc is very good for business.” Katie bobbed her head again. “He will bring us great fortune. Smile, Cat. You look nervous.”
Luc squeezed her shoulders through her coat. “Sorry,” he whispered into her ear.
Cat gritted her teeth and smiled through tight lips. There was no reason for her to be nervous. She didn’t like having her picture taken, that was all. It had nothing to do with the easy familiarity of the dinner she and Luc had shared, lingering until the restaurant was empty. Or the sensual spark in his blue eyes that had made her heart hammer, and that had meant she’d been so caught up with him she’d barely registered any of the other diners.
“Much better.” Katie put her phone away and patted Cat’s arm. “You need to smile more. It’s not good to be so serious. Besides, smiling makes good wrinkles.” She held open the street door and cold air rushed in, together with a shower of snow. “Walk her home fast, Luc. It’s stormy tonight.” Her dark eyes twinkled before she closed the door behind them.
Cat shivered as snow pellets stung her face. “You don’t have to walk me home.” She swayed in the icy wind that buffeted them. “My apartment’s only a few blocks away.”
“Of course I’m walking you home.” Luc gripped her arm and steered her across Main Street, breaking a path with each effortless stride. “I’d drive you if I had my truck and you hadn’t insisted we walk here from the park. The truck will be buried in snow by now.”
“It wasn’t snowing earlier.”
But while they’d been in the restaurant, pillow-like clouds had blotted out the stars. The wind had risen to make a high, keening sound, and snow had drifted across the street like a thick blanket of marshmallow fluff.
“That’s a Vermont winter for you. My dad jokes he’s put more miles on his snow blower than his car.” Out of the darkness and swirling snow, the streetlights along Main cast a pale glow. “There won’t be any fireworks in this weather.”
“Amy will be disappointed.” Cat panted to keep up with him. Snowflakes kissed her nose and tongue before eddying around her legs.
Luc glanced at her, then slowed his steps as they passed Nick’s darkened law office and the Cozy Corner Craft Shoppe. “I’m sorry about Katie. People taking my picture came along with playing in the NHL, but it made you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay.” Cat’s boots slid in the new-fallen snow. “I bet she’ll edit me out. You’re the star.”
“I never wanted to be.” Luc’s voice was serious. “From the time I was in first grade, I wanted to play pro hockey, but when I did, I had to become this whole other person off the ice. I’m not comfortable with people taking my picture, either, but it was part of the job, so I had to learn to live with it.” He stopped at the corner of the cross street before the gallery.
“Is that why you came back to Firefly Lake? Because most people here treat you like a normal person?” Until now, Cat hadn’t suspected that Luc was such a private guy, maybe even as private as her.
“Apart from helping my family with the creamery, yes. Having a normal life is something you can’t put a price on. I’ll even put up with this weather.” A smile creased his cheeks and with his eyebrows and lashes etched white, he was a sexy and way-too-appealing Jack Frost.
Cat stepped off the curb and sank into deeper snow, over the tops of her boots. “Doesn’t the town still plow?”
His chuckle wrapped around her like a warm hug. “It’s late. We closed the Pink Pagoda. The town won’t plow again until morning.”
Cat stumbled sideways. “Why did I ever leave Boston?”
“They get snow there.” Luc laughed harder, then he lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way across the street.
“Of course they do, but what… no… put me down.” Cat wriggled, but he held her tight.
“And have you disappear into a snowbank?” He stepped onto the sidewalk in one smooth motion and continued toward the gallery.
“The snow isn’t that deep. I can walk.” Cat hung onto Luc’s broad shoulders.
“With wet snow in your boots?”
“Not a lot.” She wiggled her toes. Which was a mistake because one of her boots slipped off, and her bubblegum-pink Minnie Mouse sock ended up almost level with his nose.
Barely breaking his stride, Luc bent to pick up her boot. “You have a pair of those socks for each day of the week?”
“No. Amy only had three pairs.” Cat squeaked as Luc swung her over his shoulder.
“Keys, Minnie?”
“In my left coat pocket… oh…” She squeaked again as he rummaged in her pocket. The security light went on, and he started up the outside stairs beside the gallery.
“You can put me down now.” She pushed at his rock-hard chest through his parka.
“Your feet are wet.” His voice went tight.
“Your hair is, too.” Beneath his woolly hat, strands of golden brown hair were damp against her cheek. “Come in and I’ll get you a towel to dry off. You should warm up before walking back to my mom’s. I can make hot cocoa and…”
She stopped as they reached the top of the stairs. Luc slid her down on the small landing, the movement slow and arousing.
“I’m already warm, and if I come into your apartment, it won’t be for cocoa.” His voice roughened, and he kept her clasped tight against his body.
She looked at him and blinked, winded by the naked want in his eyes. She respected that he wanted to give her a choice, but they’d led up to this moment for weeks. It wouldn’t be a vacation fling like she’d had with Amy’s dad, a guy she barely knew. This was Luc. He couldn’t give her forever, and she was okay with that. She also didn’t have a head full of romantic dreams or unrealistic hopes. “I want this, you.”
He covered her hand with his and they unlocked the apartment door together.
When the door swung open, Bingley and Darcy wound themselves around their ankles with loud meows.
She didn’t need forever, but she needed what Luc could give her. Comfort, however brief, and a sense of the woman she’d never had a chance to be because she’d had Amy so young and supporting her daughter had been her only focus outside school. A woman who wasn’t so serious and who could take a risk without it changing the rest of her life.
She moved into the apartment foyer and gestured to him to follow. “I’ll find you a towel.” She pulled off her remaining boot, the wet socks, and curled her cold toes against the hardwood floor.
His eyes flashed blue flames as his gaze connected with hers. “You’re sure?” He cleared his throat. “I think Amy’s looking for something permanent. She talked to me earlier and asked if I liked you. I do, you know that, but I can’t… do permanent anymore.” His voice was all of a sudden flat.
“I’ve never needed permanent.” She was independent and self-sufficient, skills she’d learned early on when her dad left. Cat pushed down the little flicker of something that might have been doubt. Could her life have been different? Maybe if she’d found the right man a long time ago, but she hadn’t, so she wouldn’t let herself think about it.
“Amy’s never had a dad, so she’s looking for a father figure. You’re her coach. It’s natural she’s turned to you.” Her daughter was growing up, and sharing her with someone else was a natural part of that process. “She’s never had a coach before who wasn’t the dad of one of her teammates.”
And none of those dads had been like Luc. They didn’t have his charisma or the star factor that lingered from his playing days. They also hadn’t focused on Amy like he did. As for Cat, she’d never reacted to any of them, even the divorced ones, like she did Luc.
She slipped off her coat and hung it on the stand, then took Luc’s parka and sweatshirt. “Amy can’t know about this.”
Luc’s gaze was steady. “I don’t want to hurt her. Or you.”
“You won’t.” Cat didn’t let herself get hurt, and if Luc’s only role in Amy’s life was as her coach, he couldn’t hurt Amy, either. She went into the kitchen to put the leftover food in the fridge, then padded back into the entry hall, where Luc still stood and watched her, his gaze intent and his breath rising and falling beneath a thin T-shirt. She opened the linen closet to take out a towel. “Here you go.” She held it out.
He took one end of the fabric and used it to pull her close to him again. “You do it.”
“Do what?” Her fingertips tingled where they touched his.
“Dry my hair.” With a gentle tug, he propelled her into the living room and sat in the armchair near the fireplace.
“I…” She let out a husky breath as he eased her onto his lap. “I was going to make cocoa and—”
“I’ll warm you up.” His voice got thick, and the towel dropped to the floor.
Her body flushed with heat from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she twined her fingers with his. “I haven’t done this in a really long time.” She shifted on his lap and her legs slipped apart.
“Me neither.” His fingers tightened on hers. “I was a one-woman guy.”
Cat trembled. “I thought… in high school you were popular and—”
“You thought wrong.” He pulled her into the curve of his chest, and her hip brushed his erection through his jeans. One of his hands slipped to her breast, the nipple already taut beneath her sweater and bra.
“Maybe I think too much.” She moaned as his finger traced her nipple.
His laugh was wicked as his other hand slipped beneath the hem of her sweater and traced a circular path upward. He undid her bra by its front clasp with unerring accuracy, and his warm hand covered one of her breasts.
Cat rocked into his touch. For one of the few times in her life, she couldn’t think. She could only give herself up to sensation and him.
Luc eased Cat’s sweater over her head and sucked in a harsh breath. In the muted light of the living room lamp, her skin was creamy white, tinged with pink, and, for such a tiny woman, her breasts, tipped with hard, darker buds, were lush and curvy.
“What?” Her expression was wary.
“You’re beautiful.” He slipped her bra off and touched each of her breasts in turn, his fingertips skimming across her skin to linger on her nipples.
She quivered. “I—”
He put a finger to her soft lips. Despite the raw need that thundered through him, his heart was filled with sudden tenderness. “You’re smart and beautiful.” He traced the ripe swell of her breasts again and then drew her off his lap to toss several throw cushions and a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Here.” He patted the impromptu bed.
“Not in my bedroom?” Her voice hitched.
“The fire’s all ready to light.” He pointed to the stacked wood and kindling in the grate.
“Michael says the power still goes off a lot here in winter. He told me to help myself from the woodpile out back.” Cat shot him an unexpectedly flirty grin and nibbled her plump bottom lip. Her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing.
Luc grabbed a match from the holder, lit it, and touched the flame to the kindling. Although he’d had opportunities, he hadn’t been with another woman since his wife. He slid the screen in front of the fireplace with an unsteady hand and pulled off his T-shirt. It was more than time. His body throbbed and, as he turned back to Cat, he caught his breath. Lying on a pink pillow, her blond hair tumbling around her head, she looked sexy, wild even. Not the cautious, buttoned-up woman he was used to seeing. “Where were we?”
She reached out and ran a hand along his forearm, and his skin tingled. Her eyes were dark and aroused and she gave him a slow smile. “You asked me to dry your hair.”
“Yeah, I did.” Before he’d distracted her, distracted them both to give himself a last chance to think about what he was doing and why. He grabbed the towel and passed it to her.
“Here.” She sat up, held his gaze, and opened her arms wide.
Then the towel and her hands were in his hair, her gentle touch an almost unbearable mix of sensuality and healing. As he relaxed into her embrace, the tightness in his shoulders he’d carried even before he’d gotten hurt eased. And he couldn’t help it, he moaned—loud, guttural, and turned on.
Cat stilled. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.” He clenched his hands briefly, then released them. “It’s so good you could do this massage thing professionally. Guys would line up.”
“I doubt it.” She gave a soft laugh and leaned even closer.
Then the towel dropped to the floor, and her hands were everywhere; in his hair, on his face, and clutching his back. “Don’t sell yourself short.” Luc moaned again as her fingers connected with his bare chest and teased the springy tendrils of hair.
Except, he didn’t want Cat touching any other guy but him. The thought bounced off him like a rogue slap shot. He wanted her all to himself. Her sharp mind, gorgeous body, and sweetness—everything that made her the woman she was. But he couldn’t go there, not now and not ever. This thing between them was physical and to satisfy a need they both had, nothing more.
The pebbled tips of her breasts brushed his chest and he shuddered against her. Her gaze met his in a searing moment of truth before she traced the zigzag scar tissue that ran along his right shoulder blade, her touch featherlight.
Luc quivered with pleasure. “Pro hockey’s a tough game.” He ground out the words as her tongue replaced her finger, to leave a trail of liquid fire across his bare skin.
“Too tough.” Her hands drifted lower to the buttons on his jeans.
His breath came in short, harsh bursts as she undid each button in turn, her touch delicate against his hardness. “Cat…”
“What?” Her voice was throaty and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.
“You’re killing me.” He helped her tug his jeans over his hips and down his legs and
off.
“Like you’re not…” She stopped and let out a hiss. Then her hands inched back upward to graze the curve of his bare hips. “You aren’t wearing any underwear.”
“No.” He shivered as her fingertips glided across his inner thighs.
She stared at him, and her body tensed. “You’re big.” Her face went red. “Really big.” She pulled her glasses off and buried her face in one of the cushions.
“We’ll fit together just fine.” He made his voice gentle and eased the cushion away to cup her chin in one hand. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“Will you stop if… ?” She trembled.
He moved closer and brushed kisses along her jaw. “You set the pace. If you want to stop, we stop.” Even though he was harder than he’d been since college, this was her call.
“No, I want this. I want you.” She set her glasses beside the matches, then undid her jeans and wiggled out of them until she was naked, apart from a pair of pale pink panties edged with creamy lace.
Beneath her serious demeanor, she was so feminine, much more so than he’d first expected. He fingered the edge of her underwear, and she gave a breathy sigh and rocked against his hand. “Cat…” When her hand covered his erection, his breath almost burst out of his lungs.
“You said I can set the pace.” She gave him a half smile and pressed her breasts against his chest. Her lips parted before she bent her head to suck his lower lip into her mouth.
He juddered as an electric current of sensation shot through him. “Hang on.” He eased her panties off before reaching for his wallet in his jeans. Her skin shimmered in the flickering firelight. Luc’s pulse sped up as he found the condom he carried around out of habit and handed it to her.
She tore open the package and together they rolled it on. He settled her against the cushions and sought her breasts with his mouth. The fire crackled, and the zest of the wood smoke mingled with her lighter rose fragrance. She made a sharp sound deep in her throat as he tugged at her nipple and rolled his tongue around it.