“Boy, you sure do know how to compliment a woman.”
She rolled her eyes but gave Max’s hand a little squeeze. “Fine, tease, but I don’t get out as often as you do. I can’t remember the last time I took off for a weekend without curling. I’m out of practice.”
“If it makes you feel any better, every one of your top competitors is here, too, so you aren’t exactly falling behind anyone,” Max said. They reached the pond and sat down on one of the large logs ringing the outer edge.
“Yeah, we’re all one big extended curling family. The other American team ahead of us in the standings even showed up and joined in the chicken dance, despite knowing we’re trying to take their ranking from them in a few weeks.”
“And their vice even asked you to dance. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
“She’s super straight with a husband and baby at home. She’s just a nice person.”
“She clearly feels the same about you.” Max started picking up skates to find a pair close to her size. “You all seem to like each other.”
“We do,” Callie admitted, not sharing any of the surprise she heard in Max’s voice. “Isn’t that true in other sports?”
“I think athletes have a sort of camaraderie, yes, but I don’t know. It’s hard to put my finger on it. I don’t think many star football players or basketball players would give up one of their only off weekends, and a holiday to boot, to attend the wedding of someone who wasn’t a teammate or someone they really admired, even if they had the money to throw around.”
“None of us have the money to throw around,” Callie admitted as she found a pair of figure skates only one size too big. At least she’d been able to put on some thicker socks and leggings after the ceremony. “Maybe that makes us genuinely admire each other more. We understand what everyone else is dealing with.”
“Genuinely.” Max paused from lacing up her skates and cocked her head to the side. “I think that’s it. These people are all genuine. You’re here because of something you love, and you respect each other for that. I see it in the way people look at you.”
“Me?” She laughed and stood, her legs a little wobbly until she pushed out on the ice. “I think it’s everybody.”
“To a certain extent,” Max conceded as she took her own first shaky steps. “But I also think you cultivate that around you. People are drawn to you because of the way you carry yourself and the type of energy you exude.”
“Hey, why aren’t you falling?” Callie tried to ignore the compliment and the warmth it sent spreading through her core. “You always fall on the ice back at the club.”
“Not true.” Max laughed and slid a few more feet. “First of all, I haven’t fallen at the club since you taught me about grippers, and second I am not in loafers right now. I’m on skates.”
“And you know how to skate?”
“Why do you sound disappointed?” Max laughed. “Were you hoping I’d start the New Year bruised and broken?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. That would seriously inhibit the plans I have for us later, but I’ll admit I did sort of hope you’d have to stick close enough to me that I’d have more excuses to have my hands on you.”
Max extended her hand. “You don’t need any excuses for that.”
Callie accepted, and pulled so that both of them slid toward each other until the toes of their skates nearly touched. “Good. Shall we?”
They set off at a leisurely pace, making gliding loops around the small pond. All of the kids had either gone to bed or to thaw out, and they had the surface to themselves, save for one other couple who kept their distance. Callie took the few minutes of gliding quietly to admire the moon shining brightly overhead, the soft strains of music wafting out from the tent, and the even softer skin of Max’s warm hand in her own. She couldn’t have even imagined this kind of peace months ago, and if anyone had told her she’d find it with Max after their first meeting, she might have punched them.
She laughed a little at that mental image.
“What’s funny?” Max asked. “Is it me?”
Callie turned to steal a glance at her profile in the moonlight. “You are a lot of things, and sometimes funny is among them, but I was just thinking about how different you seem now from the first time I met you.”
“Well, I am upright. That’s different.”
She smiled again. “And self-deprecating, which I prefer to stubborn and confrontational.”
“Gee, I sure made a great first impression.”
“It wasn’t all bad. Like you said before, you got back up every time you fell. A lot of people wouldn’t have finished that first game, much less stuck around. Why did you?”
“You want the honest answer?” Max asked.
“Always.”
“I didn’t want to. After our first meeting, I thought about bolting. I was hurt and scared and lost in more ways than one. Then, after I wrote that awful piece and you confronted me in the parking lot, I was actually pretty terrified of you.”
“Of me?”
“Yeah. You’re kind of intimidating.”
“I am not.”
“You totally are.” Max laughed. “You’re commanding. When you walk into a room, heads turn, and not just because you’re beautiful.”
“Now you’re laying it on thick.”
Max pulled her to a stop with a little tug on her arm that spun her around enough that they were facing each other once more. “Don’t do that, Callie.”
“Do what?”
“Shy away from the truth.” Max lifted one hand to cup her face softly.
She leaned into the gentle caress.
“You’re stunning and the camera loves you, but it’s more than that. You embody everything good about the game of curling. You’re compelling without being overpowering. You’re competent and strong while still being approachable. You’re fierce, competitive, hungry, and yet also genuinely friendly, self-effacing and fun. You’re unexpected, inspiring, and strangely hypnotizing.” Max leaned close. “You are fire and ice, all wrapped up in one. You shouldn’t make sense, but you do.”
Callie kissed her. What else could she do with all the emotions exploding through her? It felt as though Max had melted her heart, melted her core. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted the very ice beneath them, but she did know she’d never have Max’s way with words. Maybe words didn’t even exist to convey all the things she wanted her to know, but she would do everything she could to make Max feel what she felt.
Somewhere behind them music played and the bonfire burned, but it was Callie’s kiss that warmed Max to her toes, and the sound of her own beating heart that offered the sweetest music to her ears.
Callie enveloped her senses. Her lips were like everything else about her, so full of the most wonderful contradictions. Firm and yielding, insistent and patient, sweet and salty.
“You are so very good at that,” she mumbled when Callie pulled back.
Callie’s smile was luminous as they began to skate slowly again. “You’re no slouch yourself. If it weren’t one of my best friend’s weddings and New Year’s Eve, I would’ve snatched you away from your fan club in there much earlier and dragged you straight to bed instead of onto the ice.”
“Both valid options any night of the year if you ask me.” Max tried to brush off the compliments in Callie’s comment, but she couldn’t hide from herself how good this weekend had been for her continued self-esteem bump. Despite significant fears fueled by her recent encounter with Ella, she’d felt completely welcomed at all the wedding festivities. At first, she’d written off Ella’s turnaround as stemming from everyone’s vast adoration of Callie, and perhaps their resounding affection for her had been the reason most people had been willing to accept her presence. But, once inside this circle, Max had made the most of the opportunity. She’d played and laughed and told stories and danced and felt more like herself than she had in nearly a year.
“Thank yo
u,” she said aloud.
“For what?”
“For inviting me. For having faith in me. For taking the time to listen to my story.” She paused. Swallowed. “For kissing me in front of your team.”
Callie sighed. “That was spontaneous, but I don’t regret it.”
“You sound surprised by that.”
“I am.” Callie laughed. “For reasons that have nothing to do with who you are or what you’ve done.”
“Thanks?”
“You know what I mean. The kissing was totally about who you are, and how fond I am of you, but the fact that I’m surprised I kissed you in front of my team is another story.”
“When was the last time you did that?”
“Oh, way back in never.” Callie shook her head. “Layla has met people I’ve gone out with, of course, but Brooke and Ella and I have been playing together for five years, and I’ve never even introduced them to my dates, much less shown affection in front of them.”
“Why?” Max asked, genuinely curious as to what about her would make a woman of Callie’s caliber break her clearly well-established patterns.
“A lot of reasons. I don’t like to complicate my work life. Dating always comes a distant second to curling. I never wanted to take time away from practice long enough to be social. I’ve also never gotten serious enough with anyone else to welcome them into my friend and peer groups.” Silence fell between them except for the scrape of their blades against the ice for several heavy seconds. “I just made it sound like we’re getting serious, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Max confirmed.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to make us sound serious, or you didn’t mean for us to actually get serious?”
Callie tilted her head to the side and seemed to give the question its due consideration while Max held her breath.
“Both,” she finally said. “Is ‘both’ an option?”
Max nodded. “It should be, but I’m not certain what it means for us now.”
“Well, you be sure to let me know when you figure it out.”
She snorted. “You might have to wait awhile.”
“I’m in no hurry.” Callie gave her hand a comforting little squeeze. “I’m enjoying myself this weekend.”
“As am I,” Max said slowly, as if waiting for some disagreement to rise up inside her.
It didn’t.
“And now you sound surprised.”
“I’ve been to destination weddings and celebrity weddings and big family weddings, but this is my first curling wedding.”
“Yeah? What’s the verdict?”
“It’s a lot to take in, but I think I’m a fan. There’s been a great deal of fun and very little pretense.”
“Is that your style?”
She shrugged. “A year ago, I would’ve said no. I liked the fast-paced and flashy. I would’ve said I wanted a big society wedding with high-end everything, the social event of the season, pull out every stop and impress all the people. You know, really make a statement in style.”
Callie grimaced. “And now?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe my style is changing, or maybe I am, but I’m starting to think being surrounded by a handful of people I really like and trust, in a place where I could feel safe and loved might be the best way to start a new life with someone I could count on.”
“Agreed,” Callie said softly, and Max’s heart began to beat faster.
Had she just planned a wedding with this woman? However vague and hypothetical, that didn’t seem like a great idea. That’s what had gotten her in over her head last time. As soon as she’d started dreaming, she’d stopped thinking. That’s what had made her weak and vulnerable. She’d promised herself she’d never get stupid or sappy like that again, and now here she was, talking about weddings with a woman she’d known only three months.
Turning to look at Callie, her breath caught at the sight of her, eyes sparkling like the stars, hair stirring softly on the breeze, lips curled slightly upward. All the questions and fears blurred in the face of Callie. Surely, no one could blame her for getting swept up in her presence. How could any human hold her close and not fall for her?
She shook her head. No, no, no, she wasn’t falling for her. She couldn’t do this again. She was only supposed to be having some fun while covering curling. She had work to do. They both did.
They both did.
The internal phrase allowed some cold air back into her lungs. Callie was in the same boat. Callie had just admitted she always put her team first. Callie had her own life and priorities, just like Max. That’s why they were drawn to each other. That’s why they worked. Callie didn’t want anything from her. She wasn’t desperate or needy or asking to be saved.
She smiled almost ruefully at the thought of Callie being cloying or manipulative. Everything in her experience said the opposite was true. She was one of the most independent and driven women Max had ever met.
“Hey,” Callie said suddenly, “it’s almost midnight.”
Max glanced at her watch to see more time had slipped away than she’d realized. “You’re right. Want to go back to the party and ring it in with your friends?”
Callie looked back up toward the tent, then back at her. “Actually, I’m just mildly superstitious about how I start the New Year.”
“And?”
“And normally I’d very much want to do so with the entire curling community around me, but this year maybe it’s time to try something a little different.”
“I’ll defer to you,” Max offered. “If the start of last year was any indication, I’m not so great at picking auspicious beginnings.”
Callie squeezed her hand, this time pulling her all the way in until their bodies brushed against each other. “What if we didn’t try to race up to the future, but we didn’t hide from it, either? What if we just let it meet us, right where we are?”
“And we let it take us where we need to go?”
Callie shrugged. “It’s not usually my style, but I’ve been breaking my own rules all weekend, and so far it’s been working out pretty well.”
Max’s chest expanded at the warmth spreading there. She couldn’t disagree with Callie’s assessment, and even more so, she no longer wanted to. “Well, you know me. I’m not one to shrink from a challenge. If you can loosen your grip on the reins a bit, then I guess the least I can do is come along for the ride.”
Callie leaned so close their noses brushed against each other before she pushed back off again and looked up at the vast winter sky. “Okay, future. Here we are. Come and find us.”
Back in the tent a cheer went up, and even farther away fireworks sizzled and burst, but Max was only peripherally aware that anyone or anything else existed. For her, in this moment, there was only Callie.
Chapter Twenty
The sun’s rays were already slanting down through the top of the blinds when Callie rolled over and opened her eyes. Normally that would’ve been cause to spring out of bed in a panic, but today she felt only gratitude for the way they illuminated the smooth skin of Max’s bare back and shoulders. She would’ve thought she’d kissed and caressed every inch of her last night, or rather early this morning, but here in the full light of their tiny cabin she noticed the little indent where the curve of her spine met the white sheet between them.
Scooting lower in the bed, she pressed her lips to the hollow, relishing the warm, smooth slope and the faint hint of salt, a reminder of recent exertion. Pushing the sheet lower, she slowly followed its path with her lips, tracing each vertebra.
“Good morning to you, too,” Max mumbled groggily.
“Happy New Year.”
“Indeed,” Max sighed, and rolled more fully onto her stomach.
Callie climbed onto her back and began to kiss her way up, dragging her body slowly across the length of Max’s as she went. Her own muscles ached in places they usually didn’t, but instead of slowing down, th
e reminder of their joint workouts only made her want more.
“You are insatiable,” Max said, likely feeling the evidence of Callie’s arousal against her back.
“Are you complaining?” She nipped at Max’s earlobe.
“Not at all. Zero complaints,” Max muttered into the pillow.
She rolled her hips forward so they ground against Max’s firm ass.
“Actually, less than zero. Like, I don’t know, negative complaints or subzero complaints.”
She liked the low, husky quality of Max’s voice in the morning. Sleep and sex added a rough edge to her normally smooth tones. She liked so many things about Max in the morning, actually—the way her hair feathered lightly across her ears, the way her body radiated heat, the pliant quality of her muscles before they fully engaged for the day. Why hadn’t she noticed these things before?
Because of curling.
The answer came immediately, because she’d carried it with her for years, never letting it slip from her mind for more than a few minutes at a time. What did it say, then, that she’d forgotten it now for days? Not only had she not practiced since they’d left Buffalo earlier in the week, she hadn’t worked out in that time either, not even yoga or push-ups. She hadn’t watched video or studied strategy. She hadn’t done anything even remotely related to practice or preparation, and what was more shocking, she hadn’t wanted to. They were less than two weeks out from a major world event and a month out from the US nationals. She was a month from the confrontation that would likely seal her ranking and her funding for the next year, the year before the Olympics. This was exactly the time she needed to push herself hardest, and it wasn’t like she didn’t have that in her. For years she’d done nothing but work and push and practice.
Max shifted beneath her and pulled Callie into the present and the physical.
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re the best blanket ever? Super warm and also super sexy.”
Callie grinned and kissed the back of her shoulder. “No, can’t say that anyone’s ever mentioned those qualities to me before.”
Fire & Ice Page 25