"No."
His jaw tightened. "Well, it's between Jake and me. Excuse me, Hannah, I need to speak to Alan."
She had a feeling he had less of a need to speak to the head of orthopedics than to get away from the conversation they were having, but she simply nodded.
As Davis headed across the room, her gaze reconnected with Jake's. He'd left her mother and was walking straight toward her, and the look in his eyes made her heart jump into her throat. The instantaneous reaction reminded her of high school, of how fast her pulse had raced when Jake gave her his trademark smile—boyish charm mixed with smoking-hot sexuality.
She drew in a breath, wishing she could make a run for it, but he was already too close.
"Hi," he said, exchanging a look with her that was filled with intimate memories from the night before. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she said, swiping her lips with her tongue as her mouth went dry. "I didn't think you'd be here. It's your father's turf."
"It's yours, too. And I wanted to see you."
"I should find my mom and Brett," she said, eager to get away from all the unsettled feelings running through her.
"They're getting ready to hear the Christmas story," he said, tipping his head toward the far end of the room. The kids were settling into a circle, getting ready to hear Dr. McKenna's traditional reading of A Christmas Story.
"Maybe I'll join them."
"Or," he said, moving in front of her. "We could have some fun."
"I don't think so. I have Brett."
"Your mom offered to babysit."
Her gaze narrowed. "Is that what you were speaking to her about?"
"Among other things."
"Well, the two of you don't get to decide who is going to watch Brett. That's my decision."
"Hannah," he said. "We weren't planning anything nefarious. I told her that I'd like to take you ice-skating after this. She said you haven't been skating in years."
"I don't know how she would know that."
"Is she wrong?"
She frowned. "It doesn't matter."
"Well, your mom said she'd be happy to take Brett home and watch him for the rest of the evening so that you could go skating."
"You should have asked me first."
"I ran into her before I ran into you."
She frowned. "I don't think that's exactly the way it happened."
"Well, I might have wanted to check with her first," he conceded. "She wants to babysit."
"Why would she want to babysit so you and I can go out? She doesn't like you."
"I think she's warming up to the new and improved me. I thought you were, too. Last night was good, Hannah, and I'm just asking for an hour of your time. You used to love to skate. Why don't you do it anymore?"
She had loved to skate, but she hadn't done it since high school. Sometimes, she got a wave of nostalgia when she saw the skaters, because there had been a time when she was a kid when she'd dreamed of being an Olympic skater. "I just got busy."
"You never take time for yourself, Hannah."
"Sure I do."
"Well, not much time," he said. "You've been with Brett all day, and you spend half your life in this hospital. Are you sure you can't sneak out for a little fun?"
"You always make everything sound so tempting."
"Is that a yes?" he asked with a sexy smile that made it really hard to say no.
She was torn. She needed to stop spending time with him. On the other hand, she wouldn't mind cutting out on the party and doing something fun. It had been a stressful few days, and she wouldn't mind a little break. "I need to speak to my mother first," she said, knowing she had to make sure that her mom was up to babysitting.
"Of course."
She made her way across the cafeteria. Her mother looked up as she approached.
"Do you really want to watch Brett tonight?" she asked her.
"Yes, I do. We'll have a great time. If you give me your keys, I'll drive him home in your car, since you have the car seat, and you can go with Jake."
"Are you sure?" She hated the doubt that crept into her voice. Her mom heard it, too, and annoyance entered her gaze.
"I am completely capable of doing this, Hannah. Why don't you stop worrying about everyone else for a change and have some fun? You always say I never help you, so accept my help."
"All right. Call me if you need me."
"I won't need you. Stay out as long as you want. I can always sleep over, too."
"I will not be out that late," she said pointedly.
"Whatever you want," her mom said with an airy wave.
As she left her mom, Jake came over, questioning gleam in his gaze.
"Are we going skating?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, telling herself it was just ice-skating.
Nothing else had to happen.
Chapter Nineteen
The ice rink was next to Jake's store, and they stopped in there to get skates rather than wait in line at the rental counter. She hadn't been in his store before. Everything connected to Jake had been off-limits for the past two years, but now she was impressed. He didn't have a lot of retail space, but it was well laid out, and there was a clear focus on the adventure experiences, which seemed to take up one side of the space. There were lots of posters on the walls, showing off the various adventures and their happy participants. There were also monitors hung around a large circular counter.
"What are the TV monitors for?" she asked.
"I have videos showing our tour offerings. I find that when people can actually see what we're offering, they're more eager to sign up."
"How do you get video of the more extreme adventures?"
"I've hired photographers, and I've also used drones."
She shook her head. "If you need to use a drone to capture the moment, you must be on the highest peaks."
"We go as high as we can," he admitted.
"Is there any place you haven't been able to get to?"
"There are a couple of spots on Victory Peak and Shelter Mountain, but it will happen someday. I just need the right set of conditions in order to make that happen. Now, let's find you some skates."
He led her over to the skate section and pulled out a pair of white boots with a shiny, sharp blade, and her heart skipped a beat.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"They're beautiful." She felt strangely reluctant to take them.
He gave her a quizzical look. "Want to try them on?"
"They'll fit," she said, knowing he'd grabbed the right size. "I just realized I haven't skated since high school, since you and I went out to Baker's Pond."
"Seriously? Not since then?"
"No. But it wasn't because of you," she added quickly.
"Thank goodness. I don't think I could handle being responsible for ending something you loved as much as skating." He paused. "You used to tell me that skating reminded you of your dad. It was bittersweet. But you still seemed to have fun when we did it."
"You made everything fun," she admitted. "After high school, I just stopped thinking about skating, and when I moved to Denver, it got further from my mind. It felt like something from another lifetime."
"But you've been back here for three years. You've never been tempted?"
"A little, but no one pushed me to get back on the ice."
"Good thing I came along."
"Is it a good thing?" she asked with a helpless shrug.
He smiled. "I think so, and hopefully you'll think so, too, at some point."
"Well, I don't need these new skates. I can rent a pair at the rink."
"Think of these as an early Christmas present."
She hesitated.
"Don't say no," he added quickly. "It's just a pair of skates, Hannah. They don't come with strings."
"I'm sure I have my old skates somewhere, and it's not like I'll be needing new skates in the future."
"You never know. You might hit the ice and want to
come skate as often as you used to."
"I don't think I have time for that."
He dangled the skates in front of her. "Please take 'em."
"Fine," she said, not wanting to argue about it. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll just grab my skates from upstairs. Want to come with me?"
Since she was somewhat curious to see his apartment, she gave a nod and followed him up the stairs.
As she entered his apartment, her first impression was that it was very masculine, from the hardwood floors and wood paneling to the brown leather couch and matching armchair. What surprised her most was the absence of a large TV, which in her mind was a staple in a single guy's apartment, but there was no television in the living room. There were, however, two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that were filled with books.
She wandered over to those shelves, noting a mix of fiction and nonfiction on a wide range of subjects. "I like that you still read."
"I didn't see very many books at your house," he commented. "Why is that?"
"I've gone digital. I still have some print, but most everything is on my tablet. It's much easier to take to work and read on my break."
"So you're still reading?"
"Every chance I get." As she looked away from the books, she noticed a comfortable clutter in the room: a couple of coffee mugs scattered between the coffee table and the kitchen island, as well as a sweatshirt tossed over the back of a chair. There were also golf clubs in a corner of the room and a set of skis leaning against the wall. "This apartment feels like you." She gave him a smile.
"Messy and disorganized?" he joked.
"More like comfortable and unpretentious."
"I'll take that."
One of the framed pictures on the wall caught her eye. "That is an amazing photo," she said. The photographer had captured a ski jumper in mid-air on one of the steepest, most spectacular mountains she'd ever seen. "Where was this taken?"
"Norway. My form wasn't bad, so I decided to hang it."
"Wait a second, this is you?" she asked in surprise. "I thought it was just something you bought."
"Nope, it's me from years ago."
She looked back at the photo. The athleticism and fearlessness of the skier was unbelievable. "I can't believe you did this. You're literally flying. Weren't you terrified?"
"I was focused. I'd been training for that jump for several months."
"Several months? Seems like it would take years to really prepare. What drives you to do this kind of stuff, Jake?"
"It's an adrenaline rush, for one thing."
"It has to be deeper than that." She wished she could read his gaze a bit better. "What's behind the wanderlust, the thirst for death-defying adventures?"
"Why does it have to be deeper than just loving the thrill of danger?" he challenged.
"Because it does." She thought about what his motivation might be. "Does it have something to do with your estranged relationship with your father?"
"No." He let out a sigh. "I just like to test myself against the biggest odds. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I'm not missing a moment that is meant to be lived."
His words took her in another direction. "It's about Paul. Your brother is so healthy now I sometimes forget how sick he was and how you used to dedicate your games to him. Did that continue when you started jumping off mountains?"
"Yes, it did. When Paul was first diagnosed with leukemia, he could barely get out of bed. When I'd come home from school, he was always eager to hear what I'd been doing. And it was my job to tell him a story that would take his mind off his pain. I needed adventures and experiences to share, so I went after them. When I left to go to college, I'd share my stories on the phone or in text. We always had something to talk about."
"And the adventures just got bigger and scarier. You kept pushing the boundaries."
"And somewhere along the line, it stopped being about Paul," he said. "I was on my own. I was accountable to no one, and there was nothing to hold me back. When I was challenging myself, I felt alive."
She gave him a thoughtful look. "What changed two years ago? Was there something specific that happened that made you decide you wanted to come home? That you wanted to be done with extreme adventures?"
"I'm not done, Hannah. I'm just taking my life in a different direction. I'm creating and sharing adventures with people who wouldn't get to have those experiences without me. I'm opening up their worlds, and I like that. I like being a part of a moment in their lives where they conquer their fear, try something new and step outside their comfort zone. It's fun and rewarding."
"I can see how it would be."
"But I can still travel. Just because I've reestablished some roots here in Whisper Lake doesn't mean I can't still take a vacation. I'm not trapped here. I choose to be here. And it feels different because it's my choice, because I was ready to come home."
"But you could choose to leave at any time."
"Just as you could," he said pointedly. "Are you trying to find another reason to push me away, Hannah?"
"I don't need another reason. I'm just saying…you could leave."
"I could, but I don't have any plans to do that. What about you?"
She shrugged. "To be honest, I've thought about leaving on occasion, wondering if I need to see more of the world."
"Is something stopping you?"
"Probably things that aren't completely true anymore, but I haven't let go of them."
"Like your mom and your brother needing you to be here?"
"Yes. I know Tyler doesn't need to be here, but I have been looking out for my mom."
"If you really want to see the world, you should go see it. You know what I think, Hannah?"
"I'm not sure I want to know."
"You've been taking care of everyone else for so long that you don't know how to let them take care of themselves, but they can."
"Deep down, I know that. But it's a recent development."
"Not that recent. Your mom has been sober for almost four years, right? And your brother has been gone a while, too."
She drew in a breath and let it out. "All true. But it's not like I'm dying to go. I love this community. I love my job. There's just been something missing."
"Or someone?" he challenged.
She wasn't going to touch that comment. "I think we should go skating."
He smiled. "We'll get there. It's always easier to look at someone else's life than your own, isn't it?"
"Absolutely. But I think we've talked enough. You said we're going to skate; I want to skate."
"Great. Why don't you leave your bag here, so you don't have to worry about carrying it around while you skate?"
"Are you trying to make sure I come back here after skating?"
"Now that you mention it…"
She couldn't help but grin at his absolutely see-through suggestion. "I'm going to leave my bag because I don't want to carry it around, but that's the only reason."
"Whatever you say."
She headed toward the door, then paused, giving him a pointed look. "And by the way, the ball is back in my court."
His only answer was a really sexy smile.
The skating rink was packed with families and kids. Holiday music and spinning lights added to the fun holiday atmosphere. They put on their skates and left their boots in a cubby, then stepped onto the rink.
The first slide of her blade on the ice brought back a torrent of memories, and she braced herself for whatever pain might follow, but it was the joy that came back, the feeling of familiarity, the sense that everything in her world that had been out of kilter suddenly fell back into place.
Yes, there were images in her head that reminded her of her dad, the way he'd watched her from the side as she took a lesson and the happy times afterward when they'd talked about her routine over hot chocolates or hot apple ciders. There were the two-hour drives they'd taken to rinks outside of Whisper Lake so she could compete. She'd
loved those drives because they were together and because she got to do something she loved.
Her dad had been very passionate about dreams. He'd always told her to follow her heart and not be afraid to really live her life, even if it was messy, even if she made mistakes.
His advice rang through her head now, and she couldn't help feeling like she hadn't really gone after her life. She did love her job and her friends. What about everything else? Was she pushing herself enough? Was she taking enough risks?
She looked over at Jake, knowing he was probably the biggest risk she could take.
He smiled. "This isn't enough, is it?"
"What do you mean?" she asked warily, not sure if he was talking about their relationship or the slow speed at which they were moving.
"Skating around in a circle with me. You need to go faster. You need to spin."
"It's too crowded."
"Not anymore," he said, as the rink changed over to adults only for the next ten minutes, and the kids and families cleared the ice. "You have the room you need. It's up to you to take it."
He gave her a little push, as if he didn't trust her to do it on her own. And maybe she wouldn't have.
"Fly, Hannah, the way you used to," he urged. "Feel the ice. Take this moment wherever you want it to go."
She pushed off, gathering speed as she moved forward. Her hair flew out behind her. She didn't know where Jake was anymore, somewhere behind her. But it didn't matter because she was flying. Her talent and her skill came back in seconds. It was as if she had never taken a break from skating. She was going forward, backward, and then spinning around. When the music stopped, the rink filled with applause, and it took a moment for her to realize they were clapping for her.
She felt a little embarrassed at the show she'd just put on, but as Jake joined her in the middle of the rink, she saw nothing but approval and respect in his eyes.
"That was fantastic," he said. "You never showed me that before."
"I don't know why I did now."
"You let the skater in you come out."
"I thought she was gone."
"She wasn't. How do you feel?"
"Amazing."
"Good. So, want to go slow with me again?" He extended his hand, and she took it.
Just One Kiss: A heartwarming Christmas romance (Whisper Lake Book 4) Page 18