Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
When Dom returns alone a few minutes later, he has a pair of ice skates in each hand. He grins as my eyes lock with his, and I see what my sister means about him being attractive. Today, he’s wearing gray athletic shorts, a white Coyotes T-shirt that fits his muscular shoulders and upper arms just right, and a worn baseball cap.
“You said you don’t know how to ice-skate, either,” Dom says when he reaches me.
My lips part. I thought when he asked us when we walked into the arena a few minutes ago if we could ice-skate, he was just making conversation.
“Yeah, I grew up on the south side of Chicago.” I smile wryly. “My dad taught me how to fix cars, use a switchblade, and throw a punch, but I never learned to ice-skate.”
Dom arches his brows, looking amused. “I know you’re not saying you’re tougher than I am.”
I shrug, laughing. “I am tough, but I have no idea about you.”
He sets a pair of white figure skates down next to me. “Size eight?”
“Uh...” I glance at the skates and then back at him. “Yeah, but I’ll have to be carried out of here on a stretcher if I try to ice-skate.”
“I see.” He nods and locks his gaze onto mine. “Tough enough to throw a solid punch, but not tough enough to learn how to ice-skate?”
I laugh at the absurdity of his question. “Since when does learning to ice-skate make someone tough?”
He sits down next to me. Not only can I feel the warmth of his body beside me, I can smell...is that cologne? It has notes of pine and leather and whatever it is, it’s making me involuntarily clench my thighs together.
I’m a single mom and a waitress. I drive Hannah to dance practice. Make ham sandwiches for my nephews’ lunches. Turn every item of clothing Zee owns right side out so I can wash them on laundry day. Wipe down tables and refill coffee mugs. It’s been so long since I’ve sat next to an attractive man that it feels foreign to me now.
Dom reaches down to untie his shoes. “If you do anything you know will make you fall down and possibly embarrass yourself, that’s tough, right?”
I groan. “Okay, you can save the life lessons for my son. I’m all grown up.”
He looks over at me. “Come on, Tess. It’ll be fun. I won’t let you fall.”
The sudden fluttering sensation in my stomach catches me off guard. I’m not a damsel in distress by any means, but something about Dom saying he won’t let me fall turned me a little gooey inside.
And I don’t like it. I swore after getting burned yet again by a man I was dating a few years ago that I was done. I only rely on myself, so I’m never disappointed.
“Are there any of those walker things like I’ve seen on TV?” I ask. “The things you can hold on to while you’re learning to skate?”
“Yeah, I can get you one.”
Skates already laced up, Dom snaps guards onto each of his blades and gets up, walking as easily as he does when wearing shoes.
I need to model a good attitude for Zane, so I begrudgingly take off my shoes and put the ice skates on. Dom guessed my size correctly. By the time he returns, I’ve already stumbled my way over to the waist-high wall, holding on to it for support.
“Somebody must have moved them,” he says empty-handed. “But I’ve taught people to skate before. I promise you won’t fall.”
I pinch my brows together, skeptical. “Who have you taught to skate?”
He grins. “I worked at my local ice rink in high school teaching youth skating. We worked on skating fundamentals for half of every lesson and fighting fundamentals for the other half.”
I can’t help laughing at the image. “Right.”
“No one graduated from Coach Dom’s class unless they could do a full lap forward and backward and cross-check an opponent onto their knees.”
His playful tone puts me at ease, but then he approaches me and offers me his hand, and my heart jumps back into overdrive. This is a terrible idea. I’m going to fall on my ass for sure.
“Come on, Tess. It’s almost time for the lights to dim and the disco ball to drop down from the ceiling. I’ve got some Ed Sheeran all cued up.”
“You better be joking.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Steeling myself, I take his hand, letting him slowly lead me onto the ice. I’m as wobbly as a newborn foal. Dom faces me and puts his other arm out toward me.
“Hold on to my forearms,” he instructs.
Once I have a death grip on his arms, I relax slightly. He starts to skate backward, the movement effortless.
“Keep your feet spaced just like that.” His eyes stay locked onto mine, the shade a mashup of browns and golds that remind me of coffee. “You don’t want to let your feet run away from you, or you’ll end up doing the splits.”