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)
A snort-laugh escapes my mouth and my cheeks warm. “If I go down, I’m bringing you with me.”
His gaze is still locked onto my face, and I suddenly wish I’d done more than my usual two-minute makeup routine. Not that I want to impress him or anything, it’s just unnerving having someone looking at me for so long.
“First turn,” he says, not breaking our eye contact.
He knows the ice by heart. Without even looking over his shoulder, he leads me around the first turn, picking up the pace.
“Are we speed skating?” I mutter.
“We’re getting there. Turns are easier with some juice.”
“Do you get cold?”
I’ve got a hoodie and leggings on, but he’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He has to be cold.
“I’m used to it. Once I’ve done a few laps, I get warmed up, and I don’t even notice the cold.”
We skate in silence for about a minute, and it gives me too much time to focus on his strong forearms and warm skin. He’s a lot taller than me, his broad chest and shoulders...inviting.
I silently scold myself. This open-mindedness about men gets me in trouble every time. I’ve already got my hands full raising my kids and helping Cam get through school. I don’t need a distraction—no matter how good he smells.
He breaks the silence. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About how having Zane when you were sixteen was good for you. I think it’s great that you love being a mom so much.”
I smile and shake my head. “Some days, my kids make me crazy. Trust me, I’m not one of those moms who post pictures on Facebook about them being my whole reason for breathing.”
“Good, because that’s annoying as fuck. It’s not about what you say but what you do. The way you taught Zane what was going on with my car. Driving him here to work off his debt so you can teach him stealing has consequences. You’re a good mom.”
I swallow, fighting back the burn in my eyes. The last thing I want is for him to see how emotional those words are making me. When was the last time someone told me I’m a good mom? I can’t remember if anyone ever has. My grandparents did when Zane was a baby, but the only family I have left is my mom and we don’t talk much.
“I have my moments,” I say, deflecting the compliment. “I had to help Hannah build a replica of a castle last year for school and we were up until eleven. I didn’t even realize until it was done that our towers looked like dicks and I was too tired to change it. She got made fun of pretty hard over it and wouldn’t talk to me for two days.”
He grins, the dimple in his cheek I’m trying so hard not to notice catching my attention. “Were the towers at least circumcised?”
I burst out laughing as I remember the towers I constructed out of paper towel holders and an egg carton. “They were, and they were above-average towers if I do say so myself.”
“Nice. Those other kids just had tower envy.”
Movement in the bleachers catches my eye, and I see Zane standing there, looking pointedly at Dom.
Dom follows my gaze, then calls out to him. “Hey man, are you done? Ready for the next thing?”
We’re turning again, and when we hit the straight part of the ice, Dom picks up speed, so we close in on Zane quickly. He slows and then does something with his skate to come to a stop, snow flying up as he brings me to a halt with him.
“Whatever, man, I’ll just ice-skate,” Zane says. “It’s probably that or cleaning up more pubes.”
I force myself not to react. Dom managed to get my stubborn son to give in.
“Cool,” Dom says, wisely not reacting either. “You remember that shelf of extra skates by where you cleaned the gloves? Just find a pair in your size and come on out. Clip the blade guards on.”
Zane looks between the two of us and I drop my hold on Dom’s wrists, feeling busted by my own kid. He turns toward the locker room and walks away, leaving me alone with Dom again.
He grins and glides back a couple of feet. “Ready to try on your own?”
“Um...no.”
I reach out for him again, but he’s too far away.
“Come on,” he says. “You can do it. Not that I don’t like having a beautiful woman hanging on to me.”
I glare at him. “This has been fun so far, but it won’t be fun if I fall. Seriously. I can’t work if I’m injured.”
He motions me to come toward him with his hands, looking unfazed. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”
A promise from a man means nothing to me, but I’m not going into that. With a sigh, I slide one skate forward, and then the other one. Slowly, I advance closer to him.