Nick grinned. “Yeah, just some PG shit.”
Maisie laughed. “That kiss was so not PG.”
He chuckled, low and somewhat growly. “You’re killing me.” Sighing, he looked like he was trying to gather his words. “I just want to be with you. Stop trying to avoid me or fight what’s between us. I let you emasculate me with holiday animal pajamas.”
Squeezing her legs tighter around his hips, she tapped her fingers on his chest. “Uh, those pajamas only made your masculinity… more prominent.”
His rumbly laugh warmed Maisie’s heart. “Come on, Maisie.”
Watching him closely, she stopped pretending she could push down her feelings. “Tell me what you want.” She had the feeling that even though it seemed like he had it all, his actual wants were far simpler than anyone would suspect.
“You. Us. Spending the next few days being this close. Being able to kiss you. I want to sit beside you and not pretend I’m not dying to know if your hair smells like flowers or if your lips taste like strawberries.”
Her heart felt like it twirled behind her rib cage. She never thought she’d see Nick King again. What happened after this week wasn’t necessarily up to her, but this decision was. She’d take what this week offered and try to hang on to her heart.
Reaching out, she took his hand. “PG isn’t so bad. It usually involves some light petting. Some over-the-clothes stuff.”
His laugh sent another pang of joy all the way through her system. That laugh. This man.
Nick leaned in again, kissed her gently on the mouth, then kissed the bridge of her nose. “Get your cookies, baby. No sense letting them go to waste.”
The endearment shocked her still. She stared at him and he stared back. She could see it surprised him just as much.
Could she do this? Fall into these four or five days with a man who already owned shares in her heart? That wasn’t really the question. It was more, how could she not take every moment possible with him? No one else had ever made her feel the way he did. It would be like a one-night stand, extended version. The sequel.
If and when theybothwalked away this time, she’d be perfectly fine.
“You got it, Hockey Man.”
He laughed, tickled her ribs lightly as he helped her off the counter, then they sat there, eating pieces of broken cookie, talking about nothing with their legs intertwined.
Chapter Thirteen
NICK HOVERED AT THEedge of the stage, his fingers curled into tight fists. Self-talk, breathing in a goddamn square. He was a professional athlete; he worked with trainers and other pros. And, standing still, his heart raced like he’d run up a mountain with cement blocks on his feet. The air had a bite to it but he couldn’t feel it, even in just his thick, long-sleeve shirt. What the hell was he thinking, agreeing to this?That it shouldn’t be a big deal.It wouldn’t be, as long as the focus stayed on the event and not the typical barrage of questions like, “What’s next for you?” “Is this injury the start of the end?” “What really happened when you lost your temper?”
He would have thought it impossible for the town of Merry to be any more decorated than it was but, just two days until Christmas, the downtown core proved him wrong. The stage where he was supposed to give his celebrity nod to his favorite holiday dessert was dressed to look like Santa’s workshop. Asher’s eyes had nearly bounced out oftheir sockets when he’d seen it. A variety of toys and presents were staged on a couple of large workbenches. A blow-up snowman waved his arm in one corner. The backdrop behind them was plywood, cut and painted to resemble a gingerbread house, complete with a door that opened. Merry didn’t mess around about Christmas.
There were hundreds of people milling about in front of the stage, waiting for the event to begin. The energy rippling through the crowd was akin to a puck drop. Maisie’s family stood up front with Colt, Ellie, and Asher. Nick peered around the edge, trying to see if Maisie was with them yet.
She’d brought her camera and almost immediately began taking shots of things only she could see. To him, it was just a crowd of people, but he knew from looking at her website and through her online portfolio she didn’t see things like the rest of them did. She saw beauty instead of chaos, heartache through humor, moments that could be captured in the mundane. Maybe that’s why he felt like she could see him differently. Like there was something more to him than how he viewed himself. He was grateful she could do that given their history. Even more grateful that she was giving them a chance.
“Psst.”
He heard the telltale click of the camera shutter and knew it was her even before he turned to stare into her lens.
“Careful you don’t smile,” she said, continuing to shoot.
“If you keep taking pictures of me, it’s going to be my turn,” he teased, his shoulders relaxing.
Maisie lowered the camera and Nick did his best to focus on her face, the kindness in her knowing gaze, rather than the phones lifted and pointed his way. This might be a bad idea, asking for an untamed circus when that’s what he tried to avoid, but everyone else thought it was great. His publicist had been texting all morning. He wasn’t sure how she found out but since that was her job, he didn’t question it. She told him this was exactly the lighthearted vibe he needed topresent right now. It would do wonders for his image and hopefully shift some of the chatter from whether or not he was coming back to the ice.
Maisie stepped closer to him. “You good?”
He pulled in a deep breath that was all Maisie. “If I have to eat fruit cake, I won’t be.”
She smiled and it turned a key inside him. Unlocked something he was a master at keeping locked tight. Except with her. “That’s absolutely fair. You put chocolate chips in cake. Not weird fruit blobs.”
His lips twitched. Fuck, he liked her. “Blobs?”
