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I see one of the boys telling Rain that she’s not that good of a skater, and she looks at him and says, “I’ll race you.”
I want to butt in and tell the kid he’s being a dick, but I just stand here now watching it play out. The kid is a good head taller than she is. One of the rookies, Reed, skates over to them, and he asks them what’s going on.
Cole skates beside me. “What’s going on?”
“Kid says he can skate faster than Rain,” I explain as Reed tells them the rules. I watch him point from one blue line to the other.
They line up behind the blue line, and I stand here with my arms over my chest watching, waiting to see if maybe perhaps I have to go in and trip this kid by “accident.”
I see Rain smirk over at him as he says something, and she just shrugs. “Okay, one, two, three. Go,” Reed announces, and the two of them take off. The kid makes the mistake of looking over at Rain, who ignores him and just focuses on getting to the line before him. She takes him with a couple of seconds to spare, her hands going up in the air.
“Yes,” I hiss, holding my hand in a fist and skating over to her. I hold up my hand for her to give me a high five.
“That’s my girl,” I praise her and then sneer at the kid. “Punk,” I mumble under my breath. “Go get something to drink.” I motion with my head toward the bench.
The photographer is on the ice taking pictures, so I skate over to the bench and hold out my hand for Koda, who just stares at it. “I want to get a picture,” I tell her, and she comes over, putting her hand in mine as she walks onto the ice. Her hand is in mine as we gather the girls, who stand in front of us. I pull her to my side, wrapping my arm around her waist, her front is stuck to my side so I can put one hand on Luna’s shoulder, who stands in front of Koda, and put an arm on Rain’s shoulder. I literally have them all in my arms, and I couldn’t be happier.
“You okay?” Koda whispers.
“Yeah, baby,” I confirm. This is it, I think to myself. This is what I’ve been looking for. This is what all of my cousins have, and it’s here right now in my hands. The only thing I can think of is how do I make them know that for the rest of my life, I’m going to do whatever I can do in my power to make them happy. “I’m more than okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
dakota
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask Christopher when I grab my bag from the back of his truck and start walking toward the private plane sitting on the tarmac.
“I gave you hints,” he reminds me from behind, and I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder to see him smirking at me, which literally now just makes me wet every single time he does it.
I’m lucky I don’t trip on my feet as we walk toward the plane. His hand is in mine. “What hints did you give me? I asked what I should pack.”
“And I said nothing because you’ll be naked all weekend,” he repeats what he’s been telling me for the last week, “yet you packed a whole bag.”
“I wasn’t going to come with no clothes at all,” I gasp as I walk up the steps to the plane.
“Good morning,” the flight attendant says when I board the plane. “Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”
“Um.” I want to correct him, but then Christopher’s hands land on my hips. “Thank you,” I mumble, walking toward one of the seats.
“We’ll be taking off shortly,” he informs us before turning and saying something to the captain.
Christopher takes my bag and shakes his head. “This is very heavy for not a lot of things.”
“I didn’t know where we were going, so I had to have some options.” I shrug off my jacket before I sit in one of the chairs. “If you don’t stop, I won’t put on the special outfit I bought for you.” Looking up at him, I see him clench his teeth, and all I can do is look out the window so he doesn’t see me laughing at him.
“You know what I’m most excited about?” Christopher asks, sitting next to me. “Having sex in a bed.”
I gasp and look over at the flight attendant to see if he’s listening to our conversation, but he’s too busy closing the door. “Christopher,” I hiss.
“Baby,” he croons, making all of my body parts melt. He leans over, whispering, “I love sinking into you no matter where it is.” His breath on my ear makes me shiver. “But the thought of you spread-eagle, naked on the bed”—I swear I have to cross my legs—“I’ve been hard all week long.”
“Are you done?” I ask, turning my head and coming face-to-face with him. He brings his hand up to cup my cheek, and I swear one day his touch is not going to make my heart race. One day, his kiss isn’t going to feel like the first time. One day, I’ll get used to him touching me. I don’t know when it’ll be, but I’m sure it’ll be soon.
“No.” His lips brush mine. “I’m not nearly done with you.” His thumb rubs my cheek. “I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.” He doesn’t wait for me to say anything to him. He just slowly kisses me, his tongue sliding in with mine. My hand comes up to hold his on my face as we make out. It’s wet, it’s soft, and it’s everything. My stomach does all sorts of things. It’s been over a month that we’ve been with each other. A week since we officially came out as a couple, or whatever it is we’re calling it. We haven’t really spoken about it, or better yet, I’ve been too chickenshit to ask him what it is. I figure it’s past the stage when I call him my boyfriend. As a widowed single mother of two children, I think girlfriend is a bit young for me. “All we need is a bed,” he mumbles when he lets go of my lips, “and maybe some whipped cream.”
“Oh, I could totally go for some whipped cream,” I tell him, leaning and kissing his neck. “Going to add that to my ever-growing list.”
“I have a list also,” he informs me, and I sit back in my chair and turn sideways to look at him. “There is one thing on there for this weekend. It’s just one word. Bed.”
