Page 6 of Melt the Ice

Sighing, I run a hand over my face, stopping to scratch my beard before letting my hand fall to the side. “Yeah, Lettie.” I pause when the crease between her eyes deepens. “I’d just leave. Move in with one of my teammates until I find my own place. Not a big deal.”

It is a big deal. The ranch is the last piece of paradise I have. One I hoped I’d always have, whether she was here or not. The thought of leaving the home I built leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It was supposed to be my forever home, but I’d give it up for her. I’d do anything for her, and that might be my downfall.

“Teammates?”

My eyes slide to hers just in time to see her pull her bottom lip between her teeth.

My hand shoots toward her through the rungs in the rail. “Lucas Monroe.” I sing, “Forward for the Tampa Bay Hawks.”

Her shoulders tense.

“I did it,” I say quietly. “I kept up my end of our deal.”

Her eyes turn glassy as she focuses on the corral over my shoulder. “I know,” she whispers. “Proud of you,” she says, a slight tremor in her voice.

She might as well have shoved a stake through my heart with the violent way it squeezes. The day we made that deal rolls like a movie, my throat tightening as I struggle to take a full breath.

“What do you want to be when you grow up, Goldie?” she asks as we stare up at the sunflowers swaying in the early afternoon breeze.

I give her a little hum before my hand finds hers, something I’ve done a lot this summer. I hope she doesn’t mind. “It’d be pretty cool to go pro in hockey. I only started playing a couple of years ago, but it’s fun. I’m pretty good at it. I mean, I think I am. That’s what my coach says anyway.” I start to ramble, before cutting myself off. It’s a nervous habit, I don’t like the silence, it makes my skin itchy.

“What about you, Lettie Girl?” I ask as I turn my head to look at her.

She smiles. “I want to run the ranch one day. This is my happy place, well, it’s my happy place as long as you’re here.”

“Make a deal?” I ask, and she smiles as she nods. “I make it pro, you take over the ranch. We’ll be hockey ranchers raising babies to love cows and pucks.”

She squeals with laughter, feet kicking in the air. “You got yourself a deal, Goldie!”

She didn’t shake my hand before I dropped it. My brain tells me to run, that we aren’t safe with her. Big red flags wave, telling me that I’ll be left behind again, but this is my person, the one who was always supposed to be in my corner. But she already left once, and history repeats itself, doesn't it?

“Thanks,” I mumble, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace.

The silence stretches again, the two of us locked in a stare-off, and I can’t help but wonder what she sees when she looks at me. Does she wish she could turn back time, stay in my arms a little longer? Does she replay our nights spent by the bonfire over and over? Or did our memories and all the plans we made die with Ms. Anna?

“I’m gonna head in.” She breaks the silence. “You got this?”

I want to roll my eyes at the question, let her know I’ve had this for years while she's been doing whatever it is she’s been doing.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath while untying the lead and heading toward the stables. To my surprise, the pony follows without putting up a fight. I shoot her a side eye, and I swear the furry little jerk smiles like she knew exactly what she was doing. I’m really losing it if I think the animals are meddling in my love life. Well, lack thereof.

3

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It’s four thirty in the morning, and with the way my phone is vibrating on my nightstand, one would think Jeffery Dahmer had been spotted on the property. I grab it, swiping to answer without looking at the caller ID. “What?” I bark out.

A deep chuckle sounds from the other end of the line. “Morning, Ms. Arias.” I can practically hear Miller’s smirk with the amount of amusement in his tone.

“Mills, it’s too early,” I groan. There is no reason to be up this early, especially when coffee hasn’t been made yet. The sky isn’t even awake yet.

A low tsk has me tensing, ready for the berating I’d get from my father following that sound. “Come on, Little Bird. This is ranch life.” His voice trails off, and the background noise grows quieter as I presume he moves farther into the animal rehab. “Plus, Lucas is already feeding the calves.”

I mutter a curse under my breath. “I need coffee and a morning debrief or something. Couldn’t you have sent me a schedule? Aren’t you HR?”

Silence hangs heavy for a beat too long. I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call is still connected. His voice comes back a second later.

“No,” he huffs. “Do or don’t, but let me know so I can get to work.”