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“Fuck,” he hisses. “Baby, don’t tempt me. I can’t miss this game.”
“Okay, I’ll be a good girl from now on,” I smile, innocently batting my eyelashes at him. “But just know, when I get you home tonight, I plan on being a very, very bad girl.”
Miller almost swerves off the road and gapes at me before trying to shake whatever image resides in his head. “You’re such an ass,” he laughs as he finally pulls up at the ice rink.
I go to make my way out of his SUV when his hold on my hand tightens and he pulls me back. “Wait a minute,” he says.
I glance back at him with my brows furrowed, unsure what could be keeping him. Usually, he can’t wait to get into the rink on game night. “What’s up?” I ask, hoping everything is okay.
He gives me a brilliant smile that makes my heart skip a beat and then releases his seatbelt to turn and face me. He reaches into the back seat with his other hand still firmly placed in mine and I wait, wondering what the hell is going on.
Miller pulls a box out of the backseat and hands it over to me. I take it from him cautiously, trying to read the expression on his face. “What’s this?” I ask as I flip the box around, trying to gauge a clue as to what the hell it is. I turn more in my seat and face him front on to decipher his reaction.
He smiles at me once again with that amazing sparkle in his eye. “Open it,” he instructs.
He releases my hand so I can open the mysterious blue box, and I glance up at him to find him studying me intently, looking slightly nervous and sick. “Are you alright?” I tease, my hand hovering over the lid of the box.
“Shut up and open the damn thing,” he demands, a stupid grin stretching across his handsome face.
Putting him out of his misery, I open the box and glance down to find a brand-new camera staring back at me. I suck in a gasp, my heart racing.
What. The. Hell?
“Are you serious?” I squeak, looking up at him. This thing must have cost a bomb. “I can’t accept this.”
“You can and you will,” he tells me. “I know how much you loved your old one, and I couldn’t stand the look on your face when you saw what was left of it. I promised myself that I would do anything it took to never see you so down again. I know this will never replace the one you lost or the images you’d taken. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s the right brand, let alone a good one, but the guy at the store assured me it was.”
“Miller,” I breathe, unable to find the words as tears well in my eyes. I put the camera down and climb across the truck until I’m straddled in his lap. Miller wraps me in his strong arms and holds me to him as tears spring from my eyes. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He smiles as he kisses me. “It’s all set up and ready to go so you can use it during the game,” he tells me, reaching up and wiping the tears off my face.
I beam down at him. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Anything for my girl,” he says. “You lost everything in the fire, and I nearly lost you. I know there’s still heaps of stuff that we need to replace, but I wanted to help you start to rebuild that.”
“God, I don’t know how to thank you,” I say, turning into a blubbering mess once again at his use of the termwe. “I love it, and I love you so damn much.”
“I know a few ways you can thank me,” he jokes as his hands wind down my body and grab my ass.
“Oh, I plan to,” I say, giving him a seductive smile.
Knowing if we don’t make a break for it now, I’ll end up bent over the back seat, we scurry out of his SUV and make our way into the ice rink, parting when Miller turns off for the locker room. I spot Sophie up in the grandstand in our usual spot and make my way up to her, flopping down into the seat next to her with a satisfied sigh.
“What’s up with you? You look all floaty and happy,” she gasps, feigning horror.
“Shut up,” I laugh, smacking her shoulder. “I’m just having a really great day.” I beam at her, holding up my new camera.
“What the fuck?” she screeches, gawking at the device in question.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I laugh. “Miller got it for me. He wanted to replace the one I lost.”
“Holy shit. He must have spent a bomb on this thing,” she gasps, taking the camera from me and inspecting it from every angle before proceeding to take a few shots. “Fuck, this is nice. That boy must be head over heels in love with you.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “He is.”
We sit and fiddle with my new camera for the next forty minutes, watching as the crowd around us fills every last seat, waiting to see if their favorite team will make it to the semi-finals; The Frozen Four in Chicago.
I go down to the merchandise store and make sure my girls have everything under control, which of course they do. They’ve been doing this for nearly the whole season. I purchase another jersey with Miller’s name on the back to replace the one I lost in the fire, rip it out of the packaging, and pull it straight over my head.
