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Daisy stood and flapped her wings.
I nodded. “Oh yeah, there’s that, too. He’s pretty hot.”
I’d never been particularly attracted to extra-large, burly-type men. Most of the guys I’d dated—not that there had been so many—had all looked the same: five ten, maybe five eleven, clean cut, nice lean build. Fox was a giant oak tree, with Atlas-like burden bearers for shoulders, and more testosterone in his pinky than any suit-wearing man living in Manhattan. Heck, the guy left the house clean shaven and sported a five o’clock shadow by midday.
Daisy had apparently decided she was done with our conversation. She jumped off her dog bed, wobbled to the kitchen, and pecked at the front door. I shook my head and opened it for her. She waddled toward the garage. “I’m even boring a duck with my overanalyzing.”
After Daisy was safely tucked away for the night, I told myself I wasn’t going to fix my hair or do anything special before going to pick up Fox. Yet I found myself with a mascara wand in front of the mirror anyway. Opal had said the rink was twenty minutes away, but I left almost forty minutes early, just in case there was traffic. The road was pretty empty, though, and I wound up pulling into the parking lot at nine forty. I parked right in front of the building so I could see the front door and turned on the radio, intending to sit and wait. But ten minutes later, all the water I’d consumed today to rehydrate and get rid of my hangover was suddenly pressing on my bladder.
I still had a little time until Fox finished up, plus the drive home would take another twenty minutes. So I needed to find a bathroom. There had to be one in the arena, so I went inside and looked around for a ladies’ room. On my way out, I spotted people skating on the ice. It was easy to find Fox since he was so much larger than the others. He glided across the rink as if balancing on a thin metal blade was as easy as walking. When he got to the sideboard, he made a sharp turn and dug his skates in to stop. A heavy spray of shaved ice flew up and walloped the plastic barrier.
I didn’t know much about hockey, but I was suddenly a giant fan. I walked closer to the rink for a better look. If I thought watching Fox skate did something to me, that was nothing compared to what happened when I got a look at the team he was coaching. I’d completely forgotten that Opal had told me he coached a team for players with special needs until I saw the faces of two men suited up in hockey equipment who were standing along the sidelines talking—both had Down syndrome. My heart squeezed. I was torn between wanting to hug the coach and jump him for how sexy he looked out there.
Everyone in the rink continued to go about their business, as if Fox Cassidy hadn’t just skated into a phone booth and come out a superhero. But I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. I watched in fascination as Fox stood in front of the net, and one by one, his team members skated to center ice and took shots. He yelled at one player to move his hands away from his body—something about giving his bottom hand more force. Another he instructed to dig his blade into the ice. I had no idea what any of it meant, but Fox grew sexier by the minute. At one point, he looked to the right side of the rink where I stood. His head had turned halfway back before he did a double take. He said something I couldn’t hear to the next player in line to shoot the puck, and then skated over to the waist-high door nearest me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Opal called and asked if I could pick you up. Her daughter had to work late at the hospital.”
“Shit. Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll wrap it up.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m not in a rush. Take your time. I only came in because I needed to use the bathroom.”
“You sure?”
Up close, his green eyes were so much greener when contrasting with his red cheeks. “Yeah. I’m kind of enjoying watching.”
I thought I might’ve caught a smirk, but couldn’t be sure through the helmet. And of course, Fox being Fox, he skated off without another word. Though I didn’t mind the abrupt departure this time, since the view from the back was equally as good as the front.
I took a seat on a nearby bench and watched my grumpy neighbor do his thing. He seemed like a good instructor; or at least there was a lot of head nodding from the players when he spoke. And I especially loved that he didn’t appear to treat the team members any different than anyone else. He laid into them when they did something he didn’t like and joked around in the typical way men busted chops. At the end of practice, Fox took off his helmet and gloves, and one by one the players slapped his hand as they exited the ice.
“I just need to grab my bag,” he yelled over to me.
“Take your time.”
With the rink now empty, and no Fox to heat up my blood, I realized how cold it was. I had on shorts and a T-shirt, and the air in here was cold enough to keep ice from melting. I was rubbing my arms when Fox returned.
“One of the parents wants to talk to me,” he said. “Sorry. I’ll only be a few minutes more.”
“No problem.”
He pulled a jacket out of his bag and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Be back.”
“Okay.”
Fox’s jacket was heavy—the kind of weight you probably need when you spend hours in an ice arena. But that wasn’t what warmed me.It was the smell. I couldn’t help myself. I raised one shoulder to bring it closer to my nose for a sniff.
Mmmm…
Musky, with a hint of leather. Masculine, just like everything about the owner. It made me wonder if the scent was even a cologne. I smiled to myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fox’s pheromones alone smelled this good.
Of course, that was the moment Fox walked back. His eyes narrowed. “What are you grinning about?”
“Nothing.” I hopped up from the bench. “You ready?”
“Yep.”
On the drive here, I’d been worried the trip home would be even more awkward than the car ride with Fox this morning. But my experience in the arena had changed the vibe. I’d barely buckled in and started the car before my questions started.
