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He grinned at her. He wondered if she knew about Kitty Caruso. He was itching to talk about how amazing Bree was. When he’d realised it at the bout he’d been speechless. The gang twigged to what was going on, but they only knew half the story, thinking he was reacting to the surprise his polite, shy colleague was a roller doll who pushed people over on the weekends.
“For an Italian mamma’s boy you’re all right, Ant.”
He laughed. “For a ball buster, you’re all right.”
Chris grinned back. “Don’t let her spiny anteater act put you off.”
He feigned confusion. Chris smacked his arm. “You know what I mean. I think you’d be cute together.”
“Cute, like kittens,” he grimaced.
She giggled. “Yeah, cute like kitties.”
He sat forward. “Kitties?” Chris knew, he’d bet an arm on it.
She wiggled her head. “Don’t you tell. She’s paranoid about it getting
out.”
“How did you figure out I knew?”
She laughed. “You just told me.”
He smacked his forehead. “Shit!” This being flipped out about a woman was making him soft in the head.
That night, late, after a run on the beach with Dan and Mitch, he rang Toni. “Do you know where Bree will be this weekend?”
“Stalker.”
“So.”
“Do you have the money?”
“What is this—an extortion racket? You either know where she is or you don’t.”
“Pagano, Gambese—of course it extortion. You either have the money or you don’t.”
He throttled his laugh. Last thing Toni needed was encouragement. “I’m getting it.”
“She’ll be helping with fresh meat try-outs on Saturday afternoon at the stadium.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t tell you that. She’s not going to make it easy for you.”
“I’d be disappointed if she did.”
He rang off on Toni’s evil snicker. He had three and half days to get through before he could see Bree again. No pressure, but Dan had three and a half days left to sell the Alfa. And he had three and a half days to work out what the fuck he was going to say to Bree that was more poetic, more acceptable than what he wanted to say, which was along the lines of, ‘you’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met but I fucking love how strong and fearless and competitive you are, and all I want to do is bite you’. But since that was likely to get him socked in the jaw or kneed in the groin, he had a great deal of thinking to do.
·
Bree’s knee was the colour of a hail storm over the ocean, mostly purple black with a strange accent of green. But it was bending again, and after treating it with a combination of arnica and ice over the week, she was able to skate well enough to put the freshies through their paces.
She had a group of ten newbies practicing standing starts to the sound of on old Peaches and Herb track, Shake your Grove Thing, when she noticed him, but he might’ve been there for a while. He had a newspaper and a coffee, as though he was prepared for a wait. Well good. He could wait forever. She had no intention of talking to him. She couldn’t imagine why he was here, other than to torture her with how goddamn gorgeous he looked, tanned and casual, slightly rumpled as though he’d just come off the beach. He had a pair of aviator sunglasses on top of his head and sat with one arm draped across the seat back.
And he was distracting her girls. She skated to the edge of the track nearest where he’d settled. He looked up from his paper and smiled; healthy white teeth and handsome face. Mischief laser lit in his dark broody eyes. She shouted up at him. “If you’re here to tell me you’re going to keep my secret you can forget it. I’ve decided it’s not worth keeping.”
He put the paper down and leaned forward. The track changed, Devo’s Whip It. There were three rows of seats between them but she was sure she could smell the salt on his skin. “You’re going to tell them?”
