I smile. “My grandpa Bruce owns it. It’s right next to City Hall, where the Parks and Rec department is, where my grandpa Harley worked for twenty-eight years.”
“Bruce and Harley are friends?”
“The best. Then about thirty years ago, they realized they were also in love and got married.”
Alex pauses, then nods. “Got it.” He turns to face me. “I think I should tell you, I’m not staying.”
I frown. “What do you mean?” Hehasto stay. He justhas to.
“I’m here for the first season. That’s it. After that, I’m going back to Portland to work for the Grays. That’s the deal.”
Oh. Well… My surprise gives way to disappointment, but that dissolves quickly as well. Of course, he’s not staying.
Alex Olsen isn’t a small-town guy. He’s not a minor-league hockey player. He doesn’t fit in here, and there’s nothing really for him here. Not long-term.
Of course, he’s going to leave.
“But you’re here until April.”
“Yes.”
Okay. That’s what Ireallyneed. “So we’re on the same page.”
“We are.”
I stick out my hand. “Here’s to the new season.”
He takes my hand, his huge palm engulfing mine. His skin is hot, even more than the weather would account for. He doesn’t shake my hand and withdraw. He just holds it.
I’m aware of his size, the roughness of his skin, the solidness of even this part of his body against mine.
Damn. I don’t remember the last time a guy made my mouth dry by simply touching my hand. Has iteverhappened?
“I’ll do my best to deliver what you need, Nora,” he says.
Is his voice husky? Or is that justmybrain making that sound sexy?
I swallow and pull my hand away. “You have practice soon.”
“Yeah, late. Are they just waiting for me to get here?”
“Practice is at six p.m. every day.”
He frowns. “Why? It might be good?—”
“Because it’s after work,” I insert.
He blinks at me.
I smile and explain. “The other guys on the team all have real jobs. Hockey here doesn’t pay like it does for you. The hockey is on the side.”
He frowns as if none of that computes.
I laugh. “A job is something people do to make money when they can’t convince people to pay them millions of dollars to slap a puck around on the ice.”
He chuckles and whoa. The sound rolls over me like a hot, delicious vibration that I want to go on and on.
“I’ve heard of ‘jobs’”, he says.
