“Then go get your skates. I’ll wait here.”
I practically flew up the five flights of stairs, my exhaustion forgotten. I found my skates in the back of my closet, still in the bag I’d packed them in when I’d moved from Wyoming. I was hoping to get the chance to get on the ice.
I quickly changed into warmer clothes. I pulled on my thermal leggings and then my loose jeans that would give me freedom to move. I added an extra layer under my sweater, grabbed my gloves, and hurried back downstairs.
Dane was still there, car running, waiting exactly where I’d left him.
I slid back into the passenger seat, slightly breathless. “Okay. I’m ready.”
He grinned. “You changed.”
“I wasn’t going ice skating in a dress.”
He looked down at himself. “I’m wearing a suit.”
“But it’s still pants and you have a nice winter coat. You’ll be fine—unless you plan on sitting on the ice.”
He laughed. “We’ll see who’s the better skater.”
CHAPTER 18
DANE
The rink was a smaller one tucked away in a quieter section of Central Park that tourists didn’t usually find. I discovered it years ago during one of my late-night hockey games with Sean and the guys. It was a hidden gem that rarely got crowded, even on weekends.
Tonight, with the snow falling steadily, it was nearly empty.
Ina sat on a bench lacing up her skates. The skates were well worn and spoke of years of use.
“Ready?” I asked, already on my feet, my own skates laced.
She looked up at me and grinned. “Are you? Because I should warn you, I’m pretty good at this.”
“I’ve been playing hockey since I was three. I think I can handle a casual skate.”
“Hockey.” She stood, testing her balance. “That’s basically just ice skating with violence, right?”
“Basically,” I said with a laugh.
She stepped onto the ice, and I followed. “Come on, let’s take it slow and easy. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
I opened my mouth to respond with something appropriately dry and sarcastic, but then Ina pushed off. And everything I’d been about to say died in my throat.
She didn’t just skate. Sheglided. Moved across the ice like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she’d been born doing this. Her movements were fluid and graceful, but there was power behind them, real strength in the way she took the turns. I watched as she built speed without seeming to try.
I’d seen professional skaters before. Had watched enough Olympic coverage to know what skill looked like. Ina wasn’t quite at that level, but she was close. Close enough that I found myself completely still on the ice, just watching her move.
She did a small spin. Nothing fancy but executed perfectly. When she came out of it, she caught me staring.
“What?” she called, skating backward without having to look where she was going. “I told you I was good!”
“You didn’t tell me you were this good.”
She laughed and spun again. The sound of it mixed with the soft hiss of her blades on ice and the silence of the falling snow sent shivers up and down my spine that had zero to do with the chill in the air.
She’s beautiful, I thought, watching her hair billow behind her as she picked up speed.Absolutely beautiful.
She was flushed with cold and joy. Snowflakes caught in her dark hair. She acted like a bird set free from its cage. The strength she usually kept hidden behind kindness and careful professionalism was on full display here, and it was mesmerizing.
