“Let me help you.” Cameron Wild is kneeling beside me, and he takes my foot into his hands. I fight him, and he shushes me with an, “Easy.”
He works to unwind the laces from around my foot, using his big, masculine hands with fingers that are callused and sturdy and…
“Don’t easy me, Mr. Wild. I’m fine.” I try to wrench my foot out of his grasp, but my shoe drags two skates with it.
Cameron takes my foot back onto his lap. “I’m glad to see your stick is back,” he says with a grin.
“What—” I frown as I remember what he said to me at the coffee shop. “I do not carry a damn stick!”
He nods. “Not always, no. A few times, you’ve looked like you’re afraid you’re going to be crushed. I hate seeing you afraid like that.”
I freeze, any retort I might have dying on my tongue.
His grin widens. “But I love it when you bring the stick out. It’s very sexy.”
My mouth drops open. “Sex…” I can’t finish the word. “Stop.”
“Sexy.” He says it again, and I cringe. His teeth look so straight and white as he leans closer to me. “Sexy. Yes. You are. And it’s okay to say it too.”
I close my eyes and let the mortification wash over me. When I re-open my eyes, Cameron is watching me.
“Mr. Wild. Please let’s return this conversation to a professional level.” I attempt to pull my foot off his lap again, and again he holds it firmly in place.
“Savannah,” he says resolutely. “First of all, call me Cam. And secondly, stop being so damn stubborn, and let me help you.”
Our eyes lock again. His are so intense I avert my gaze and stare down at my ensnared foot instead.
“Fine. Untie me, Cam.”
His shoulders shake with laughter, and I duck my head, mortified.
Can I not speak to this guy without using sexual innuendos?
He turns his attention to my shoe, thank God, and I spend the time thoroughly checking him out.
His black hair is nicely styled in a short straight cut, but it’s still messy enough to make me want to run my fingers through it. And he’s built. His shoulders are broad, and his biceps strain through his shirt. He looks every bit a professional athlete. I could tell when he was wearing an overcoat, for God’s sake.
He holds my foot gently while he works at the knot. Every time his fingers brush my shoe, I shiver. These open-toe ballet flats are too thin for this weather, but they’re my one vice during the long hockey winters. I’ll bundle up with a big coat and heavy clothes, but I love to let my feet feel free.
Cam releases my foot to the ground and picks up all four pairs of skates as he stands up.
I hurry to stand up too. “So you’re Declan Wild’s brother. I’ve seen him play on television. He’s been at it for a long time, huh?”
Cam nods, assessing me. “He loves it.”
Something about his statement feels meaningful, but I don’t want to pry further. “Well, that’s great. Good for him.” I reach for the skates in his hand. “I can take those. I have to bring them to the rink for practice.”
“I’m on my way to the locker room. I don’t mind taking them for you.”
He’s easily over six feet tall, and I look up until I meet his gaze. I start to stammer about ice skates and how chilly ice rinks are.
“Savannah!” Craig’s large form appears in the doorway. “I need those skates—did you sharpen them?”
I grab them out of Cam’s hands, and then I pass them to Craig without a word. He takes them with a grunt that I think must be a thank you but surely doesn’t sound very polite. Cam watches my face as I interact with Craig, who then says, “Did you two meet?”
“We’ve met, yes.” Cam’s gaze slides to mine, and his eyes are questioning, wondering if Craig knows about what happened to me this morning.
I give a slight shake of my head, hoping he won’t bring it up. Craig’s not the most understanding man in the world, and I hate drawing any extra attention to myself.
