Grandma Joyce and Judy have conveniently disappeared to the living room, their delighted whispers carrying through the house.
“I should go,” Patton says, gathering his tools.
“Right. Thanks for fixing the light. What do I owe you?”
“Not a thing.” He pauses at the door. “But the festival is Saturday. You’re coming to the game, right?”
Is he asking me to go with him?
“I’m from the Parks & Rec department. The Fire & Ice Fest is at the park and it’s a form of recreation. Of course, I’ll be there.”
“Someone needs to watch.” He says goodbye to my grandmother and Judy, then, looking my way, he winks.
Like the repaired light, I brighten, then realize with astrange mixture of trepidation and excitement that it’s not only my family’s restaurant that’s in trouble.
Sometime between the supplier negotiations, being trapped together for twenty minutes in the office, and now, he has stopped being my nemesis.
I’m just not sure what he’s become instead.
But maybe the grouchy firefighter with the cocky smile and the emotionally unavailable heart might not be quite as unreachable as I thought.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
Because the last time I let myself believe someone cared, I ended up feeling like an unpaid assistant in my own relationship. The last time I thought someone saw me, it turned out that he only saw what I could do for him.
I won’t make that mistake again.
Even if Patton Cross knows exactly how I take my coffee.
Even if his rare smiles make my stomach flip.
Even if he is H-O-T and I mean that in every sense.
15
PATTON
As the pucksinks into the goal, my breath comes in white clouds from the frigid air of the outdoor rink.
“Nice hustle, Maverick!” James calls from center ice.
Austin adds, “Save some energy for Saturday.”
I’ve been preparing for the Fire & Ice Fest hockey game all week with extra practice sessions, reviewing plays, and making sure the crew, er, team is ready. We’ve won five years running, and I don’t plan on breaking that streak now.
“Again!” I bark, setting up for another drill.
Hayes groans. “Dude, it’s Tuesday. The game isn’t until the weekend.”
“Which gives us four days to not get sloppy.”
Reese skates over, tapping his stick against mine. “Someone is intense today. What has you so wound up?”
“Nothing. I just want to win.”
Austin glides past. “You always want to win. But you’re extra Maverick today. More grouchy than usual. It’s impressive, really.”
My glare would make lesser men flinch. Austin just looks wildly amused.
