“How about one last lap around the ice?” Brandon said. “Then I should go to the party.”
“Yeah.” Why did it disappoint me that he needed to, or wanted to, leave? “Of course.” I jumped up. “Last one on the ice is a rotten egg.”
Chapter Four
Dakota took off at a fast clip toward the ice and I jumped up, grabbing our empty coffee cups. I tossed them in the trash as I followed her, knowing I should take off the skates and get out of there. She had me intrigued, too much so. Several times I had thought about kissing her, and that was just a bad idea.
She was knee deep in breakup drama and I had no business involving myself in that. Plus I did need to get to the party. Maybe it was my imagination but she had looked disappointed when I had said I should leave.
But for right now, I was going to linger for a minute. Just enjoy the crisp air, the holiday lights, and the sound of her laughter. She had a magical laugh– unrestrained and joyful. When I had gotten the coffees, I had bought a sprig of mistletoe from a bowl of them at the check-out counter. It was burning a hole in my pocket.
One kiss. That’s all I wanted. Well. That was a fucking lie. That absolutely was not all I wanted, but the smart thing to do would be to take a kiss and run.
We did more than one circle around the rink. We actually did three before she stepped off the ice and I followed. “Thanks for doing this with me,” she said, breathless, as we made our way to retrieve our shoes.
“It was my pleasure.” An older woman dropped a twenty dollar bill. I snagged it and handed it back to her. When I turned back to Dakota she was eying me with amusement.
“You know what I think? I think you’re a fraud.”
“A fraud?” I’d been accused of a lot of things. Never that. “Why?”
“Yes. You’re not really a grump. You’re a nice guy pretending to be a grump.”
I shrugged. I was both. “It’s not an act. What you see is what you get.”
“I see a lot of things,” she said. “And I like them.” Dakota moved in front of me and fingered one of the buttons on my shirt. “What do you see?”
Now was the time. Consequences be damned. I’d save the regrets for a day when she wasn’t bathed in holiday lights, her breath frosting in front of her.
I pulled out the mistletoe and tipped it back and forth in front of her. “I see a woman I would really, really like to kiss.”
“Where did you get that, you devious man?” She looked delighted and intrigued.
“Coffeeshop.” I held it up over our heads. Then with my free hand I stroked her cheek, running my thumb over her lip. “You’re very beautiful.”
She didn’t respond, just raised herself up, lips parting in an open invitation.
I bent down and covered her mouth with my own. Our lips teased and tasted, a perfect fit. She closed her eyes, which I’d been warned never to do in public in New York. But there, in the crowd, I did the same, wanting to experience her completely and thoroughly.
It was a slow, smooth, delicious kiss. Her hands wrapped around my neck. I pulled her closer against me, lowering the mistletoe so I could cup both of her cheeks with my palms. It was perfect. We fit together perfectly and as our tongues teased each other, the kiss grew hotter, more urgent.
I wanted more.
I wanted her.
But she broke away and stared up at me, breathing a little hard. She opened her mouth to speak, but then turned when we heard a voice yelling, “Dakota! Dakota!”
There was a woman with dark hair, hand wrapped around the arm of a man in a suit. She was waving vigorously with the other hand.
Dakota waved back. “I texted my friend,” she said. “I’m going to stay with her and her husband tonight. They have a huge townhouse.”
“I’m glad you have someone to stay with.” Even though I wished it could be me, which it couldn’t. My girls were at my apartment with a sitter.
I wanted to say something else, but I said nothing.
She said nothing.
Finally she glanced back at her friend again. “I should go.”
“Of course. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime. If fate allows it.” I tucked the mistletoe into her coat pocket and gave her a smile.
“Merry Christmas, Brandon,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas, Dakota.” I brushed my lips briefly across hers.
Then she went one way and I went the other.
Why the hell hadn’t I gotten her number? It was all I could think about as I went up the elevator for the second time that night. No, I didn’t need any entanglements right now, but if she was fresh off a relationship, she might have been all on board with some casual sex at a later date. I liked her and she was incredibly attractive. What more could I ask for right now in a bed partner?
Except I would never know if she would have said yes or not because I was a fucking idiot and hadn’t asked.
The party was in full swing. I was met almost immediately at the door by our star quarterback. I was excited to work with him even further. I’d been pulled in at the tail end of a disastrous season. “Coach, hey, what’s up?” He held his hand out.
I shook it. “Hey, North, how’s it going?”
He shook his head, long blond hair spilling over his suit collar. “You missed all the action, man. Marksman tried to surprise his girl tonight with a wedding, but she rolled. Just took off running.”
“What?” I frowned, gesturing to a waiter who was walking around with a tray of drinks. I grabbed a flute of champagne, sipped it, then made a face. Not my thing. I wanted a whiskey. “Come to the bar with me. I can’t drink this shit.”
We went to the bar and he got a beer, me a whiskey. “So how do you surprise someone with a wedding?”
Sinclair, a veteran running back, had joined us. “Everyone thinks it's a party, including your girlfriend, and then she shows up and it’s a wedding.”
That sounded like hell. “I don’t know why anyone would ever want to do that. Seriously.”
Sinclair had a laugh that was infectious. Then he caught himself. “I shouldn’t laugh. Marksman got left at the altar. But you gotta know one hundred percent she’s saying yes to do it like this.”
“Where is Marksman?” I scanned the room but didn’t see him. It looked like a wedding reception that had gone on without a happy couple.
“I think he went to find her. You should have seen it. Those doors opened, she saw the room all set up, and just turned and ran.”
“I guess she wasn’t expecting to walk down the aisle tonight.” I sipped my whisky. The whole thing seemed insane to me, and I couldn’t say I blamed the unknowing bride at all. Plus, I was preoccupied anyway with thoughts of Dakota.
“They’ve only been dating a few months,” North said. “I’ve never met her, and I still didn’t. I just saw a tall blonde in a red dress and then she was gone.”
Wait a minute.
Sinclair cracked his hands together. “Bam. Gone.”
“A tall blonde?” In a red dress. “What’s her name?”
“Dakota.” Sinclair turned and pointed. There was a giant floral arrangement that spelled out Dakota and Dante. “Last anyone saw she was jumping in a carriage with some dude.”