It wasn’t the words as much as the tone. For this big, gruff man to use that gentle voice, a tone that said, I can take whatever you can’t carry, it just undid her.
A sob burst free, and then she was crying. Drawing her knees up, she turned in the circle of his arms, setting her hands on his shoulders and her cheek on his chest. A world of hurt engulfed her, and he held her, one hand slowly, lightly stroking her back. He didn’t shush her, didn’t tense up. He just let her fall to pieces.
But through the sorrow rose two overwhelming emotions. She swiped the tears off her face. “He’s gone.”
“Yeah, he is.”
She sat up. “No, I mean, he’s gone. And I’ll never know him.”
One hand cupped her ass to keep her from falling, and the other rested on the side of her thigh.
“My dad was a good man.” She gestured around the room. “He loved me. He wanted me. And I pushed him away.”
He tipped her chin. “Nah. You were just a kid. Your mom did it.” He held her gaze, not betraying a hint of emotion. Just fact.
She had to finally accept the truth about the mother she’d loved and trusted. “She’s the narcissist. Not Kurt.”
“Well, I obviously don’t know her, but I don’t think she is.”
She waited, desperate for him to make sense of her mum’s selfish actions.
“I’m not a parent, so I don’t know, but I went out with a single mom once, and her biggest issue was sharing her kids with her ex. When she didn’t have them for Christmas, she was devastated.”
Her mind was too cloudy to fully grasp what he was saying. “Yes, I understand that, but to keep me from my dad. To ask him to walk away. God, I needed him. Didn’t she understand my self-esteem hinged on believing my father didn’t want me? Didn’t love me?”
“It seems like she thought you were young enough that you’d get what you needed from Andrew. Like I said, I don’t know your mom, and I’m in no way justifying her actions, but in trying to understand where she was coming from…she was a single mom, she’d met someone she wanted to make a family with, and she didn’t want to share you with someone who lived so far away. It might’ve been different if Kurt had lived in the same neighborhood.”
“Honestly, I can’t even be angry with her right now because I’m just so devastated that I missed out on knowing him. All my life I waited for him to reach out to me. To send a card, a letter, anything that said he missed me. Wanted me. But I’m an adult now, and I wished I’d made the effort. I hate myself for not doing that.” She got off his lap and wandered to the window.
Heart saturated with grief and loss, she crossed her arms over her chest. “And now, I’ll never have the chance.”
Declan’s coaching session had run a little long, so when he looked for Phinny and didn’t see her in the stands, he got worried and pulled out his phone. As he typed out a text, kids skated by, and coaches barked instructions. Now that he’d stopped moving, the cold hit his cheeks and fingers.
Declan: Where did you go?
“I’m right here.” She stood at the side of the rink with a smile bright enough to melt the ice. “You ready to go?”
Unreasonably happy to see her, he skated to the wall. “Yeah. Sorry it went so long.”
“Are you kidding me? I asked if I could come with you for a reason.”
The tip of her nose was red, and he wanted to kiss her until she warmed up all over. “Because you’re dying to get out here and skate?” He always wanted to touch her.
“Uh, no. Because you’re the best one out there.”
“Not even close. There are six pros on the ice right now. That guy I just coached? He was the lead scorer last season.”
“I don’t care about stats. Take it from someone who knows nothing about hockey, you’re the hottest guy out there.”
“Oh. We’re talking about those kind of stats.”
“Right. The ones that matter. Cutest butt, broadest shoulders. If there was a Stanley Cup for the sexiest skater and most confident player, you’d be drinking from it right now.”
He grinned. “Huh. I should talk to someone about that. See what I can do.” Grabbing her hands, he brought them to his mouth and blew on them. “I think it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“For you to get out on the ice. Hard for you to judge without having skated before.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m not…there are clinics going on.” She tried to yank her hands out of his grasp. “Also, the festival’s tomorrow, and I want to help Tina—”
“She doesn’t need our help.” He tightened his hold. “She’s been running it for twenty years, and she’s got all the help she needs.” Holding her hand in a firm grip, he skated off the ice. “Come on. This’ll be fun.”
“Uh, no. It’ll be a shitshow.”
Hearing that word in her posh British accent was adorable. He held her hand while he walked her over to the rental desk. “You’ve been hanging around the hands too much.”
“What does that mean?”
“Have you ever used the word shitshow before?”
She laughed. “No, but what a great word.”
Once there, he looked down at her feet. “Kelly, can we get size…?”
Phinny wrenched her hand free. “That’s okay. Seriously, the kids are still working. No skates for me.”
Kelly—Jaime’s cousin who was paying her own way through college by taking odd jobs—set her arms on the counter and hiked herself over it to get a look at Phinny’s feet. “Size seven?”
“How did you know?” Phinny asked.
Her green eyes glittered with mischief. “Because handing out skates is what I do for a living. Be right back.”
Phinny glanced up at him. “This is a really bad idea.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll land on my butt.”
“I’m fairly invested in that butt, and I would never let anything happen to it.”
Desire flared in her eyes. Good. He didn’t want to skirt around the truth anymore. No more games.
“No?” She seemed to search his eyes, looking for a conversation he wouldn’t have at an ice skating rink.
“If I promise to protect your ass, will you give it a try? I won’t let you get hurt.”
A slow smile bloomed across her features. “I believe you.” Those luscious lips curved up into a smile drew him inexorably to the softness of her mouth—
Skates clunked on the counter. “Here you go.” The laughter in Kelly’s voice told him she knew exactly what she’d just interrupted. “Have fun.”
“Thanks.” He tapped the counter. “Hey, how’s it going with Ezra?”
That killed her smile. “It’s not. It’s not going anywhere. We broke up because he’s a lying, cheating, horndog asshole. I hate hockey players.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He could see the pain etched into the lines around her eyes. “And I’m sorry he wasn’t man enough to break up with you so he could pursue his other interests.”