Last Chance Christmas (8 page)

She wanted Riley to be able to try out that sled.

“Crepes first. Hockey second.” He shifted her back to the bed. “Afterward, I’ll let you know my verdict on the friends with benefits idea. It doesn’t sound like the right approach to making peace with the past.”

Probably not.

But when had her relationship with J.C. ever made sense?

“Fine.” She jutted her chin at him as she moved to a sitting position. “Just keep in mind you might not have a choice anymore. Now that I know how seducible you are, consider yourself fair game.”

‡

B
y late that
afternoon, there were at least twenty-five people in the Walkers’ backyard, helping J.C. and Shea construct the ice rink.

J.C. had texted her uncle Will who had taken his wife to visit her family in Ohio for the holidays. Will was on the road, but he’d taken time to send a link to the Cloud Spin hockey page on a popular social media network. After he’d posted a call for volunteers to help, people had started showing up within the hour, proving how much local residents had missed the tradition. Half the parents of Walt Walker’s mites and peewee teams had come and brought their players with them. John and Lisa Elliot were one of the first on board, bringing their son Riley. Shea was with them now, pulling sleds out of one of the storage barns behind the ice rink.

Most of the volunteers were shoveling snow for safe paths from the field near the Walker house. Although a couple of guys had cleared a parking area for cars on the empty field near the house, the hill behind the house needed to be shoveled by hand. The more skilled of the volunteers were finishing up the brackets for the boards so they could start filling the rink. Two of the families had brought firewood and carried it down the hill to the bonfire pit where late night hot cocoa parties or even midnight picnics occasionally took place after games. All around him, the sounds of pounding and hammering, shoveling and laughing filled the air.

“You’re a good man to take this on, J.C.” A strong hand clapped him on the shoulder and he turned to find Shea’s oldest cousin, Warren.

Built like a lumberjack, Warren looked the part with flannel over a thermal shirt, a heavy vest covering it all. A knit headband covered his ears, but his cheeks were bright red from the cold. Sandy haired and freckled, he looked like the rest of the Walkers and shared the easy temperament that could turn competitive once a puck was dropped.

“Thanks for coming by.” J.C. straightened from checking the antifreeze level in the new refrigeration he’d paid to have installed five years ago. “Shea will be glad to see you. She’s in the big barn with the Elliots, but she was looking for some of her family members last night at the Peaks.”

He didn’t mind putting the two of them in touch with each other this afternoon since J.C. suspected Shea would probably choose to stay at his place over her bachelor cousin’s house.

Especially now that she was committed to seducing J.C. as often as possible. He still hadn’t wrapped his brain around that turnabout of hers, but he didn’t plan on letting her leave Cloud Spin until they’d made progress in burying the hatchet from their past.

“Everyone’s out of town this year.” Warren spread his arms wide in good-natured disbelief. “It’s the damnedest thing. But maybe once Walt decided to go to Hawaii, all the rest of them figured it would be as good a year as any to hit the road.” Warren crouched down beside the refrigeration unit to inspect it. “This thing’s a beast, by the way. The last year Walt filled the rink, we played halfway through April.”

“Is that right?” Struck with a sentimental notion to upgrade the rink five years ago, J.C. had called a rep for the company who made the units and had a team go out to the Walker place to install it. He hadn’t been back much to enjoy it himself, but he’d thought Walt would at least be getting some use out of it for his family, his players, and community.

He’d been disappointed to find out Shea’s dad hadn’t even filled the rink for two years, but when he’d driven his old coach to the airport the day before, the guy had seemed genuinely excited to have J.C. open it for him this year.

“Damn straight.” Warren gave the chiller an affectionate fist bump. “And now that you’ve shown my uncle how easy it can be to get the rink going with some extra hands to help, I’ll make sure he calls in the troops next year to do this.” Looking around the field at all the activity, Warren grinned. “This is awesome. How can I help?”

Remembering Warren’s carpentry business, he pointed toward the old barn.

“I could use some handyman smarts back there. Shea’s hoping to resurrect all those old sledges for a local boy—”

“Riley Elliot.” Warren nodded, catching sight of the dark-haired boy alongside the barn door with Shea as she stood a sled next to him. “His father asked me about those sleds a few weeks ago but I forgot to mention it to Walt. Should be pretty easy to make some adjustments on them for smaller bodies. I think the main thing is to get the blades sharpened on all of them.” Warren was already heading that way when he turned to call back over his shoulder. “Shea looks just the same, doesn’t she? You’d never guess she was some globe-hopping fashionista from that getup.”

It was true enough, he supposed. She still wore the sweats and his old high school hockey sweater that she’d had on at breakfast, only now she’d layered thermals underneath in deference to the cold. With a high ponytail and a head band, she had that same outdoorsy look as her cousin.

Just a hell of a lot prettier.

Shoving away from the refrigeration unit, he swept out the large open shed that housed it along with a small set of bleachers to keep players or families out of inclement weather. The boards and brackets had all been stored in there for the winter, so the whole place needed some airing out for the season. As he worked, someone produced an outdoor speaker hooked up to holiday tunes and one of the fathers organized the boys in an impromptu football game to keep them occupied and having fun.

But for J.C., the mood didn’t feel quite as festive anymore. Maybe part of it was the reminder that Walt Walker had checked out on the hockey rink two years ago without a word to anyone as to why. What was up with that? Yet, the bigger downer was thinking about Shea’s life in New York these last ten years, her dream job driving enough of a wedge between her and her family that she hardly came home anymore.

After ten years, he would have thought her family would have been more supportive of a career she’d worked her ass off to obtain. Hell, he’d pushed her into it to the expense of his feelings for her—knowing she’d never be happy sacrificing her career for his. Especially since he wanted to play in the NHL.

“I think you’re all done sweeping, J.C.,” an amused voice echoed inside the half-empty shed.

Shea stood at the entrance, her weight on one foot and her crutches while she kept the surgery boot out of the snow. The fresh air agreed with her, putting bright color in her cheeks. As he remembered her words, he looked down at the floor and realized it was spotless by this point. He’d been lost in thought going over the same places.

Before he could speak, a snowball darted across his line of vision to hit her in the shoulder. Hard. Packed snow exploded on impact, sending her back a half foot as she hopped on her crutches to regain her balance.

Tossing the broom handle, he stormed out of the shed to give the perpetrator an ear full.

“Can’t you see she’s on crutches for crying out—” He stopped himself when he saw Warren Walker’s guilty grin.

“Sorry man. Didn’t know my aim was still so deadly.” Shea’s cousin yukked it up at his own humor as he carried a hockey sled toward his truck higher up the hill.

Shea laughed as she brushed over her coat, but J.C. wasn’t amused.

“Why the hell does he apologize to me when it’s you he nearly knocked over?”

Frowning, she readjusted the crutches and leaned against the shed doorway for support. “I’m fine. He still thinks we’re ten.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing you didn’t find him last night if that’s the kind of help he gives to someone with an injury.” He could hear the anger in his voice, knew it was probably too much and out of line, but it was too late to take it back now.

“Do I get to know why you’re acting like someone put coal in your stocking?” she asked lightly, tipping her head against the doorjamb as she studied him. “Or have you had enough of the Walker family antics for the last twenty-four hours?”

Across the rink, a cheer went up as the guys who’d been installing the boards finished the job. The two teams that had been working on it nailing their pieces together after working in opposite directions.

“Hardly.” He didn’t want her to think this had anything to do with her. “It’s not you. Something else Warren said made me think your family doesn’t really have a clue how much you’ve achieved.”

“Same as it ever was.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t come back much because it gets old trying to explain to Great Aunt Marcy why I just don’t take the cashier job at the local department store. She figures I work in retail—same difference.”

“Aunt Marcy I can forgive.” He retrieved the broom and stood it in one corner of the shed before turning off the interior lights, though he left on the ones over the rink. The sun was setting already even though it wasn’t even five. “But Warren is a smart guy. He ought to know better.”

He stepped out onto the concrete pad that led to the rink. The late afternoon sun shone gold on the snow while higher on the hill, some of the volunteers started to head home for the night.

“My family doesn’t think I have a good job and—from their perspective—I do understand why. I’m not close to all this.” She gestured to the house, the outdoor rink, and the general hubbub surrounding them. “And for as long as I stay in my line of work, they’re going to view it as me choosing work over family.”

“That’s bullshit. Your father pushed you to play collegiate hockey instead of going to New York.” He remembered how much pressure she’d been under to make decisions about her future before she’d even turned sixteen. They hadn’t been as close then, but there had been a time when Shea had been as much of a local hockey standout as him—with a promising future in the sport. “Would they have thought you weren’t a part of the family then?”

“Hockey is synonymous with the Walker name, so what do you think?” She shook her head. “Actually, forget I asked. I’m sure you don’t want to go down this conversational road any more than I do. Although, for what it’s worth, my cousin did mention to me that there is a retail store front available in the ski resort and suggested I ought to buy it, so at least he wasn’t suggesting I be a cashier.” She winked, clearly ready to move on. “Why don’t we send everyone home so we can turn the water on and go find a Christmas tree?”

The last rays of the sun caught a gleam in her eye, making him remember her promise of seduction from earlier in the day. He’d been troubled by her easy agreement to a no-strings affair this week, half-hoping she’d be interested in something more. But if this was all he could have with her, he was more than willing to take whatever she wanted to give him.

“Did I mention I have a back ache from sleeping on the couch last night?” he lied, lowering his voice even though no one else was close to them.

“You’re already working that angle?” She shook her head, sending her red ponytail in a dance across her hockey sweater, drawing his attention to the gentle swell of her breasts.

“Too obvious?” he asked, winding the end of the tail around his finger even as he resisted the urge to pull her in for a kiss.

“I’d definitely be more flattered if you said you couldn’t stand another night without me. Or that you’d been lusting over my body all day. Or—”

“Don’t.” He let go of the ponytail to cover her lips with his finger. “You’re cranking up my imagination way too much for a public place.”

“Really? I figured you were used to women throwing themselves at you. My meager patter would just be all in a day’s work for you.”

“Other women are not you.” He wanted that to be clear.

Whatever else happened at the end of this week, he needed her to know that. She was different.

Special.

“So you admit you’re besieged with offers of sex from groupies?” Her eyes widened theatrically.

“You know what? You are as bad as your cousin. I’m officially tired of Walker family antics.” He moved to the main water line and turned on the hoses that would flood the rink.

Some of the boys playing football came over to the boards to watch, the excitement on their faces obvious as they hung on the barrier, shoving each other and jostling for position while their parents packed up their shovels. Someone shut off the holiday music.

“But I haven’t even shown you how deadly
my
aim is with a snowball. I would have taken Warren’s head off if I’d decided to retaliate.” She followed him on her crutches, her gait steadier looking today.

“I’ll remember not to get in a snowball fight with you.” He shook off the dark foreboding he’d felt earlier, needing to make this time with her count.