Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

“Lower,” I pointed to her hand. “You can’t grip it like a golf club.”

She swung again, and I cringed as the thousand dollar stick struck the ice at the completely wrong angle. “I can’t even do this right!”

I skated over and stopped a few inches from her. “Let me help.”

“How the hell do you skate like that?” She shook her head. “I mean, I know you’re the fastest skater in the NHL or whatever, but you seriously move like those things are part of your feet.”

“Fastest skater or whatever,” I muttered with another grin as I spun her around. “Leave it to you to minimize my number one selling point.” Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I put my hands over hers to give her the right grip.

“It’s just never been what I think of when you come to mind.” She turned her head so her lips nearly grazed my cheek.

Fuck, she smelled like apple blossoms again, and the scent went straight to my dick. After living with the woman for the past six weeks, I’d hoped that her effect on me would lessen, but that wasn’t the case. I just found more things to like about her and had more chances to stare at her, which led back to finding more things I liked about her.

“Okay, then what comes to mind when you think about me?” I challenged her, working her arms through the shot.

“Well, first impression was your reflexes.” She smiled, and I swore to God, I felt my chest crack open. “Because you caught me.”

“In the hallway. I remember.” I backed away after the second shot she took, letting her find her own rhythm.

“And then I realized how smart you are. Stubborn closely followed.” She shrugged at me, but she was still smiling when she turned to fire more and more shots at the net.

“Hmmm.”

“That’s a lie…” She turned to me, wobbling for a second on her skates, but catching her balance.

“I’m not stubborn?” I fired a puck at the net, hitting the top right pocket.

She followed my shot and rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. You’re as stubborn as a mule. I mean, I recognized your reflexes first, but then I looked up at you and thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.”

My grip slackened on my stick, and I nearly dropped it.

“I still think that.”

“Figured the tattoos would have scared you off.” My fingers spread over my sternum, trying to rub away the glow that her words sparked.

“Nope.” She skated closer, running into me slightly when she couldn’t stop. I gripped her elbows to steady her, then let go. “You’ve never scared me. Infuriated me? Absolutely. Frustrated me? Daily. But I’ve always known I was safe with you.”

“You are.” The words came out embarrassingly gruff.

“I know. The artwork doesn’t hide the man you are, Cannon.” She swallowed and looked away. “Thanks for bringing me down here. You definitely worked off the anger to a manageable level.” She gave me a half-hearted, fake smile, and skated off the ice.

We’d left a mess on the ice that I’d have to clean up later, but that little stomp of frustration coming from the bench area told me Persephone was the bigger mess, so I skated her way.

I came off the ice and propped my stick in the rack next to hers. “Why don’t we scrap the dinner I brought home and eat out—hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go skate.” Her muffled voice came through her hands, where she sat on the bench, holding her head.

“Bullshit.” I dropped to my knees in front of her and lifted one of her skates into my lap. Her feet were so small compared to mine. “Start talking.” My fingers made quick work of the unlacing.

“Why?” She raised an eyebrow at me and pursed those kissable lips. “It’s not like you talk to me.”

“I’m also not the one who needs to do the talking.” I gripped her calf lightly and removed the skate.

“Because you’re such a well-balanced, open book.”

She had a point. Fuck, this was why I avoided relationships at all costs. I liked my life the way it was and didn’t want to drag out old shit by talking about it. But I didn’t mind her knowing a little more about me as long as she didn’t mind when she found something she didn’t like.

“Fine. I’ll answer one of your questions if you answer mine,” I offered as I picked up the next skate and put it in my lap.

“What was your first impression of me?” she questioned softly.

I glanced up at her, then focused on untying her skate. “That you were clumsy as hell.”

She scoffed. “Seriously? I give you beautiful, and you give me clumsy? This game sucks.”

I smiled as my fingers yanked her laces free easily. Then I did the same move with her leg, cupping her calf and taking off the skate, but this time I didn’t let her leg go when the skate hit the floor. “I couldn’t let you fall. You looked tiny and as delicate as glass, and I was afraid you’d shatter if you hit the floor. Irrational, but that was my first thought.”