“Maybe not, but you’ve come a hell of a long way. And I think you have the opportunity to do something special with your jersey designs. It couldn’t hurt to have a little extra money coming in, either. We both know LA will burn to the ground before you take a dime from Tate or me or even Joe.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“Only because it means you’ll be on the other side of the country without being able to come see us.”
That was a strange thing to hear coming from the man who’d ignored her for a year. But it was also a trap she didn’t want to step in here or now, so she changed the subject. “You always were better at figure skating than Tate. Don’t tell him I said that. He’s always thought he was better.”
Rafe’s laugh made Mia smile. “What else is new?”
He released one of her hands, and as he pulled her forward, he turned, sliding her beneath his arm until she was wedged beside him, holding her close. All her thoughts evaporated in the feel of Rafe next to her, their steps syncing in a smooth front crossover glide. He was warm and solid and strong. He felt so right. She didn’t know how she could have missed him so much in one day, but having him close again now felt so good, it was almost painful.
He tipped his head down and murmured in her ear, “I still think about my diligent teacher every time I step on the ice.”
“Bullshit.” Mia laughed. “When you’re shooting onto the ice from that bench, the only thing on your mind is score, score, score.”
“In games, maybe,” he said, “but the rest of the time, it’s you.”
With a mother who worked all the time, an absent father, and a brother whose life revolved around hockey, Mia had a lot of time on her hands as a kid in rural Colorado. She’d taught herself to figure skate, then taught both Tate and Rafe. It had started off as a dare and continued as a challenge. But when they’d realized how much the figure skating drills helped fine-tune their footwork for hockey, they’d both continued the practice, and both continued to skate with Mia over the years.
And Rafe’s confession felt like knuckles rapping on her heart. But she was beginning to wonder which parts of what he said were truth and which were created to get the response he wanted. She didn’t think he purposely lied to her, but she did believe the seduction aspect of his psyche responded automatically to a woman he wanted much the way his body responded to muscle memory on the ice.
“I did a lot of thinking while I lay awake, wishing you were beside me.” Rafe’s low voice at her temple created a shiver over her neck and shoulders. “And I think it would be good for you to come to Los Angeles with us.”
She huffed a laugh. “Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yeah, I do. You’ll be here alone while we’re gone and when we get back, we’ll only have a couple of days left until you leave again. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before you’re gone.”
“Enjoy your family while you have them close.” Her new boss’s words mixed with Rafe’s and threw her emotions into another tailspin.
Before she could say anything, Rafe murmured, “Incoming” and released her in a graceful turn. When she focused forward again, she saw Tate and Joe approaching.
Joe’s face beamed with a grin. “You two look amazing together.”
Tate didn’t seem near as pleased, judging by the annoyed look he shot between them.
“I’m pretty rusty,” Rafe said, easing away from her.
“Hey,” Tate said to Rafe, “Dad’s going to be in California to watch the Cup.”
Rafe grinned at Joe. “Awesome.”
“You should come, Mia,” Joe said. “Then the whole family can be together.”
Before she could decline, Rafe said, “I was just telling her the same thing. And I think she should bring her jersey designs. Don’t you think John Silver would be interested?”
“What?” She frowned at Rafe, confused.
“The Ducks’ owner,” Joe said with a tug to his brow before his face brightened. “Hey, good thinking.”
“What about him?” Tate asked.
Mia wanted to ask the same question. Rafe had played for the Ducks before he became a free agent and signed with the Rough Riders, but he still had a good relationship with the Ducks owner, Silver.
“He’s a really innovative guy,” Joe told Mia and Tate. “Makes more off merchandising than any other team in the NHL. What a fantastic idea, Rafe.”
She was—still—about to decline when Rafe turned one of those looks on her, one with a whole lot of heat simmering in the background. “Then you could watch the first two games of the playoffs, and in between we’d have time to drive around LA, check out your apartment, the hood where you’re going to be living. You could even go to that company party you were just telling me about and meet some of your coworkers.”
Whoa. Who was this man? Could a true change of heart come so fast?