Quick Trick (Rough Riders Hockey 1)

She didn’t even twitch a smile at his chicken-wire joke, and unease fluttered in his gut.

Sighing, she brushed her hand across the bedspread, picking at invisible fuzz while Grant stroked her forearm. “It’s about the Winter Wonderland Festival. I don’t know if you remember much about it when you were a kid, but my dad started it about forty years ago, and he’s run it ever since. Even when he was sick, he got out there…”

She trailed off and blinked back tears. Then shook her head. “Anyway, I was all set with the supplies downstairs, and then Natalie came into the store after I’d closed.”

Grant listened to Faith’s carefully worded, politically correct account of what transpired with Natalie while he’d been enjoying root beer with his brother a block away. But no one knew how to read between the lines like Grant. And he saw Natalie’s visit for exactly what it was—an attempt to wedge her way between him and Faith. A way to make Faith feel inferior. A way to bully her way into a judging position beside Grant. And his teeth were grinding by the time Faith finished the factual details.

“You don’t have any obligation to me,” she said, now tracing the pattern sewn into the solid comforter with darker thread. “We went into this knowing it was temporary. Neither of us was—I mean is—looking for anything long term. So, you know, if you want to date Natalie, that’s up to you.”

“Baby, I don’t—”

“I know it probably seems ridiculously small-town minded to you,” she said, cutting him off with a shake of her head, indicating she didn’t want to talk about his relationship—or lack thereof—with Natalie, “but this is my first Christmas without my dad, and this was his favorite h-holiday.”

Her voice cracked, and a surge of tears glistened in her eyes again.

Gran

t’s throat grew thick. His gut ached. He couldn’t stand to see her hurting.

“I know the town is dressed up for Christmas all year, but Dad truly spent all three hundred sixty-four days preparing for both the festival and the ice-carving contest. The way most kids think about Christmas morning, I think of judging that contest with my dad.”

The tears finally slipped over her lashes and slid down her cheeks. Faith sniffled and wiped at one cheek, but Grant rubbed at the other with his thumb before she could get it.

Grant bent over her, collecting her into his arms and cradling her as she cried. With nothing adequate to say, he pressed kisses to her hair instead.

“I’m just not ready to let him go yet,” she said, her voice flooded with tears.

“You don’t have to,” he said quietly, his own throat thick with emotion. “You don’t ever have to let him go, baby. You two shared more love in a year than I’ve had with either of my parents in our entire relationship. Some people just aren’t cut out to love the way you and your father could. Letting go of that, of all those amazing memories, of who you’ve become because of that love, it would be just…tragic.”

For the very first time in his entire life, Grant thought he might have the capacity to love like that too. If he connected with the right woman. And he was pretty damn sure that woman was curled in his arms.

After several long moments, her tears ebbed and her breathing eased into a normal rhythm again.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone but Taylor. And she’s so busy. Managing this place by myself…” She exhaled. “It’s been so hard. So many people don’t know how to deal with grief or death. I didn’t want to show any kind of weakness or emotion that would make them uncomfortable and keep them from coming into the store. I’m already struggling to stay open.”

Grant pulled back and looked directly into Faith’s eyes. “You can always talk to me. And I’ve found a number of ways to help you stay open. I want to talk to you about them. Later, when you’re ready.”

She nodded and worked up a smile. The movement pushed more tears from her eyes. Grant leaned in and soaked up the trail with kisses, drawing a shaky sigh from Faith that did crazy, twisty things to his heart.

When he drew away, he met her eyes again. “My turn. It’s important to me that you know everything Natalie said was bullshit. That woman lives in a fantasyland. I agreed to judge the contest because—”

“Your mother.”

“My mother—” they said at the same time.

“I know,” she said. “I figured that out thirty seconds into my conversation with Natalie.”

Grant explained his family’s end game, planning to use Natalie to draw Grant back to the family business, and the fight they’d had the night he returned home with the Christmas tree.

“The only reason I even stayed in town after that was because I’d already told Dwayne I’d work with his team. If I’d had any idea this festival or the contest was so important to you, I would have set my family straight from the very beginning. And I absolutely did not agree to do anything with Natalie. If I was forced to spend more than an hour with her, I’d be homicidal.”

That got a laugh from Faith and lightened Grant’s heart.

“You’re the only woman I want, Faith.”

This would have been the perfect moment to slip in, And I really want to continue seeing you. But given how much turmoil she currently had in her life, he was sure bringing that up now would have drastically increased his chances of losing her. And he didn’t want to give her up until he absolutely had to.

So he pulled her in and kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her for hours. She dropped her head back and opened to him. The warm touch of her tongue spread fire straight to Grant’s groin, and he groaned. Her tears made the kiss salty and real. So honest. So raw. The connection wrapped around Grant’s heart and took him under.