Candy for Christmas: Hockey Player vs Ice Skater (6 page)

“Huh?” The abrupt
change threw her.

“Last night I was
distracted.” They were both silent a moment remembering that
distraction. “But I’m fucking pissed, Candy. What if I hadn’t been
here?”

She was silent.

“You do know how to
check the ice, don’t you?”

Of course she knew how
to check ice, for fucks sake.

“Well?” he prompted
when she didn’t respond.

Then again, he did
have to haul her out. “Look at the colour. Check for cracks and how
they’re shaped.”

“What did the weather
do this week?”

“We had snowfall,” she
admitted reluctantly. Snow acted as an insulator, allowing the ice
to warm up and get thinner.

“There was no snow on
the pond when I got home yesterday.”

“I cleared it that
morning.” She paused. “But, it was on there for a couple of
days.”

“Fucking hell,” Nolan
cursed. “You know better, goddamit. What if I hadn’t been here?” he
asked again, hands clenching on her shoulders. He abruptly released
her.

Candy stared after
Nolan as he walked back towards the lights he’d been untangling.
Then he turned around as if he couldn’t contain his next words any
longer. “Stay off the fucking ice unless I’m home.”

She gaped, then picked
up a corn of cob and flung it at him.

He snatched it out of
the air. “So you’re a thrower. Guess I can expect more of this
during our continued association?”

She left that alone.
Instead, she said, “I’ll stay off the ice if you stay off it.”

“I’ve owned this house
for a decade and have never fallen through. When you can say the
same, you can skate without me.”

“I was angry today and
did something stupid. I learned my lesson. It won’t happen
again.”

He just folded his
arms across his chest.

“You can’t expect me
to just wait until you’re home. You’re hardly ever here,
Nolan.”

“That’s going to
change.”

“What does that
mean?”

“Exactly what it
sounded like.”

“I don’t understand.
Why?”

“Because things are
different now. They changed last night.”

She’d been unsure
whether he wanted what had happened to go beyond this interlude.
“So… you…” She cleared her throat. “You and me… This is a
thing?”

“Yeah. It’s a
thing.”

She nodded, but her
lips twisted. “You go away a lot. You’re a hockey player. There are
girls…”

“There aren’t any
girls.”

She looked into his
hickory gaze.

“Not since you moved
next door.”

Suddenly she wasn’t
angry anymore. The question of ice time was not closed, but she
decided to table it. “I’m guessing, for a guy like you, that’s a
while to go without.”

Nolan shrugged.

She couldn’t decide
whether she hated or adored that habit and had an uneasy feeling
this would be far from the last time she had that thought. “It’s
been a while for me too.”

“I could tell.”

She wrapped her arm
around her waist. “I guess I was out of practice.”

He jerked as if he was
going to come to her, but stopped himself. “No, I just meant…you
were tight. If was fucking hot.”

“I… I have to…
dinner,” she gestured behind her in the direction of the bench.

Nolan nodded, but his
gaze was still on her as if all he needed was the slightest
provocation and he’d pounce. She was very tempted to give it to
him, but she was feeling a little off balance. She needed a minute
to regroup.

While she finished
preparing dinner, Nolan finished the lights. He came over to help
just as she slid the roasting pan in the oven. “You timed that
deliberately,” she said.

He turned her gently,
careful of her ankle. Then he leaned down to nuzzle the space under
her ear. “Timing is important,” he whispered, then picked her up.
“For example, it’s time right now…” he carried her into the living
room then, to her utter surprise, tossed her on the sofa, “…to
decorate the tree.”

She burst out laughing
but couldn’t entirely ignore the need he’d spiked. Together they
sat on the couch and opened the boxes of ornaments. Inspected the
coloured baubles she’d bought.

“So I guess you’re not
one of these two-tone decorators,” he said, looking at the
cornucopia of colour.

“That would be boring.
Take all the fun out of it.”

Nolan nodded as he
grabbed the sheepskin rug and moved it under the tree. Candy looked
at him curiously. He simply picked her up and transferred her onto
it.

“I can walk, you
know.”

“You could. And I
could always get you a different shirt.”

Her hands clutched the
jersey, which she was still naked under, as though he was about to
strip it off her and take it away. No, she didn’t want that. She
really didn’t want that. “Point taken.”

“Here’s how we’re
going to do this. You’ve got the bottom half and you can tell me
where to put things on the top half.”

She glanced up at him
from under her lashes. “I like your plan.” Swallowed. “I have only
one suggestion.”

He looked down at her
and she looked down at her lap. Shrugged one shoulder. “You could
take off your shirt. I mean, I’m only half dressed, so it’s only
fair.”

A slow smile stretched
along his lips and he crossed his arms at his waist and pulled the
flannel shirt off in a single, smooth motion. Then he dropped it on
her head. Candy giggled, then pulled it down her face to peep over
the edge. She leaned back on one hand and let the shirt fall in her
lap.

“I have to say,
Ducayne,” she sighed, “that is sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking
seen.” She surveyed him, in low slung jeans, wide, strong shoulders
tapering to slim hips. An eight-pack that made her fingertips itch.
She had not spent enough time touching him last night, that was for
damn sure.

Nolan looked down at
her, clad only in his jersey, long slim legs splayed out in front
of her, hair a tousled mess. “Backatcha, Sweetheart.”

They stared at each
other, tension mounting, until Nolan stepped back and shook his
head. “The tree.”

That phrase echoed a
lot in the next few hours. As it darkened outside, they strung the
lights, then the tinsel. Hung the Christmas baubles and gingerbread
trees. Candy covered the lower branches and the sight of her on her
knees, so close to him, almost drove Nolan to his.

They paused to have
dinner. Nolan couldn’t remember when anything had ever tasted so
good. They picnicked on the sheepskin as they contemplated their
progress and talked about skating and hockey.

“I’m not a forward. I
don’t act like one.”

“But aren’t you an
offensive defenseman, as opposed to a stay-at-home?”

“Yeah, but not at the
expense of my end zone or team. Only when the best defence is
offense.”

They talked about
anything that came to mind.

“Candy is a stripper
name. No-one gets to call me that.”

“I call you that.”

“Yes, well,” she
looked away, “I’ve made an exception in your case.” She missed
seeing his satisfied smile. “But not in public. I don’t want other
people thinking they can use it.”

“If I’m gonna call you
Candy, it’ll be when it strikes me as right, no matter where we
are. But I promise you this: no one else ever will. Not more than
once.”

She looked at him
enquiringly.

“I like being the only
one allowed to call you that.”

She blushed.

After dinner Nolan
concentrated on placing the decorations where Candy wanted them. He
hung little crystal snowflakes, shiny blue and red and silver and
green balls. Little gold bells and pinecones. Christmas crackers,
white doves and prancing reindeer. Finally, they stood back to
survey their handiwork.

“Perfect,” she
pronounced quietly.

“Lights now?”

Candy nodded.

Nolan walked over and
turned out all the lights so that the room was lit only by
firelight, then flicked the switch to the tree’s lights. Candy’s
breath caught in her throat. Nolan came to stand beside her.
Slipped her hand in his and tugged her into his arms, both of them
facing the tree. Candy twined their finger together and they were
silent a long time.

Then her gaze
travelled up the pretty tree, a beacon in the dark. “I didn’t get a
tree topper.” The words left her on a low breath.

“What?”

“An ornament for the
top of the tree. A centrepiece. You know, like a star.”

Nolan cleared his
throat. “I may have something we can use.” He turned her in his
arms and kissed her gently on the lips. “Wait here.”

When Nolan left the
room Candy slipped into the kitchen to put the cherry pie in the
oven. She was back by the tree when Nolan returned.

“Here.” He handed her
a small box that was wrapped in pretty silver and white paper and
tied with gold ribbons. It was a clearly a Christmas present.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

The paper was so
pretty that she wanted to save it. She opened it carefully and
slipped out a deep blue velvet box. It was large and flat. Candy
slowly opened the lid and her breath caught. Nestle in white satin
was a crystal snowflake. The intricate detail and facets reflected
the flames and the twinkling fairy lights.

“
Nolan…
”

“I, ah, saw it in New
York. Thought you might like it.”

“You bought this for
me? When we were still at war?”

He shrugged.

That decided it. She
loved those shrugs.

“Neighbours give
gifts, right?” he said.

“What did you give the
person who lived in my house before me?”

“Nothing?” His tone
was tentative.

“Are you asking or
saying?”

“Nothing.” Firmer this
time.

“But you bought me
this.” She carefully picked it up out of the box. At first she
thought it was a pendant, but then she saw the comb on the back and
realised that it was a hair ornament.

“Do you like it?”
Nolan’s voice was bland but he was awfully still.

“It’s more beautiful
than fresh ice.”

He exhaled and a grin
crept across his face.

“It the perfect topper
for our tree. How will we secure it?”

It took some
creativity but they found some pliable wire Nolan had with his
tools in the garage. Nolan wrapped it around the snowflake.

“Be careful. I don’t
want it to fall.”

Nolan looked at her
intently. “Neither do I.”

When he was done he
handed it to her and said, “Hold it tight.” Then his hands spanned
her waist and he lifted her up. Candy gasped at the unexpected
action but gathered herself quickly. She tried to hurry, worried —
needlessly — about how long Nolan could hold her suspended in his
arms, but at the same time she was careful. She didn’t want the
crystal comb to fall. And that’s when she realised what Nolan had
meant. The instant he’d given her this snowflake she’d felt
enchanted and ridiculously possessive. It would wreck her if it
broke, the same way he would be if she broke. Only worse.

She took extra care in
securing it and was finally satisfied that it was safe. “You can
put me down.”

Nolan stepped back
then slid her slowly along his body, wrapping his arms around her
waist when her feet touched the floor. He tugged her back a few
paces then rested his chin on her head. They looked at the
snowflake, glowing softly with reflected light.

Candy’s fingertips
found Nolan’s forearm. Wrapped around his wrist. Measured his
heartbeat. “I won’t jump any more. Not until my ankle is
ready.”

His arms tightened
momentarily before she felt him consciously loosen his grip. She
turned to look up at him. “Pity we haven’t got any mistletoe,” she
murmured.

“Who the fuck needs
mistletoe?” he mumbled against her lips.

They kissed for long
minutes. Christmas could have come and gone and neither one of them
would have noticed. Finally, Nolan broke away with an oath. “Come
to bed.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her.

Candy dug her heels
in, but the socks he’d lent her after dinner slid across the
hardwood floor. “Wait.”

Nolan paused.

Candy tugged her wrist
free and slowly backed away from him towards the tree. “Don’t you
want your Christmas present?”

Nolan’s eyes
narrowed.

“I didn’t get you a
pretty crystal snowflake, but I’m fairly certain you’ll like this.”
She smoothed a palm down the jersey. “Be careful with the wrapping
though, I want to keep it.”

In two strides she was
in his arms again and his lips were claiming hers. Candy moaned
into his mouth as one hand slid down his taut abdominals. “I’ve
wanted to do this for hours,” she murmured, laving her way across
his broad chest. Her other hand continued its path down and slipped
inside the waistband of his jeans. She wrapped her fingers around
his hard cock. “Swear to god, you could use this thing as your
hockey stick,” she mumbled. “Show me some stick work.”

Nolan made a sound
halfway between a moan and a groan. “For fucks sake, Candy. Don’t
say shit like that. Especially not around the guys when you meet
them.”

“Please. Like they
haven’t seen
that
in the locker room.” Her grip tightened
around him. “I’ve always wondered, do guys in locker rooms sneak
peeks at each other’s equipment. Do Rangers in locker rooms?”

“Don’t be thinking
about Rangers in locker rooms.”

“I’m thinking about
one Ranger in the locker room.” Candy bit her lip. “I think about
him quite a lot. In fact, do you think you could get me Henrik
Lundqvist’s number? I’d like to talk to him about his hockey
st—”

Her words were cut off
when Nolan nipped her lip, then tilted her head back for a deeper
kiss. Candy sighed into his mouth. Her clever fingers unzipped his
fly then she pulled his hard length out of the opening and sank to
her knees. Nolan hadn’t expected the move and his fingers dug into
her hair, pulling it tightly against her scalp. His cock, as though
it had a will of its own, bobbed towards her cherry pink lips.