referring to them? Or to his skating career? The air compressed from her lungs, but somehow she managed to squeeze out a raspy, “Yeah.”
His gaze never left her face, but his fingers moved to toy with the ends of her hair. Sliding the strands through his fingertips, a tic tightened his jaw and his lips firmed into a straight line.
Of its own accord, her palm reached up to cover his cheek, his whiskers scratchy against her skin. It wouldn’t ease the pain or regret over his past choices, but perhaps she could offer small comfort now.
“Do you think we might have a second chance?” His lashes dipped to hide his expression from her. She almost missed the naked vulnerability, the loneliness.
“A second chance at…” She held her breath, waiting, hoping he wasn’t referring to their Olympic dreams.
“Us.” His lips covered hers, gentle and tentative, soft and tender. When her hand curled around his neck and dragged him closer, he deepened the kiss and slid one arm around her waist while the other cupped her cheek.
Oh, dear God in heaven, I love this man. What will I do if he leaves again?
****
“Like this, Conner?” Annabelle’s palm displayed the tiny clump.
They’d just finished skate practice, and all the students had disappeared, quickly shuttled away to school. Conner had convinced Chaney to allow Annabelle a few minutes playing in the snow before Chaney took her to daycare.
“That’s it. Just like that, Annabelle.” Conner knelt next to the little girl, smiling at her awkward efforts as her mittened hands patted a snowball tight. More flakes fluttered to the ground than stayed on the ball.
She was so cute, all dressed up in tights and boots and a winter coat.
He stole a sideways glance at Chaney. Her arms wrapped around her waist, humor lit her face, and cloudlike white puffs came from her smile. The early morning sunbeams spotlighted her frame, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. His pulse rocketed. Cute didn’t even begin to describe her. More like angelic.
“I’m done, Conner.” Annabelle’s voice snagged his attention. That, and an impatient tap on his forearm.
“Good. Now, put it on the snow very carefully.” He waited.
The snowball plopped onto the snow and broke in half. He covered it with his hands and quickly patted it back into shape. “Great job. Next, you roll it like this.” He demonstrated, and then stepped back to allow her the pleasure of creating the bottom third of the snowman. “Keep rolling until I tell you.” He stood next to Chaney.
“You’re so good with her, Conner. Did anybody ever tell you that you’ll make a great daddy one day?” Chaney asked, her tone more statement than question.
“Can’t say that they have. You’re the first.” He grinned. “I hope to make a good husband, too.” He tried that on for size, carefully gauging her reaction.
Red crept up her neck, and she dipped her head to her chest.
His arm snaked around her back. He tugged her against his side and pressed a kiss to her beret-covered head, breathing in her spicy vanilla scent, which was becoming as familiar and alluring as the pine scent drifting in with the cool mountain breeze.
“Done, Conner.” Annabelle stretched to her full three feet and dusted off her mittens, the snowball still only palm-sized.
Grinning sideways at Chaney, his arm dropped to tug her hand into the action. “Come on, Aunt Chaney. Don’t think you can avoid getting your hands dirty. Time for some fun.”
“All right. All right. If you insist.” She chuckled, following him.
“You roll out the middle one, and I’ll make the bottom. Then we’ll be ready to put this all together.”
“Bossy, aren’t we?” She picked up a wad of snow, a mischievous glint in her eyes,
“Coming from the woman who arm twisted me into helping her students prepare for their skate recital. Hmmm.” He narrowed his brows, but couldn’t stop the grin from sliding across his face.
“Arm twisted?”
His gaze never left her face, but his fingers moved to toy with the ends of her hair. Sliding the strands through his fingertips, a tic tightened his jaw and his lips firmed into a straight line.
Of its own accord, her palm reached up to cover his cheek, his whiskers scratchy against her skin. It wouldn’t ease the pain or regret over his past choices, but perhaps she could offer small comfort now.
“Do you think we might have a second chance?” His lashes dipped to hide his expression from her. She almost missed the naked vulnerability, the loneliness.
“A second chance at…” She held her breath, waiting, hoping he wasn’t referring to their Olympic dreams.
“Us.” His lips covered hers, gentle and tentative, soft and tender. When her hand curled around his neck and dragged him closer, he deepened the kiss and slid one arm around her waist while the other cupped her cheek.
Oh, dear God in heaven, I love this man. What will I do if he leaves again?
****
“Like this, Conner?” Annabelle’s palm displayed the tiny clump.
They’d just finished skate practice, and all the students had disappeared, quickly shuttled away to school. Conner had convinced Chaney to allow Annabelle a few minutes playing in the snow before Chaney took her to daycare.
“That’s it. Just like that, Annabelle.” Conner knelt next to the little girl, smiling at her awkward efforts as her mittened hands patted a snowball tight. More flakes fluttered to the ground than stayed on the ball.
She was so cute, all dressed up in tights and boots and a winter coat.
He stole a sideways glance at Chaney. Her arms wrapped around her waist, humor lit her face, and cloudlike white puffs came from her smile. The early morning sunbeams spotlighted her frame, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. His pulse rocketed. Cute didn’t even begin to describe her. More like angelic.
“I’m done, Conner.” Annabelle’s voice snagged his attention. That, and an impatient tap on his forearm.
“Good. Now, put it on the snow very carefully.” He waited.
The snowball plopped onto the snow and broke in half. He covered it with his hands and quickly patted it back into shape. “Great job. Next, you roll it like this.” He demonstrated, and then stepped back to allow her the pleasure of creating the bottom third of the snowman. “Keep rolling until I tell you.” He stood next to Chaney.
“You’re so good with her, Conner. Did anybody ever tell you that you’ll make a great daddy one day?” Chaney asked, her tone more statement than question.
“Can’t say that they have. You’re the first.” He grinned. “I hope to make a good husband, too.” He tried that on for size, carefully gauging her reaction.
Red crept up her neck, and she dipped her head to her chest.
His arm snaked around her back. He tugged her against his side and pressed a kiss to her beret-covered head, breathing in her spicy vanilla scent, which was becoming as familiar and alluring as the pine scent drifting in with the cool mountain breeze.
“Done, Conner.” Annabelle stretched to her full three feet and dusted off her mittens, the snowball still only palm-sized.
Grinning sideways at Chaney, his arm dropped to tug her hand into the action. “Come on, Aunt Chaney. Don’t think you can avoid getting your hands dirty. Time for some fun.”
“All right. All right. If you insist.” She chuckled, following him.
“You roll out the middle one, and I’ll make the bottom. Then we’ll be ready to put this all together.”
“Bossy, aren’t we?” She picked up a wad of snow, a mischievous glint in her eyes,
“Coming from the woman who arm twisted me into helping her students prepare for their skate recital. Hmmm.” He narrowed his brows, but couldn’t stop the grin from sliding across his face.
“Arm twisted?”
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