Be My Valentine, Baby
Page 10
“Babe!” She probably couldn’t even hear him.
Ditching his skates, because she’d been right in her assumption that he was a crap skater, Patrick trudged out onto the ice in his snow boots. How much more fun would they be having cozied up to the lodge’s fire, sipping on those green beers?
Out here the air smelled different—not as heavily laced with pungent pine, but cleaner. Crisp. The warm weather raised the faint fishy smell that reminded him of summer.
“Where are your skates?” She rapidly approached. With her cheeks flushed and smile bright, she could have been a schoolgirl. Her womanly curves told a different story.
“I admit it. I can’t skate for crap.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
“Because I know you love it. I figured I should at least try.”
“Great! Go put on your skates. I’ll teach you some easy moves.” She twirled away.
“I’m only getting into skates if you come closer.”
She waved.
Lips pressed tight, he was once again trudging her direction. This time, he needed to make it clear that she was putting herself in unnecessary danger by skating on untested ice. Nearer shore, the water was only a few feet deep. By this time in the season, it was frozen solid. He could tell just from the feel that it was good.
She performed another spiral followed by a jump, but she landed sideways and her left skate skid at an angle that was painful to watch. She crashed, then slid a good ten feet from where she’d touched down.
“You okay?” He tried jogging, but the ice was too slick. He switched to a shuffle. “Babe?”
“I’m fine,” she called with a wave before getting back on her feet. “Rookie mistake. My old coach would have made me do a hundred crunches after practice.”
“You competed?”
“Made it all the way to junior nationals, but I didn’t come close to ranking and boys seemed way more fun than five a.m. practice.”
“Boys, huh?” He didn’t want to hear about her being with any guy other than him—even if it had been a decade earlier.
Slipping into a playful Irish brogue, she asked, “Are ye daft? Ye dinna think ye were my only bonny lad?”
“I’d better be…” When she glided a few inches from his reach, he lunged for her, but ended up falling face-first with a solid thump against the ice.
“Are you okay?” She toe-picked to a stop alongside him, crouching to offer him her hand. “That was a nasty fall.”
“Tell me about it.” He groaned, rolling onto his back.
“I’m sorry I laughed, but you have to admit—oh!” He caught her off-balance, tugging her onto his chest.
“I’m admitting nothing…” With his hand splayed against the back of her head, he drew her in for a kiss. Her breath warmed his lips and smelled minty from the shamrock shake they’d split for lunch. Angling his head for a better fit, he coaxed her lips into parting just enough for him to invite her tongue to dance. Lord, she tasted amazing. So sweet. The fact that he needed her so much when logically he should be slowing things down wasn’t good. Kissing her, however, was very good. Which was why he kept kissing her until she pulled away. “No. Come back…”
“I will, but did you hear that?”
“My frustration? Yes. We should head to my place ASAP.”
“Patrick, I’m serious. Listen…”
At first, all he heard was a faint breeze whispering high in the pines, but then there was a muted crack, as if glass were splintering. Then it dawned on him…
“We’ve got to get back to shore.”
“Why?”
“It’s the ice. That sound is the ice cracking.”
“But it’s been so cold.”
“Doesn’t matter. Get up nice and slow…” His heart pounded. If something happened to Steph—nope. He wasn’t going there. “It’s probably just settling, but let’s not stick around to find out.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to get me off the ice and to the lodge for green beer?”
Instead of stopping, the cracking noise grew louder, echoing through the ice like an audible web.
Worry knit Stephie’s brows.
He froze. “Nice and slow, get up, then go ahead of me…”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll be right behind. I just think it’s best if we spread out our weight.”
“Did you just call me fat?” From back up on her skates, she glanced over her shoulder with a half-smile.
“Babe, I’m not kidding. We need to haul ass or—”
Too late.
With a creaking, groaning shudder, the ice beneath them shattered, plunging Stephie then Patrick into deadly-cold black water.
Dear Reader—
Thank you so very much for spending time with Tanner and Jenny!
Just when I thought Brody and Lilianna’s story was the most emotional I’d tackled in a while, I started this one and it wouldn’t let go. I struggled for a while with the ending, but in our modern world with more blended families than ever, I liked how both men put aside their anger for the sake of the baby girl they love.
This was also a special book for me because it features my first VIP contest winner! I believe angels had a hand in Ginger’s entry being drawn. A contest requirement was that entries needed to name Jenny’s baby, select the sex, and tell me why. What Ginger wrote brought me to tears:
“I would like the arrival of a baby girl and her name is Mckynley Claire for Jenny and Tanner. That’s the name of my first granddaughter who was actually stillborn. Mckynley Claire would have been 4 this past November.”
Sobbing, right?! Well, Ginger, your sweet Mckynley will forever live in Kodiak Gorge. Thank you for entering my contest and sharing your memory of this precious baby girl.
If you’d like a chance at winning a one-of-a-kind VIP prize, sign up for my newsletter at http://www.lauramariealtom.com/. There’s a new prize each month!
Happy Reading!
xoxo
P.S. I’D LOVE YOU MORE THAN I ALREADY DO IF YOU’D LEAVE A SIMPLE, ONE-LINE REVIEW ON THE SITE WHERE YOU PURCHASED THIS BOOK. MWUAH! ☺
SEAL Team: Holiday Heroes
Book One: Christmas Cookie Baby
Book Two: Happy New Year, Baby
Book Three: Be My Valentine, Baby
Book Four: St. Patrick’s Baby
SEAL Team: Disavowed
Book One: Rogue
Book Two: Outcast
Book Three: Shunned
Book Four: Exiled
Book Five: Renegade
Book Six: Forsaken
Book Seven: Scorned
About the Author
Laura Marie Altom is the author of over sixty novels. Her award-winning work has appeared on numerous bestseller lists and worldwide, she has over a million books in print. Laura lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband of thirty years. This former teacher has been blessed with boy/girl twins and a menagerie of dogs and cats. For fun, Laura’s content to garden, thrift-shop or curl up with a great book.
Laura loves hearing from readers, and can be reached at the following social media outlets:
E-mail balipalm@aol.com
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Copyright © February 2018 by Laura Marie Altom
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
All characters and incidents within this book are fiction, and works of the author’s imagination.
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