“Okay, time for some fun.” He released me and then rubbed his hands together.
Chapter Eleven
The Plexiglas rippled where the two heavily padded hockey players smashed into each other trying to gain possession of the puck. The crash sent me ducking into Cory’s shoulder, the sound of the impact bouncing across the white, scarred ice. For a moment I thought they were coming through the glass to land in our laps. I’d seen bits of hockey on TV with my dad, and had seen that very thing one time.
It was already the third period, and true to Cory’s word, it was amazing to watch. The action on the ice was mesmerizing, so much going on all at once. If I focused on the puck too long, I’d miss out on little scuffles happening all over the ice, but if I looked for the brawls, then I missed the goals—or I should say the attempts. So far there had only been a few goals, both goalies worthy of the title, but the Boise Steelheads were up by two goals.
I was so into the game, so at ease in Cory’s company, I cheered and whistled without worrying once about how I looked to him. The Steelhead’s right winger faked a goal, feinting, but then sent it off to a teammate positioned to the left and back a bit, who flicked it in, the puck sailing smoothly across the ice. I jumped to my feet with the crowd, cheering, Cory right beside me, the buzzer signaling a goal. An energetic song exploded on the speakers, the fans singing and shouting along with it.
One of the players on the opposing team, the Vegas Wranglers, rammed into the left winger who’d scored and slammed him into the wall. The body check was rough, the left winger’s head smashing into the wall, his helmet askew. One of the refs sped over, blowing his whistle sharply, a fine sheen of ice spraying up from his skates as he braked, and yanked the offending player off the fallen left winger.
The ref smashed his fist into the palm of his hand.
“What does that mean?” I knew some hand signals from my dad, but the action was so fast I hardly had time to take it all in.
“That’s the signal for boarding, shoving a player into the wall of the rink. It’s a four minute penalty.”
“Okay. Wish I’d listened better to my dad then I wouldn’t have to harass you.”
“Bring on the harassment, baby.”
I laughed and pounded Cory playfully on the chest.
The Wranglers center tramped into the penalty box, throwing his stick down, and paced around the confines of the small space. I’d heard about boarding from my dad, but never seen the hand signal. He was lucky he wasn’t getting a misconduct call and getting thrown from the game.
I felt Cory’s warm breath lightly against my ear, his finger gently tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’re incredible.”
He put his arms around my shoulders, and I wrapped mine around his broad chest, my fingers barely meeting, and squeezed him fiercely. I pressed my head into his chest and breathed deeply, his musky scent thrilling. Kissing Cory was wonderful, but it was nothing compared to this, his breath moving my hair, my ear squashed against him, the sound of his heart thudding beneath it. We sat, the game continuing, energy humming through the crowd, but I remained in Cory’s arms, too blissful to contemplate moving, even with the armrest pressed uncomfortably against my side.
The buzzer sounded shrilly, simultaneously signaling the end of the penalty period for the center and the end of the power play for the Steelheads in which they’d managed to slip the puck by the goalie’s defenses to score another point. I returned my attention to the game though not with quite as much enthusiasm as before, ready to leave and have Cory all to myself.
The game ended with the score closely matched, the Steelheads winning with a miraculous score in the last few seconds.
Cory and I waited for the stands to thin out, hands knotted together. The mechanical drone of the Zamboni weaved across the ice and dampened the sound of the animated chatter of the dispersing fans.
Cory bumped my leg with his. “So, where do you want to eat?”
“You mean you don’t have it all planned out?” I bumped him back.
“Of course I do, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
“How chivalrous. Are you even hungry after all those hot dogs during that last intermission?” I teased.
“Those were an appetizer.” Cory pulled me to my feet and we fell in behind a few stragglers, strolling hand in hand.
Night had fallen while we’d been watching the game. The twinkling stars shifted behind a few patches of wispy clouds, a slightly lighter shade of ebony. I allowed him to lead me along. “You gonna tell me what surprises you’ve got in store for me?”
He smiled, twirling me into his chest, his voice going quiet. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
I threw him a lopsided grin. “What are you up to, Cory Jacobs?”
“Like I said, you’ll see.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled me along at a jog to the Jeep, my laughter punctuating the night air, ringing out to bounce off the many vehicles in varying states of departure from the still crowded parking lot.
Back on the main road he surprised me by getting back on the interstate, heading back toward home, away from the main restaurant area of the city. Furthering my bewilderment, he got off shortly after we got on, stopping at a brightly lit park. A band played a soft folksy melody similar to a Mumford & Sons song, the twang of a banjo reaching me in the closed up Jeep.
I cocked my head and looked to him for an explanation. All I got was a smirk, and then he popped out, adding a hasty, “Wait here.”
He rummaged in the back, the sound of the tailgate closing. Unable to stop myself, I opened the door. By the side of the Jeep he twisted around, his back blocking my view of the burden in his arms, his face clouding over. “Hey, no peeking.”
“Let me help.” I craned my neck, catching a glimpse of the edge of the blanket we’d used at the game.
His expression lightened. “No, it’ll ruin the surprise. I won’t be long.”
Reluctantly, I swung my legs back into the cab. “Okay.”
His faced smoothed into a smile. Careful to keep things out of sight, he disappeared around the back of the stage. Was he going to set up … a picnic? A rush of warmth flooded my chest. And just when I thought I couldn’t possibly like him more.
He returned shortly, holding his arm out to me. I slipped my hand through the crook of his elbow and he guided me to a cluster of trees set back from the bright lights, a perfect distance away. The music played just loud enough to enjoy, yet we could carry on a conversation without yelling, the light from the stage a soft glow. Spread out under the boughs of an oak tree adorned in changing shades of yellow, orange, and green was the blanket. A cooler sat open, its contents spread across the blanket in clear Tupperware.
“Cory, it’s perfect.”
He smiled into my hair, and pressed a hand to the small of my back. “Sit down,” he whispered.
I knelt on the edge of the blanket and tucked my feet up under one hip. Cory busied himself opening containers and piling a plate with food. He placed it on my lap and settled down with a plate of his own.
I gave a strangled laugh. “There’s no way I can eat all of this.” The plate was loaded: two pieces of cold fried chicken, potato salad, a green salad, and a roll drizzled with honey. Everything looked homemade.
“I can take some back.” He held out his hand, but I tucked the plate into my chest.
“No, I’ll see what I can do.” I balanced on my knees and held up my fork.
“Alright.” Cory laughed. “Whatever you don’t eat, I’ll finish.”
“It’s a deal.”
I took a tentative bite of the potato salad, my stomach growling hungrily as it touched my tongue. I ripped off a piece of chicken and popped it in my mouth as he watched intently. I paused, another piece halfway to my mouth. “Are you going to eat?”
He shrugged his shoulders, still watching me. “How is it?”
“Really good. This whole evening has been …” I inhaled deeply, tipping my face up to the stars, “am
azing.”
He relaxed and finally dug in to his own meal with gusto, the pleased look on his handsome features making him glow. Or it could have been the twinkle lights twisted into the branches overhead. Either way, he was something to behold.
“So, do you do this for all your dates?” My tone was light, but I curled my fingers in as I waited for his response.
“Nope. Just you.”
“Oh.” I leaned toward him. “And did you make this yourself?”
“Oh, no, my mom did.”
I’d been worried. He was already too perfect. I couldn’t handle it if he cooked, too. “I love the potato salad.”
He smiled. “I’ll let her know.”
We sat in comfortable silence, finishing our meal. When I was done, he took my plate and pulled me next to him. I leaned into him, his arm circling around my shoulders.
Goose bumps prickled on my skin, the emphatic folksy-rock music winding it ways toward us through the abnormally warm fall night air. Reflexively, I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, my pulse thrumming as the chorus hit its crescendo. The mixture of the guitar chords, the banjo picking, and the sultry, soulful voice of the singer pierced my core, and I swayed to it.
“Mmm, I love music,” I murmured and shifted to rest my head on his chest, inhaling his clean, spicy scent. My muscles relaxed and I melted into him like we were meant to be like this together.
“I know.” He smoothed his hand through my hair. “That’s why I brought you. There’s always a band playing on the weekends.”
“How’d you know I love music?”
“I’ve heard your solos at the choir concerts and a couple times at church. And you’re always singing or humming to yourself.”
I knew he’d heard me sing at church, but … “You’ve been to my concerts?”
I felt him incline his head. “A few. You have an amazing voice.”
He’d been to my concerts. Why? I was about to ask, but my attention was snagged by a style change in the music, the band now playing a tune I’d heard from the radio as well, sans banjo. The lyrics were haunting.
The words stabbed at me, the powerful composition evoking swirling images of a tormented guy running clumsily through the streets, his friends chasing behind, and then he collapses in the middle of the street, broken and despairing. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I absently swiped it away, sniffing, unaware of Cory’s attention on me.
“You’re crying?” The panic in his voice made me smile.
“Sorry.” I laughed, and wiped my face with both hands. “The song just, it just struck a chord with me. Music always gets me, it comes alive. It’s … it’s hard to explain, but did you listen to the words? They were so …” I paused, searching for the right word, “poignant. The words painted a picture for me and I felt the nameless guy’s pain, his heartbreak. It was so vivid in my mind, so real.”
“So you’re not pining for some guy, an ex-boyfriend perhaps?” He said it lightly, but I caught a hint of uncertainty.
What does he have to be uncertain about? I shook my head and wrinkled my nose. “You’re the guy for me.”
But the thought of what happened last night, first with Hobbs and then Brad, surfaced. I sat back on my feet. I hadn’t asked for their attention and I definitely didn’t want it. I forced it from my mind and refocused on the guy in front of me. I wasn’t going to let the memory ruin this wonderful night.
He rested his elbows on his knees, his face set seriously and then he shook his head and chuckled. “Huh, so you like me?”
His tone was light and pleased. Tilting back, I studied his expression. His blue eyes danced in the twinkling light, a soft smile turning up the corners of his full mouth. A sudden sense of longing pulled at my stomach. I slowly reached up, pulled back a fraction and then cupped his cheek. He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand, the light stubble rubbing against my skin. My gut prickled, my fingers curling around the nape of his neck, intertwining with his silky hair.
When his lips touched mine, I pulled back, whispering breathlessly, “Yes, I like you. A lot.”
And then I pressed my lips fully to his. This kiss was like nothing I’d ever experienced, the intensity of it leaving me gasping for air, but I was unwilling to break away to get it, willing to forsake breathing for the sake of his lips against mine.
I’m not sure how, but I ended up in his lap, his hands pressing me tightly against his body. I arched into him, forgetting everything, everything but him: his lips, his scent, his touch set my skin on fire with such pleasure I felt I was going to lose myself. His hands were in my hair, sliding down to cup my face, smoothing down my back to encircle my waist.
Emboldened by his exploration of my body, I disengaged my fingers from his hair, and examined the muscled contours of his back and shoulders, the curvature of his sides, currents of electricity rocketing through my fingertips when they came into contact with the hot skin of his biceps, firm and strong. My hands on his chest, I hesitated, my breath catching as I traced the outline of his taut six-pack through his shirt, and felt him tremble.
His large hands had come to rest on my hips, one hand tugging up on the hem of my sweater. Light flashed inside my closed lids, the sensation of his touch on the sensitive skin of my stomach fueling my desire. The intensity of it was staggering, but also a stark reminder that I was on the brink of losing control. I really liked Cory, but I wasn’t ready for this.
“Stop, please.” I pushed breathlessly against his chest, and pushed his hand out from under my sweater. It was too much, too soon.
His face creased, lines etched around his eyes and mouth. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I shook my head and gasped. “It’s too fast.”
“Too fast? Sorry.” He slid me off his lap, his voice gruff. Whether it was from desire or irritation, I wasn’t sure. Maybe both.
“Please, don’t.” I knelt in front of him and took his hands. “Don’t push me away. Can we just … sit together and listen to the music for a while?”
At first he didn’t respond, but then he shifted, settling his back against the tree, and pulled me into his lap, my back against his chest. My head fitted perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. I’m not sure how long we sat there, Cory’s warmth and steady heartbeat along with the rhythm of the band lulling me. Trying to shake the sleep from my head, I stirred, Cory’s arms tightening. “Where are you going?”
“Mmmm, I need to get up.” I tried again with the same result. He wasn’t letting go. “I’m falling asleep.”
“That’s okay. I enjoyed watching you sleep. You’re so beautiful, like an angel.”
I flushed and ducked my head.
“You didn’t do anything embarrassing.”
“Yeah, falling asleep on your date isn’t embarrassing at all.”
I felt the rumble of laughter against my back. He slid a finger along my cheek, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear, and placed his lips to my temple. “Okay then, Sleeping Beauty. I guess we’d better get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”
“Wrong fairy tale there.” I stretched, covering my yawn. “And a pumpkin would be a whole lot better than what I actually turn into.”
My legs wobbled as I stood, the blood refusing to circulate, and I lost my balance. Cory caught me, supporting me with one hand. Fighting the dizziness, I bent to start cleaning up the remains of our picnic, but Cory took the plates out of my hands. “I got this.”
I bent again to pick up some trash, but he grabbed that, too. My repeated attempts met with the same, and finally I stopped. I folded my arms, feeling stupid doing nothing but waiting for him to finish.
Cory supported the cooler and blanket in one arm and slipped his free hand into mine steering us back to his Jeep. After stowing all our picnic supplies in the back except for the blanket, Cory helped me into the Jeep and settled the blanket on my lap. I tucked the blanket up around my shoulders and leaned back against the headrest while I waited for him to g
et in.
I awoke to gentle prodding. Squinting against the bright light shining in my eyes from my front porch, I shielded my eyes. And then jerked upright, blinking. I was home.
“I fell asleep again,” I cried. “Oh, Cory, I’m sooo—” but Cory cut me off.
“Why do you think I gave you the blanket? I knew you weren’t going to make it home.”
“You must think I’m a complete idiot. Or that I didn’t enjoy the night. But that couldn’t be further from the truth—”
Cory put a finger on my lips. “Shhh, I don’t think that at all.”
He helped me to my door, his hand supporting my elbow, my brain still foggy. He smoothed my hair down my back, lingering at my waist. then held me to him, kissing me tenderly, none of our earlier ardor present. I embraced him tightly, not wanting to let go, not wanting the night to come to an end.
“Thank you, Cory.” I nestled my head against his chest. “Tonight was incredible.”
“Because of you,” he said quietly, resting his chin on my hair.
I chuckled sleepily, too content to argue. I took another deep breath, trying to sear the memory of his scent, the security I felt in his arms, the magic of the night, into my subconscious.
I felt Cory look up. Grudgingly, I lifted my head, following his gaze, the curtains falling back into place. My mom, checking up on me.
“You’d better go before your mom decides I can’t take you out again.”
“Yeah, and before I turn into a monster pumpkin.”
“That, too.” A small smirk turned his lips up.
“So, even after I fell asleep, you still want to take me out again?” I looked down at my feet before looking shyly up at him through my eyelashes.
“Of course I do. And your falling asleep is one of the best things about tonight. It shows you’re comfortable around me.”
I guess it did show I was at ease around him, at least most of the time, but I still felt like a complete moron.
Honorable Disgrace Page 10
