Chapter Fourteen

Gabby

Village Pond

IT LOOKED LIKE Christmas all over again. The trees edging the pond were strung with blinking white lights and bright tunes were coming from speakers hidden beneath the sweeping branches of several pines. Kids were running up the pond’s sloping banks and sliding down and out onto the ice.

As Mike turned off the car, Gabby opened her door. “Wow!” she said. “That’s what it’s like to have a car door that doesn’t threaten to fall off every time you use it.”

“You could get a new car.”

“Then what would I complain about?”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I am?”

He smiled. “You complain less than anyone I know.”

“Then you don’t know many people.”

“Right now, I’m only interested in getting to know you.” He tilted her toward him, then cursed under his breath as his seatbelt caught.

She laughed. “Smooth, Dr. Archer. Really smooth.”

“I’m just keeping your expectations low for when I’m out on the ice.”

With another chuckle, she leaned across the gearshift and gave him a quick kiss.

“That’s supposed to keep me warm?” he asked with mock dismay as he unlatched his belt and opened his door.

“All good things come to those who wait.”

He groaned as he reached in to get his ice skates. “Then I’m going to have to be willing to wait for a very long time, because your kisses are really good.”

“We could figure time served.” She got out of the car and picked up the skates that Mr. Shepard had found up in the attic. She’d been shocked that he had ones in both her size and Mike’s until he revealed the large box of skates—both ice and roller—that his kids and now his grandkids had used over the years.

Her boots sank into the snow. There’d been more this year than in years past. She smiled as she watched the people already skating in a big oval on the pond.

“Let’s see,” Mike said, as he came around the front of the car, “I moved in two years ago, and you were already there, so that’s two years already.”

Gabby smiled as he continued to tease her while they walked toward where a pair of firemen were collecting the tickets. Dressed in a ski jacket and jeans that clung to his strong legs and nice butt, Mike was catching the eyes of the women they passed. Hers, too. With his hair blowing back in the chilly breeze and a garish scarf that she guessed had come out of another box in Mr. Shepard’s attic, he was an enticing sight.

She waved to people she recognized from when they visited Swan View, but she kept glancing back at Mike. Had it really been two years since he’d moved in across the hall? No wonder, Mr. Shepard had become frustrated with the lack of progress with his matchmaking. She smiled. Instead a baby had arrived out of the blue to do what the old man hadn’t been able to.

“Better hold on,” Mike warned, taking her gloved hand after giving the firemen their tickets. “The hill is pretty steep. I’d like to think I won’t fall down until I get on the ice.”

“A good plan.” She slanted toward him as they edged down the hill. When his arm brushed her breast, it was as if her coat and the sweater beneath, as well as the shirt beneath that and her bra, had vanished. The heat that burst through her was as powerful as if he’d touched her skin.

He paused, his gaze holding hers, and she knew she was wrong. Nothing would be more potent than his fingers on her bare body. A single touch, and she suspected she’d be ready to surrender to his seduction. Maybe she’d known that all along, which was why she’d avoided him for the past two years.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was a lie. She was feeling much better than okay.

“You know we’ve got to have a good time tonight.” He started down the hill again. When he reached a log on the shore, he released her hand and pulled his skates from over his shoulder. He sat and grinned up at her. “Mr. Shepard said it was an order. Go out and let him baby-sit, or he’d evict us.”

She laughed. “He can’t do that.”

“Of course not, but you know he likes the grand gesture.”

Sitting beside where he was already lacing up his skates, she said, “I don’t remember the last time I went ice-skating.”

“Am I going to have to pick you up all the time?”

“We’ll see.” She pulled off one boot and stuck her toes into a skate. Shivering, she added, “I’d also forgotten how cold a skate can be when you first put it on.”

“Okay, maybe I was wrong. You do a good job of whining.”

With a laugh, she scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at him. “Probably because you give me a good reason to do so.”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for the cold.” He squatted in front of her as she drew off her other boot and pulled on the skate. Pushing aside her fingers, he quickly laced up the skate. “But you can blame me for this.”

He tossed snow into her face. She sputtered and shoved against his chest. He toppled backwards and slid down the rest of the hill and onto the ice. Sitting up, he shook snow out of his hair while the kids nearby pointed and laughed.

When Mike got to his feet, he made a face at the kids—who looked to be nine or ten—and growled. They giggled more loudly. Pulling a snowboarding hat out of his pocket, he stuck it on his head and shouted, “Bet you can’t catch me!” He skated off just fast enough so that he stayed out of the kids’ reach. They squealed as they chased him around the center of the ice.

Gabby carefully stepped out onto the pond. She took a couple of practice strokes, then unlaced her left skate and redid it more tightly. She drew off her heavy coat and put it on her boots by the log. Pushing off again, she skated out into the middle as she heard a familiar song. The steps and spins she’d practiced for hours after watching the Winter Olympics came back to her. She’d never mastered doing more than the simplest jumps, and she wondered if she’d break her neck—or at least her dignity—if she tried one tonight. As she went through the program she’d created for herself, she felt as if she were as young as the kids playing with Mike. Her body recalled what she’d practiced through a half dozen winters. When she came to the first jump, she didn’t hesitate.

She was flying and spinning at the same time. Just for the length of a pair of rapid heartbeats, but she was flying. How could she have allowed herself to forget, amid the hubbub of daily life, how much she loved to skate?

The song came to an end as she finished her last spin. Lowering her hands from over her head, she heard applause. Heat slapped her face as she realized how many people had stopped to watch her skate. She’d been so lost in her joy that she hadn’t noticed.

Mike skated toward her, followed by the kids who’d been chasing him. “Later, guys,” he said with a motion of his head.

As the kids skated away, joining hands to play “Snap the Whip” and send one of them sliding across the ice, Gabby put her hand in the one Mike held out.

“That was amazing!” he said as he drew her into the pattern of the skaters going around the pond. “I didn’t know you could do something like that.”

“I didn’t know if I still could do it.” She laughed. “I’ll probably pay for it tomorrow with stiff muscles, but it felt good tonight.”

“How long did you take lessons?”

“Never. I just kept repeating over and over the steps and spins and jumps that I’d seen on TV. It was something I could do that required all my attention and kept me from thinking about other things.”

Sympathy deepened his voice. “Was your childhood so bad?”

“It wasn’t bad. More sad because I wished I had parents like other kids did.” She hesitated, wishing the conversation hadn’t taken this turn. Yet now that he’d asked, she needed to give him an answer. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I wasn’t much older than Carol. I was in the car with them, but apparently I escaped without a scratch.”

“I’m sorry, Gabby.”

“It’s so long ago, and I’m just glad that my two sisters and my brother weren’t with us. They were teenagers by then, so they’d been busy with something else that night.”

“You said you were the youngest. I didn’t realize how much younger.”

Her smile returned. “They called me the surprise baby because my mother thought she was in menopause when she was actually pregnant. I guess both she and my father were very surprised. And now I’ve got a surprise baby of my own.” She edged to the side of the pond. “Do you think we should give Mr. Shepard a call to see how things are going?”

“He’s got your cell number and mine. If anything goes wrong, he’ll call. He promised.” He tweaked her nose. “Stop being nervous. He’s got more experience with kids than anyone else we know.”

“I’m trying.”

“Ain’t that the truth? You are trying.”

With a faked scowl, she gave him a shove across the ice. He spun around several times, fighting for his footing. He regained it just in time for the kids to skate past him and snap the boy on the end right into him. They fell to the ice together as several parents shouted to the kids to be more careful. Mike and the boy laughed.

As the evening went on, Gabby found herself laughing more than she had in months. The firemen had arranged for skill games, and she and Mike entered them. They were beat every time, but it really didn’t matter who won.

“How about some hot chocolate instead?” Mike asked when a wheelbarrow race was announced.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, again slipping her hand into his.

The concession was set up just off the pond. Gabby took a cup and held it up to savor the rich aroma of the hot chocolate. The steam stroked her face as the scent filled her breath.

“You’re supposed to drink it, not inhale it.” Mike tilted back his cup and took a cautious sip. “Be careful. It’s really hot.”

“That’s why they call it hot chocolate.” She drew in another breath of the chocolate. “Chocolate is like fine wine. It needs to be a pleasure for all the senses.”

Sitting on the log again, they sipped while they watched the games continue. Mike cheered for the kids who’d chased him as if they’d been friends for years. Several of them came over to show him the trinkets they’d won.

Gabby watched quietly. Mike was going to be a great father. He clearly enjoyed kids, and they liked being around him. He didn’t talk down to them. When he asked them questions, he listened to their answers. He could get them giggling with a few words or a silly face, and she wasn’t surprised when amid the high fives, a couple of the younger children gave him a bear hug.

She didn’t say anything. Telling him that she admired how he handled kids might suggest she was interested in him applying for the job of becoming Carol’s father. She wasn’t... was she? She shouldn’t even be thinking about such things. This was their first real date, and there were so many things she didn’t know about him.

“Good bunch of kids,” he said as the youngsters skated away to play another game.

“I bet their parents appreciate your entertaining them.”

“Gabby, I didn’t mean to be paying more attention to them than to you.”

She patted his arm. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m having a wonderful time here with you.”

“Me, too. Wonderful time with you, I mean.”

“Why are you acting like a nervous kid on his first date all of a sudden?”

Even though she’d expected him to laugh and come back with a teasing comment, he remained serious. “Probably because I feel like a nervous kid on his first date with a girl he’s been too scared to ask out.”

“Scared of me?”

“No, scared of us.”

She stood and carried her empty cup over to the trash can. Dropping it in, she tried to regain her composure. She hadn’t expected him to say something like that.

His hands settled on her shoulders, slowly stroking down to her elbows. Cupping them, he leaned her back against his chest. He whispered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? If it’s the truth...”

“It is.”

Facing him, she said, “Mike, I need for us to take this slow. Really slow. Until we know what Sam’s going to tell us—”

“I agree one hundred percent.” He gave her a cockeyed grin. “And you won’t get a scientist to say that often. We always want to reserve a bit of that percentage... just in case.”

Gabby was going to reply, but the hot chocolate vendor shouted, “Last call.” The lights began to flicker out. She was shocked. She hadn’t guessed the three hour skating party was almost over.

“Where did the time go?” Mike asked as if she’d spoken aloud.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“And I’ve been having fun.”

“Me, too.” She went back to the log and sat down to unlace her skates. “Let’s do this again.”

“Skating?” He sat next to her.

“Letting Mr. Shepard baby-sit while we go out.”

“Are you asking me out, Miss D’Angelo?”

“I guess I am.”

“And I guess I’ll accept.” He shoved his feet into his boots and picked up her coat. Standing, he waited for her to pull on her boots and get up. He held up her coat for her to put on.

She’d only gotten her arms partway through the sleeves before he spun her to face him. “Be careful!” she gasped. “My hands are twisted in my coat.”

His eyes twinkled roguishly. “Something to keep in mind for when we get back to the house. Keeping you all wrapped up like this is very sexy. I could do just about anything with you, and you’re powerless to halt me.” He pressed his mouth against hers. When she quivered, he murmured, “Anything that would give you sweet delight.”

“I thought we were going to take it slow,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

“Very slow.” His hands inched down her sides and inside her unzipped coat. Slipping up under her sweater, he stroked her back. The rough knit of his gloves burnished her skin with a heat that made her forget the cold, the other skaters, everything but the desire in his eyes. “Very slow and then slowly faster and faster.”

She shoved her arms the rest of the way through her sleeves. “I like how you think.”

“When you’re ready to think that way, too, let me know.”

“I will.” As she climbed the hill with him, she wondered if he could guess that she’d lied. She’d already been thinking of that slow dance of passion with him, but she didn’t want to make any decisions until they knew the truth about Carol and how the baby had appeared in their lives.

Then... She didn’t know what would happen then.