Free Home Ice by Catherine Gayle Page B

only to myself, I met his gaze. “Try not to draw blood when you do.”
    “Is that an invitation?”
    “More like a promise of things to come.”
    He sipped and let the wine roll over his tongue for a moment before swallowing, taking his time to answer. “I like promises,” he finally said. “Maybe as much as you like kisses.”
    So apparently keeping myself from blushing was going to be next to impossible. As soon as I’d seen what Sophie had written in her letter to him, I’d known he was going to pounce all over that one. Good to see he didn’t intend to let me down on that score.
    I cut into my steak, searching my brain for any topic I could turn to in order to deflect the attention away from me, at least for long enough that I could refocus my thoughts. With Sophie on my mind, the first safe subject that came to me was Mattias’s sister.
    “So, does your sister ever come to visit you?” I asked, taking a large bite of steak so I wouldn’t have to talk too soon.
    A soft expression came into his eyes the second I mentioned his sister, but he shook his head. “Not often. Linnea lives in a group home in Stockholm, and our parents are close by. I spend as much time with her as I can when I’m home in the summers, but it never feels like enough.” He stopped there and shook his head, as if he didn’t want to go on.
    “What?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “I told you she has a boyfriend and she wants to live with him now, didn’t I?” When I nodded, he said, “His name’s Johan. He was the one who helped hold her together when her first boyfriend died about five years ago. I was here, coaching. I couldn’t be there to help out, and my parents were at a loss about how to help her understand and grieve. But Johan took Linnea under his wing. He brought a book to work one day. Adjö, herr Muffin , it was called. Good-bye, Mr. Muffin . It’s meant to help kids understand about death and grief. He took her aside on their break and read it to her, and he let her cry on his shoulder. That started a routine. Every day, he would bring some children’s book or another to read to her. They had been coworkers for a long time, and they’d been friendly before that, but they started getting a lot closer because he brought his books to read and share with her.”
    “And then he took her out for ice cream,” I said, smiling as his voice trailed off.
    “And then he took her out for ice cream,” Mattias repeated, nodding with a sheepish chuckle. “And now she wants to live with him.”
    “Sounds like he’s a good guy.” Maybe a lot like the man sitting next to me and staring at me like he never wanted to look anywhere else. My belly flipped at the unwavering look in his eyes.
    “He is. He’s a very good man.”
    “Does it ease your mind at all to know that?” I asked. “I mean, she could have fallen for someone who would have been the worst sort of influence on her, and then what?”
    “Is your mind ever going to be at ease when it comes to your girls?”
    “Good point. As boy crazy as they are…”
    “But they know a good man when they see one,” Mattias said emphatically. Like he knew them well enough to know that.
    I shook my head, my brows pinching together.
    “501’s a good man,” he explained. “Way too old for them, but he’s a good man. I think they can sense it. They’ve got good instincts when it comes to their hormonal crushes.” He reached across the table. I thought he was going for the saltshaker, but he took my hand instead, and he winked. “Like their mom.”
    My earlier belly flips couldn’t hold a candle to what was going on internally now. I was seriously melting. So were my panties. They were all, poof , gone. Just like that.
    Or they would be if we weren’t sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

 

     
     

    AFTER A DINNER filled with the most intoxicating mix of heady flirtation, banter, and soul-baring conversation, Mattias took me to a play at Portland Center