Free Last Chance Christmas by Joanne Rock Page A

clear.
    Whatever else happened at the end of this week, he needed her to know that. She was different.
    Special.
    “So you admit you’re besieged with offers of sex from groupies?” Her eyes widened theatrically.
    “You know what? You are as bad as your cousin. I’m officially tired of Walker family antics.” He moved to the main water line and turned on the hoses that would flood the rink.
    Some of the boys playing football came over to the boards to watch, the excitement on their faces obvious as they hung on the barrier, shoving each other and jostling for position while their parents packed up their shovels. Someone shut off the holiday music.
    “But I haven’t even shown you how deadly my aim is with a snowball. I would have taken Warren’s head off if I’d decided to retaliate.” She followed him on her crutches, her gait steadier looking today.
    “I’ll remember not to get in a snowball fight with you.” He shook off the dark foreboding he’d felt earlier, needing to make this time with her count.
    Maybe what bothered him the most was that he’d be coming back to Cloud Spin in a few years when he retired from hockey, but Shea wouldn’t. Her life would always be in a big city, somewhere she could use the talents her family didn’t understand or appreciate. And no matter how much she fit in here, her stays would always be brief.
    “Then I suggest you get on the same page with me when it comes to your taste in Christmas trees. I’m not settling for anything less than fourteen feet, and I’ll go to the mat for it if I have to.”
    He didn’t bother asking how she’d decorate it while she was on crutches. She’d probably hop up the ladder on one foot.
    “On second thought, maybe a snowball fight wouldn’t be all bad.” He took a spot on the boards to admire how much work they’d gotten done today. They only needed a few centimeters of ice to start playing. He could build the layers each night and it would be strongest that way anyhow.
    “That sounds like a dare.” She rested her elbows on the wooden, waist-high support.
    “If we get covered in snow, I’d have a good excuse to show you the outdoor hot tub on my back porch.” He glanced down at her foot. “Your stitches are healed. You can get that wet, can’t you?”
    “Hot tub?” Her eyes wandered all over him like she was already imagining it.
    Just the way he was.
    “Yes ma’am.” He could already picture her skin glistening in the moonlight while steam drifted all around her.
    “You pro athletes sure do spoil yourselves, don’t you?”
    “With my career ticking down to the final years, I’m going to wring every bit of fun I can out of it.” He knew as soon as he said it that it was the wrong direction to take this conversation.
    He could see it in her expression. The way her lips pressed into a thin line.
    “It’s tough for me to applaud that approach.” Her gaze moved to the empty home where she’d been raised, the windows dark. “Just remember it might be hard to tell when you’re not having fun anymore if you’re floating from one concussion to the next.”
    Shea had seen the lifetime toll the sport had taken on her family, from lost salary and lost potential endorsement earnings to her father’s chronic headaches, her uncle’s bouts with depression, and fears about what the future held for health problems.
    Hell, that all concerned him, too, as he nursed his fourth career concussion. But he loved playing more than he worried.
    He wanted to tell her he knew what he was doing. That the league was more careful with its players now. But by the time he firmed up his approach in his head, she was halfway up the hill, a dark, wobbly shadow on her crutches as she navigated the icy bank.
    Even as he ran to give her a hand, it occurred to him he’d be too late. Shea Walker was stubborn, determined, and decisive. And she wasn’t the kind of woman to give a man a second chance.

Chapter Seven
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    C hristmas shopping on