Free Just In Time: An Alaskan Nights Novel by Addison Fox Page A

feet and turned to face her, his big hands on his slim hips. His six-foot-four-inch frame—honed to perfection as a professional athlete—was rather imposing as he stood there. “What? I can see you want to say something. Out with it.”
    “No, it’s nothing.”
    “Ave?”
    She hissed out a breath. For all her belief in her own poker face, he managed to call her bluff each and every time. “I just think you could be a little less judgmental.”
    “I’m not being judgmental, I’m being practical. This place is a disaster and it needs to be fixed.”
    “Then do something about it.”
    “Why me?” His hands dropped and he turned to walk farther down the bleachers, inspecting the boards as he went. She couldn’t drag her gaze off his athletic body or the way his shoulders tapered down to a firm ass that looked outrageously magnificent in shorts.
    Damn, but the man’s body was a vision. A living, breathing monument to fitness, athleticism and sheer animal magnetism.
    And just like that, the cold arena was suddenly way too hot.
    She could only assume it was frustration that had her words coming out far more clipped and harsh than she meant as she followed him down the hard metal pathway of the bleachers. “Why not you?”
    “Well why not everyone else, too?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means I shouldn’t be the only one to care about this. Or notice it needs to be fixed. Hockey’s important to this town, or at least it used to be. If we got everyone in on it we could have this place fixed up in no time.”
    “You want to do that?”
    “I don’t think there’s a choice.” He flung a hand at the room at large. “I’m not teaching the kids in this disaster zone.”
    Avery knew he spoke the truth. After Roman left town, she had a hard time coming here, but she’d found a way to keep supporting the town pastime. The last few years, though, she’d simply found it too depressing to continue.
    “Damn, how could everyone let it get like this?”
    “Because no one cares about it like you do.”
    He turned to face her again. “Maybe they should care.”
    He kneeled once more and she was curious when she saw how he twisted himself on the way down.
    “How bad does that knee hurt?”
    “It’s not my knee,” he muttered before she moved closer.
    “Are you all right?”
    His entire body stilled before he turned to face her once more. “Fine. I’m fine.”
    •   •   •
    Roman wanted to scream in frustration, the reality of his injury a roiling embarrassment in his gut. He hadn’t missed the way Avery had zeroed in on his inability to fully see the board without shifting his position. To compensate, he made a big show of examining his knee and brushing at the tender spot.
    As Roman stared at the cut on his knee—evidence of his monstrous professional problem—one question pounded in the same heavy beat as his pulse.
    How was he going to keep this from her?
    Pushing bravado into his tone, he focused on the immediate problem at hand in hopes of distracting her. “I’ll talk to Sophie about it. As mayor, she needs to understand what a liability this is for the town. More so because the town owns the rink.”
    “I hadn’t thought about that. But no one here would sue.”
    “Avery, it’s not about someone with a grudge. A kid could really hurt himself. The boards are dangerous enough as it is, but to physically go through one? It would be a disaster.”
    She nodded and he saw her acceptance. “You’re right.”
    They continued around the perimeter of the rink and he pulled out his phone to take pictures and document some of what he was seeing.
    “It’s not as fun anymore, you know.”
    “What’s not as fun?”
    “Coming here. The games. They’re not as much fun to watch anymore, since you’ve been gone.”
    “I’ve been gone over thirteen years. This town turns out good players. I have to believe there’s been a good game or two played since I left.”
    “None of