Over the years, I’d been involved with different charities and drives to teach kids hockey and skating basics. I enjoyed it immensely. Seeing a kid’s eyes light up when they finally got the hang of it, watching their little bodies take to the ice, fed the kid in me who remembered what it was like to find something wonderful, something I could shape and control. I’d forgotten that.

Emma’s teeth snagged her bottom lip, and she eyed me with clear hesitation. I knew that look too. She was nervous. Warmth spread through my chest, and I gave her an encouraging smile.

“We’ll take it slow—” My words cut off abruptly as Emma shot onto the ice and took off. Just flew past me, all grace and flowing beauty.

Mouth gaping, I stood stunned as she raced along, doing figure eights. For a long moment, it didn’t compute. Hadn’t she said she couldn’t skate? But there she was, gliding around like she was born to be on the ice. When she executed a jaunty camel spin, I burst out laughing. The little sneak had played me. She’d played me well and good.

I watched her move, golden hair trailing behind her like a banner, and it hit me hard, fast, and with utter completeness: I adored this woman. I was crazy for her.

I went out to meet her, keeping enough space so we wouldn’t accidentally collide. She caught sight of me and flushed, gliding up to get close. We didn’t stop but skated along with ease.

“Teach you to skate, huh?” I huffed out a light laugh.

She made a guilty face. “Technically, I said, If I couldn’t skate, would you teach me?”

“Hmm . . .” I dragged the sound out, letting her squirm just a little. Mainly because I loved teasing her. She responded so beautifully to it.

“You mad?” she asked, slightly winded.

“Do I look mad, Snoopy?”

Her nose wrinkled cutely as she peered at me. “No . . . you look . . . weirdly smug.”

Was that what she saw?

Grinning wide, I gave her a chance to skate a bit away; then I rushed her, scooping her up in my arms as she squealed in shock. Her thighs wrapped around my hips, and she clung to me. “Lucian!”

I kissed her forehead. “I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me; who’s got you?” she quipped, relaxing a bit.

“Did you just quote super-campy seventies Superman to me?” I asked, chuckling.

“You started it.” She held on a little tighter. “With your superhero body and whatnot.”

“Whatnot?” I nuzzled her cheek, kissing my way along her soft skin as I took a lazy circuit around the rink.

“Skating with me in your arms like it’s no big deal,” she grumped while tilting her head enough to let me nip the edge of her jawline.

“You’re light as a feather,” I said. She snorted, and I kissed her again. “Tell me more about this superhero-body thing, though.”

“Put me down, and I’ll show you all my favorite highlights.”

“Hold on,” I instructed, then spun her around as she laughed and screeched. I set her down by the boards but kept my arms around her. “Where’d you learn to skate like that?”

Good to her word, her hands smoothed over my chest, stroking with appreciation. “There was a rink about two blocks from my house. I’d go there after school and take classes.”

My hands found their way to the plump curve of her ass. “You have no idea how much it turns me on that you can skate.”

“I have some idea.” Her hips pressed against mine. “A pretty prominent clue there, Lucian.”

“You are so getting some when we get home, Em.”

She burst out laughing, her eyes sparking with humor. “I had no idea you were so easy.”

“Yes, you did.” I dipped my head and caught her mouth with mine, kissing her slow and deep, luxuriating in the warmth of her mouth against the relatively cold air. It swept over me that I was on the ice, enjoying myself. Happy. I was happy.

“Thank you,” I said when we parted.

Her lips were slightly swollen and softly parted. “For what?”

“Bringing me here, getting me on the ice.” I touched her cheek, brushing away an errant strand of her hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy any aspect of skating again. But this is good. Necessary.”

So was she. She had slid into my life at one of the worst possible times, and yet now that she was here, the thought of letting her go was unimaginable. Gratitude flooded me, and I rested my forehead against hers. As though she knew I was undone, she wound her arms around my waist and hugged me.

Before Emma, I didn’t put much stock in hugging lovers. I hadn’t seen the point of hugging unless it was a family member. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I craved them from Emma. The press of her smaller curves against my larger frame made me want to cradle her with care. But the way she held me tight made me feel protected. And wasn’t that a mindfuck?