Crosscheck Page 12

Mara’s smile grew mischievous. “So if I had an office social on the ice . . .”

  He nodded once. “Susan would be toast.”

  “Love it. Can we reserve the rink now, or . . .?”

  Zane chuckled and reached out to take Mara’s hand again, not hesitating to link her fingers with his now.

  Her thumb brushed against his skin softly. “I can’t imagine anyone making your life crap, Zane.”

  He laughed once. “You need to work on your imagination, then. It’s a full-time occupation for some.”

  “But . . . they know you’ll hit them in the game.”

  “Yep.”

  “Why not just ignore them?”

  “Shutting them up is way more fun. And effective.”

  Mara snickered, then sighed, the sound automatically tightening his grip on her hand. She looked down, one of her fingers absently tracing a pattern on her leg. “Can I ask you something?”

  The hesitant question made him curious. “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you like Valentine’s Day?”

  Was that all? He smiled at her, though she wasn’t looking. “A lot of fuss, I’ve always thought. And Michelle always expected grand gestures, also known as expensive gestures, and I constantly failed. She complained I wasn’t proving my love for her when it mattered most.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “That’s what I thought too. Doesn’t love matter most when it’s not forced? The everyday stuff should have proof in it. Not one day just because everyone else is.” He shrugged a shoulder, brushing his fingers against hers. “I’d rather have a night at home in my sweats and eating a pizza, honestly.”

  Mara hummed softly. “Low-key. Comfortable. No stress. Sounds perfect.”

  Zane smiled at her. “Why’d you ask?”

  “Just curious. Hope seemed pretty certain you don’t like it.”

  “Does that bother you?” he pressed in as gentle a tone as he could manage, holding his breath. “As I recall, you said you loved it.”

  Mara met his eyes with a wide grin. “For the chocolate. It’s the best time of year for that.”

  Zane laughed, turning more fully towards her. “That’s it?”

  She tilted her head playfully. “Technically the day after Valentine’s Day is my favorite. Chocolate is on sale. I celebrate every year.”

  Unreal. She was the most interesting, natural, genuine woman he had ever met in his entire life. And he wanted more.

  “Sounds perfect,” he murmured. “Shall we go get ice cream?”

  Mara flicked a smile in his direction. “Honestly, I’m good right here.”

  “So am I.”

  Mara had never had Valentine’s Day plans in her entire life.

  Ever.

  There wasn’t really a reason for it, unless one counted the fact that she had never been in a serious relationship worth celebrating on Valentine’s Day.

  Today that would change.

  Not that she was in a relationship, technically. She wasn’t.

  Officially.

  But she’d never wanted anything more in her entire life. She wanted Zane Winchester, and she wanted him bad.

  Which was why she was doing something that could potentially blow up in her face, although she suspected it would actually win her some serious points with him.

  She hoped it would.

  Ever since her long talk in the car with Zane on Monday night, she’d been cooking this up. They’d talked for hours, and she’d felt the late night the next morning at work, but the day had been too busy in the clinic for her to care that much. That, and she’d been giddy most of the time.

  That was probably also in part due to sleep deprivation, but she was definitely into Zane as well.

  And somehow, in some way, he was into her too.

  She hadn’t quite figured that one out yet, but she’d take full advantage of it.

  If all went well tonight, she’d have a solid tally in her favor.

  He’d had a fantastic game in New York the night before, and they’d been texting each other all day, so she had a fairly good idea of where his head was at. Not that it mattered to her nerves, which were on high alert. That whole fight-or-flight response was definitely skewed to the flight part, and the only reason she wasn’t fleeing into the night was that her hormones were in charge at the moment.

  And they wanted her to floor it.

  She pulled into his neighborhood, clamping down on her lip hard, her heart tap-dancing in her throat.

  This was her staking her claim.

  He’d said he was doing that the other night, and now it was her turn. If he didn’t see this gesture for what it was, she’d have some serious waking up to help him with.

  Potentially by smacking him on the shoulder using any valentines his daughter had left over from her school party.

  Just for symbolism.

  Mara exhaled slowly as she pulled into the driveway, her eyes darting across every window just to see which lights were on. She hadn’t gotten the tour of upstairs when she’d been by before, but the lack of light there at least had her convinced Hope would be asleep.

  Which was what she’d wanted.

  A window showed lights on the main floor, and a moment of panic struck her as she considered that Josie could be staying over that night. Zane was in town, so it wasn’t likely, but she hadn’t checked on his schedule for tomorrow. If he had an early practice . . .

  She shook her head, fighting back the rising anxiety. One step at a time. She could adapt to the situation as needed, and everything would still work out.

  So long as she didn’t have to drop off the pizza and leave.

  She had specifically planned the outfit she wore and redone her hair three times just to make sure everything worked.

  Turning the key in the ignition, she exhaled a sputtering breath, eyeing the front door. It was now or never, and never just wasn’t an option.

  Mara climbed out of the car and grabbed her purse, closed her door, then walked around to the passenger side of her car and got her reinforcements. Kicking the door shut, she started up the stone path to the front door, pausing only for a moment when the motion-sensor lights kicked on and startled her. She shook her head as she forced herself to keep going, stepping up on the porch and knocking on the front door before sliding back a step.

  One of her legs bounced with barely contained energy as she waited, ears straining for the sound of footsteps within the house. Her pulse jumped when she heard it, and then she could make out, through the frosted glass of the door, the shape of an exceptionally well-built man she happened to admire very much.

  She forced a smile on her face as the door pulled open, and she found the smile easier to maintain once the sight of Zane was before her.

  Particularly when he wore such a beautiful look of surprise.

  “Mara?” He looked her up and down, smiling as he did so. “What are you doing?”

  She lifted her left leg a little off the ground. “Sweats.” Then she gestured to the rest of her. “Casual.” Hefting the pizza box in her right hand up a little, she quirked her brows. “Pizza.”

  Zane’s eyes darkened, his smile turning hot. “I see.”

  She shrugged and quirked her brows. “Sounds like it’s Valentine’s Day or something. Feel like not celebrating with me?”

  “Hell yeah.” He stepped back, gesturing her in. “Get in here.”

  Knees shaking with relief and overwhelming hormonal impulses, she did so, handing over the pizza and slipping out of her shoes. “I was going to wear slippers, but it’s still kinda raining, and I don’t have the nice ones with the good tread on them.”

  “I think I’ll survive the deprivation of your slippers.” He looked down at the pizza, then shook his head and looked at her again. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  Forcing herself to be controlled, Mara only made a face. “Don’t make something out of the anti-Valentine’s activity. No grand gestures here. That’s the rule.”

&
nbsp; “That’s true,” he murmured, though his tone sent shivers up her arms and legs. His eyes dropped to her left hand. “What’s in the bag?”

  She slung the plastic bag over her shoulder. “Ice cream.”

  “Nice!”

  “For me,” she clarified firmly. “Rules are rules. You’re on your own.” Turning on the spot, she all but marched herself into the kitchen to get a spoon for herself, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears.

  Had she really pulled that off? She had planned everything down to the words she’d say, had scripted at least seven alternatives, and at this moment, she felt like she’d just nailed a freaking highlight reel of possibilities. She exhaled slowly as she reached the kitchen island, opening a drawer to find silverware on the first try. Even more perfect.

  Now all she needed was . . .

  A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a wall of muscle. Her body melted against Zane as he tucked her shoulder under his chin, just holding her close to him, neither of them moving further.

  Heat spread from her toes on up, and she closed her eyes, letting herself feel every inch of him where they touched. His mouth suddenly pressed into her shoulder, more as a nuzzle than a kiss, but it electrified her all the same.

  “Hey,” he murmured into the fabric of her T-shirt, the movement of his lips tickling the painfully sensitive skin beneath what was suddenly a feebly thin layer.

  Mara swallowed a lump of restrained desire before replying, “Hey.”

  “Do you have any idea,” he told her softly, his mouth shifting up just enough to be clear of her shirt, “how amazing you are?”

  Mercy . . . Her legs began to quiver, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice.

  “Or how incredible you look in sweats?” he went on, his voice dipping just enough to make her bite her lip.

  Forget highlight reel. This was above and beyond imagination, and she was going to wake up tangled in her sheets panting and sweating in a minute.

  “Or,” he went on, determined to torture her into combustion, “how good you smell when you smell like pizza?”

  Her eyes sprang open at that, a laugh bubbling up.

  Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t combust.

  She rubbed one hand over the arms holding her waist and leaned to her left just enough to look at him. “You’re really trying hard for that ice cream, aren’t you?”

  His grin was blinding in its brilliance, though the same heat she’d felt from his words lingered in his eyes. “Did it work?”

  “Hmm.” She shook her head, reaching for the spoon she’d retrieved. She pried open the lid of her pint, dug in for a scoop, then fed it to him, patting his arms as she did so. “Here you go.”

  Zane groaned in apparent delight at the ice cream, winking at her. “Good stuff.” His arms slid from her waist, and he patted her hip with a familiarity that almost took out Mara’s knees again. “Wanna watch something while we eat?”

  “Sure,” she somehow managed without sounding breathless. “I was actually wondering . . .” She trailed off, wincing at the thought.

  He paused while getting plates and turned to look at her. “You gonna finish that, or am I supposed to guess?”

  She scowled, which only made him laugh. “Can we watch a hockey game?”

  He turned, plates in hands, surprise evident. “Well, sure, but why?”

  “I don’t really know the game as well as I’d like to,” she said, wrinkling her nose with her admission. “As I now have an increased appreciation for it . . .”

  He took a bow. “Thank you, thank you.”

  “I thought,” she went on, ignoring him, “why not have an expert help me understand more?”

  “Fair point.” He came to her and set the plates down, brushing a strand of hair off of her brow and leaving a scorching path against her skin. “I’d be happy to teach you. One condition.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Okay . . .”

  He gave her a slow smile. “You don’t cheer for anyone but me.”

  Okay, that was insanely cute, if a little possessive. She could live with that.

  “If I must,” she replied, reaching out to toy with the hem of his T-shirt a little. “I have a condition myself.”

  “Shoot.” His voice wobbled in its attempt to be carefree, and her confidence skyrocketed.

  She grinned and rocked up on her tiptoes. “I get you as a pillow.”

  His exhale came in a gust, and his nod seemed a little rushed. “Gotcha. Can do.”

  “Good.” She lowered herself and grabbed a plate, moving away from him to the pizza. “Who’s playing tonight, and do we care how it goes?”

  We. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t thought she’d say it, hadn’t meant anything by saying it, but now that it was said . . .

  She liked that word.

  She liked it a lot.

  If Zane noticed, he gave no indication.

  “Lucky for you, we have options.” He reached over the island for three slices of pizza, then dropped them onto his plate before heading out to the great room, waving for her to join him. “You can decide if we watch a game we care about or if we watch a throwaway.”

  Mara sighed almost silently as she followed, heart swelling within her at how comfortable this was. How fun. How real. Just two people who liked each other flirting, hanging out, and enjoying being together. It was the most low-key thing in the world, but it felt like so much more. It felt serious without the weight of something serious.

  What did that mean for them?

  “Do you have anyone you’re supposed to be paying attention to?” she asked, rounding the sectional and sitting next to him. “The next team you play or something?”

  He shook his head as he picked up a remote and started scrolling. “Trust me, I watch plenty of film on upcoming teams, I don’t need additional homework. Oh, here we go. Comets against Hawks. These are pals of mine, so let’s see who takes home the win. Then I can roast them with more accuracy.”

  “Because that’s important.”

  He dropped an arm around her shoulders with a comfortable casualness she loved, and she leaned into him in an automatic response. “Well, yeah. You don’t want to be wrong in a roast.”

  She nodded as she took a bite of pizza. “Of course not. Silly me.”

  The game on, Zane picked up his phone. “Okay, two seconds while I get this started . . .”

  Mara looked at his phone with a smile. “They’re on the ice, how can you roast them now?”

  “Not them.” He grinned at her quickly, then returned his attention to the screen. “The guys. There’s like six of us from Northbrook that have reconnected, and we’ve got this group text . . . That’s who I sent the pic from volleyball the other night to, by the way.”

  “Oh good,” she remarked dryly. “I’m sure they had great things to say when I was all sweaty and nasty.”

  Zane gave her a scolding look. “Sweaty, maybe. Comes with a hard game. Nasty? Never.” He winked and returned his attention to the phone. “And they thought you looked great. Wondered how I got within five feet of you.”

  Mara scoffed around a bite of pizza. “Uh-huh. Sure they did.”

  “See for yourself.” He held the phone out to her, text pulled up.

  She took it from him and scrolled, smiling even as her eyes widened.

  Trane: Dude . . .

  Clint: Who let you on a VB court?

  Jax: How much did you pay her to smile?

  Rocco: Five feet. You got an attractive woman to let you within five feet. How does it feel?

  Declan: Please tell me she owned you

  Trane: But seriously, Z. Where did you find her?

  Mara grinned outright at Zane’s response to them all.

  Zane: Finders keepers. If you’re lucky, you’ll meet her. Maybe.

  Various responses came up from that, but she pushed the phone back to him. “Great group.”

  “They’re all right.” Zane slid his phone
to the table with a shrug. “Hope calls them her uncles, even though she’s only known them four months.”

  “She’s so cute,” Mara told him, shaking her head. “Seriously.”

  Zane chuckled as he took a bite of pizza. “She knows it, too. Trust me.”

  “So what did you say to the group?” she asked as she propped her feet up on the coffee table, crossing her ankles. “About these guys?”

  “Heh.” Zane shook his head, drumming his fingers on her shoulder. “Just placing bets. Fido’s on a roll, and Diesel is a fortress, so it’s gonna be a great game.”

  Mara glanced at him, waiting a beat. “I have no idea what that means,” she admitted without shame.

  “Don’t worry,” he replied, tugging her closer. “I got you.”

  The next few minutes were spent pointing at the huge screen and indicating various positions, pointing out plays and illustrating penalties. Mara would admit to being intrigued by what she was learning, though she was equally distracted by snuggling up against a gorgeous, warm, incredibly virile man. If she remembered anything from the night, it would more than likely be the exact planes of the man she was curled against and how intoxicating he smelled, rather than any hockey terms or positions.

  She wouldn’t mind that so much.

  Zane seemed to appreciate her putting forth the effort, and before long, the two of them were cheering every time Fido got the puck and cheering equally as hard when Diesel stopped any shot on goal. It was strange, cheering for players and not a team, especially when the players in question were on opposite teams, but Mara found it was actually a pretty enjoyable way to spend a game.

  Eventually, though, she found herself getting sleepy, and Zane as a pillow was beyond comfortable. He never once complained about her snuggling closer, laying her head against him, or grabbing a blanket and pretty much actually turning him into her personal pillow. There was something incredibly soothing about the way he ran the edges of a few fingers up her spine, swirling them around her shoulder blade and down her arm.

  “I’m going to close my eyes for a second, okay?” she murmured, her words as fuzzy as her head as she hugged herself flush against his side. “You’re just really comfy.”

  “I aim to please,” came the rumbling reply she felt as much as she heard. His fingers trailed up her back again, pausing to fiddle with her loosening hair before tracing back down again.