Page 14 of Back On Ice

“You’re too good for this world, Sophie Hartwell.” Gladys sighs, tucking the receipt into purse. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me pay you this year? Or I could set you up with my grandson?” She arches a brow at me and I stifle a chuckle.

“Not a chance on the payment, Gladys. You’ve been a loyal customer of the flower shop for years, it’s the least I can do. I’ll let you know on the grandson, though.” I wink conspiratorially at her, and she tuts out of the shop, a self satisfied smile on her face.

A while later, after Kerry and I have each taken a thirty minute lunch break, I’m handing Mrs. Donahue her once-a-yearorder of a massive bouquet of red orchids, which she’ll bring to her husband’s grave.

“Thank you, Sophie, dear.” She smiles kindly at me, her wrinkles deepening at the expression. “What do I owe you?” She asks this question every year, even though the answer is the same.

“It’s taken care of, Mrs. Donahue. Give Mr. Donahue our best.” Same as every year on her and her late husband’s anniversary, she takes me in a frail hug, pressing a pink-lipstick kiss to my cheek.

“You’re a good girl, Sophie.” My heart breaks a little at the words, imagining how much she must hurt every day that my small action once a year fills her with such gratitude. She shuffles out of the store, on her way to the cemetery. Mr. and Mrs. Donahue were together for sixty years before he passed away from a stroke six years ago. I can’t imagine having to live without someone I was with for that many years.

Carter had been in my life for twelve years, and I was absolutely devastated when things ended. And it wasn’t even like he died or anything.

Enough of that, Sophie. No thinking about Carter.

He doesn’t deserve to take up even an inch of space in my mind. My brain is officially a “cheating, arrogant, rec center ruining, asshole free” zone.

Three o’clock hits, and I call back to Kerry, “I gotta go pick up the boys for hockey practice!”

She comes up from the back of the shop, rolling her eyes at me. “Any chance you cankeepTheo while you’re at it?” I laugh at the jab at her younger brother, who has a particular talent for driving her crazy. She tells me she loved having a baby brother when he was born, since she was ten, and it was like having a live baby doll, but his pre-teen days are kicking in hard now and shecould do without the attitude. “I’ll be fine by myself for the last hour until closing. You have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Kerry. Thank you.”

I still need to find a new supplier for succulents since our last place increased their prices, and the delivery schedule for next week needs to be finalized, but I can take care of that later.

It’s time for the best part of my week: Hockey practice.

Chapter Seven

SOPHIE

Forty-five minutes later,the boys and I get to the rink. I throw my Ivy Glen Twin Rinks zip-up hoodie over my shoulder and follow my three charges into the rec center. I’m supposed to coach my team in less than a half hour, so there is just enough time to sit and relax for a few minutes beforehand.

I enter the rink, ready to have fifteen minutes to clear my head before coaching my rowdy team of fifteen teenage girls. All plans of relaxation die when I see Carter standing next to the rink, talking to Benson.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I jammed a finger into Carter William’s chest and yelled at him for hijacking the project to save the rec center.

In my head, I had this grand speech for the next time we’d see each other, condemning him for how he left me behind after he promised me forever. I’d demand an answer from him; Why did he leave me behind? He’d have to face nine years of pent-up anger and hurt.

But I thought I’d have at least a few more days before seeing him again. As much as I want answers, I’m not mentally prepared to face them yet. Before I can backtrack and hightail it out of there, Benson calls over to me, “Sophie! Just the girl I wanted to see.”

Making way over to them, I realize with how Carter is looking right now, I probably wouldn’t have been able to air my grievances, anyway.

Because. Hot. Damn.

It is absolutely criminal how hot he is. His black hair is messily styled in a way that is just begging my fingers to run through it. His black shirt under his flannel is tight across his muscles, and he’s wearing these dark wash jeans that I’m sure do wonderful things for his ass. And I don’t miss the way his piercing blue eyes move up my body.

My cheeks flush and it takes all my self control to not smack myself across the face. Instead, I hastily zip up my sweatshirt, acting as if it’s Carter-proof armor. I hate that after all these years, he still has this effect on me.

“What’s up, Benson?” I ask, ignoring the way Carter’s eyes darken at my flushed cheeks.

“Sophie, I was just talking to Carter here about his plans for the rink, and I would like it if you two worked together on the PR and rebuild. I don’t want a single thing done without your consent.”

Work… together?

No, no, no. That’s the absolute last thing I need to be doing with Carter right now.

Nuh uh. No way.

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