Page 20 of Can't Take Moore

“Do you ever wear them still?”

She slanted me a knowing look. “No, but don’t worry. I have a feeling you’ll like my speed skating suit better. It’s skintight and leaves very little to the imagination.”

“Nice.” I wagged my brows.

She shook her head. “When I made the switch over to speed skating, my dad was thrilled. Except for the uniform. He used to grumble about me throwing something over my suit whenever I wasn’t on the ice.”

“Used to?” I asked, finally realizing that all her mentions of her dad were in the past tense.

Her shoulders slumped as she nodded. “Yeah, he passed away unexpectedly two months ago. A brain aneurysm.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I murmured, inching closer to wrap my arm around her shoulders.

“Thanks.” She sniffled into her ice cream. “Losing him was hard, but at least he was there when I was on the podium getting my gold medal. One of the biggest things he wished he had been able to do in his life was play in the Olympics. He said seeing me skate in them was even better.”

I was relieved she was able to find comfort in sharing that special moment with him before he did. But I was also a little worried I’d fall hard for her only to find out that she’d decide not to stay in Mooreville because her life had been under a major upheaval when she decided to move here.

7

Vienna

After my spur-of-the-moment second date with Dean, I was disappointed to learn that his calendar was full for the next couple of days. He still called Friday and Saturday night and sent texts to check in, though.

I’d never dated anyone as attentive as Dean was. He didn’t follow the dating rules I’d never understood, where guys waited forever to text so they didn't seem too eager. He’d made it more than clear how interested he was in me, which was why he was the first person I thought to call when the knob came off the shower in my guest bathroom while I was turning on the shower.

Drenched from head to toe from the water that had spewed from the faucet, I tossed some towels on the floor and raced down the hallway and into the master suite to grab my phone. It was only eight thirty on Sunday morning, but he answered after the first ring. “Good morning, princess.”

Butterflies swirled in my stomach at the nickname said in a raspy tone that made me wonder if he was still in bed. And what he wore when he went to sleep. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to fully appreciate the possibility.

“Help! I decided to use the shower in the guest bathroom for the first time and the knob came off.”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised.

I wasn’t sure where he lived or how long it would take him to get here, so I raced downstairs to crack the front door open before grabbing all of the towels in the linen closet to soak up as much of the water as I could. When he arrived about ten minutes later, the tub was overflowing and the towels on the floor were soaking wet.

“Vienna?”

“Up here,” I called back.

His footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I turned when I heard him coming down the hallway. His eyes widened when he saw the mess surrounding me. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a disaster. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“Of course.” He nudged me out of the way and kicked off his shoes before stepping in the shower, looking at me over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You can go get cleaned up if you want.”

I took him up on the offer, hopping in the shower in the bathroom in the master suite for a quick rinse off before changing into dry clothes. When I stepped back into the hallway, Dean was coming out of the guest bathroom.

My mouth went sandpaper-dry and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I’d spent plenty of time around hard-bodied athletes in peak physical condition. Not one of them could hold a candle to how good Dean looked with his dress shirt soaking wet and plastered to his chest. So hot that I didn’t even mind that my fantasy of him being naked in bed when I called him hadn’t turned out to be true.

I took a full beat to appreciate how drop-dead sexy he looked. The way the wet cloth clung to his lean, sculpted chest. Warmth bloomed in my cheeks…and low in my core.

“Take your shirt off.” The words came out in an awkward, fumbling rush, and my cheeks flamed hotter when he raised his eyebrows at me. Then his mouth curled up at the corners in a delicious grin, and his brown eyes twinkled with mischief. Just that look from him gave me a hot flash. Jittery energy pulsed through my body, leaving me feeling exactly the same way I always do pre-race. “I can toss it in the dryer for you.”

Dean’s grin widened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners with genuine amusement. “And here I was, hoping that you telling me to strip out of my shirt meant that you’d like to see what’s underneath it.” His voice was smooth and sultry, and the teasing invitation was so quick-witted that I couldn’t help giggling in response.

“Believe me, I do. It’s just…I wasn’t really sure we were there yet, or if you wanted us to be there…” Dying inside, I choked on my own awkwardness. I cleared my throat, feeling compelled to explain myself. “I’ve always been so slammed with training, practicing, and competitions. Like I mentioned before, juggling everything it takes to compete at the Olympic level is time-consuming. I haven’t really dated much in the past. I’m not exactly what you’d call experienced in this department.”

The whole time I was scrambling to explain myself, Dean was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, never taking his eyes off me. I couldn’t help staring, my gaze following each deft movement as his fingers traveled from button to button, slowly revealing more and more of his tanned chest. When he undid the last one, shrugged the shirt down those broad shoulders of his, and peeled the wet material off, I could barely form a coherent thought at all.

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