Page 57 of Cross Check Christmas
Back in the cottage, I stoke the fire while Colette wraps herself in a fresh blanket, settling onto the couch. The flames cast a warm glow across her face, highlighting the flush in her cheeks that isn't entirely from the cold.
She won't quite meet my eyes. "Maybe we got a little carried away out there."
My heart sinks, but I get it. She just shared something deeply personal with me, and the last thing I want is for her to think I took advantage of that vulnerability.
"Hey." I sit beside her. "That kiss wasn't because of what you told me. I mean, I'm honored you trusted me with that story, but..." I run a hand through my snow-dampened hair. "I've wanted to kiss you since you stormed into the ice rink that first day. The way you told me off in front of all those kids… I didn't stand a chance."
She pulls the blanket tighter around herself, but I catch the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"You like it when I tell you off, eh?"
I reach over to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "Immensely."
I lean in to kiss her again, unable to resist the pull between us. Her lips are warmer now, and she melts against me with a soft sigh that makes my heart race. My fingers thread through her hair as the kiss deepens, and for a moment I forget everything else—the contract negotiations, the bet with Tucker, the storm… the cat.
But then she pulls back, pressing her forehead against mine. Her breathing is uneven. "Hendrix, I... this is..."
"Too fast?" I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
She nods, not meeting my eyes. "It's just... we're stuck here, and there's only one bedroom, and I don't want you to think..."
"Hey." I tilt her chin up gently. "I wasn't expecting anything. Well, maybe a few more kisses." I wink, making her laugh. "But nothing more than you're comfortable with."
Relief floods her features. "Thank you."
"You should take the bedroom." I stand and start gathering blankets from the storage chest by the fireplace. "I'll crash down here on the couch."
"Are you sure? I don't want to keep you from a proper bed."
I arrange the blankets into a passable nest. "Please. I've slept on buses and airport floors during away games. This is practically the Ritz in comparison."
She hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, watching me settle onto the couch. "Goodnight, Hendrix."
"Night, Colette."
She tilts her head. "Hendrix?"
""Yes?"
"You haven't called me Shakespeare or Professor in… well, I don't know how long."
"Disappointed?" I wag my brows. "If you want to role play, you can just ask."
"Aaand he's back." She makes a lopsided grin heads upstairs.
The house creaks as Colette moves around upstairs, each footstep a gentle reminder that she's here, just a floor away. I stretch out on the couch, pulling the blankets up to my chin, but sleep feels impossible. My lips still tingle from our kiss in the snow, and I can't stop replaying it in my mind, smiling like an idiot at the ceiling.
But reality crashes in, making my smile fade. I've been such an idiot about this whole thing. That stupid bet with Tucker seems ridiculous now. First thing tomorrow, I'm calling it off. This thing with Colette – whatever it is – it's real.
The sound of running water filters down from above, and I smile, imagining her going through her nighttime routine. Probably has it all scheduled down to the minute, knowing her.
My mind drifts to the hockey team – those kids are starting to grow on me. They deserve a coach who's fully committed, even if it's just temporary. Maybe I can set up some kind of mentoring program with the Titans, get the guys to visit more often. The look on those kids' faces when Owen and the others showed up... that's the kind of thing that could change their whole outlook on the sport.
But eventually, I'll have to go back. The thought of leaving Brookking – leaving Colette – makes my chest tight. The Titans are my team, my family. But if Malcolm trades me... I could end up anywhere. Vancouver. Florida. California. The distance from Toronto to Brookking already feels too far.
I roll onto my side, watching the dying embers in the fireplace. Whatever happens with hockey, I want to see where this thing with Colette goes. It's new and fragile, but it feels more real than anything I've had before.
I want more moments like this. More snowball fights and shared secrets and kisses in the moonlight. More of her sharp wit and fierce determination and the way her eyes light up when she laughs.
