Holiday Crush Valentine Edition
Book 3.5
This short story features Court and Ivan from my holiday story, Holiday Crush. I’d like to dedicate it to my readers! Thank you for your support.
Whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not, you believe in love and that’s more than enough.
xoxo,
Happy reading!
Lane and George
Chapter 1
Ivan
“How do you feel about Valentine’s Day?”
Court dropped the box he’d schlepped from the back room onto the coffee shop counter, comically widening his eyes as he turned to face me. “That’s a trick question, isn’t it?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “No, it’s not. I swear. I’m just curious. Most men I know don’t love it.”
“’Cause it’s too much pressure. It feels like a test and the answers are super subjective and hazy.”
“So you don’t like it,” I stated, slitting the box open and unearthing the limited edition heart-embossed to-go cups. “Oh, my God, these are fab!”
Court picked up a cup and twisted it slowly, nodding in agreement. An obvious avoidance technique if ever there was one. Poor guy looked nervous…with good reason.
I took pity on him, intending to let him off the hook and assure him it wasn’t a big deal to me. Last year was an epic fail, so maybe it was best to boycott February fourteenth this year.
“I liked Valentine’s Day when we were kids,” he said before I had a chance to offer him an out. “I chose my favorite Transformer or Star Wars cards and passed out the best ones to my friends along with the heart-shaped sugar cookies Mom made for the bakery.”
“Mmm, she still bakes them and they’re delish.”
“Right? I was a fucking Valentine star in grade school.” He wrinkled his nose as he set the cup aside. “But I’ve never been good at it when it matters and I still feel bad about last year. And the year before. You gotta admit, I do come through on the fifteenth.”
I barked a laugh and rolled my eyes. “Guilt flowers for the win.”
“And chocolate. Don’t forget the chocolate.” Court slipped his arm around my waist and buried his nose in my neck. “Hey, I love you, Ive. I love you to the moon and back. I just suck at Hallmark holidays.”
“Thankfully you’re good at sucking other things. Let’s skip Valentine’s Day this year. No pressure, no stress…just a naked date in bed. What do you say?” I rubbed my smooth jaw against his beard and bit his bottom lip as I tilted my hips suggestively.
He smacked my ass playfully. “Down, boy. Mrs. Yaeger is lurking outside the shop talking to my dad. No boners, please.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’ll put this stuff away so we can head home. Did you remember to turn the Crockpot on?”
“Yeah, the house smells amazing,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “I stopped at the market for sour cream too. Can’t have chili without sour cream”
“Ooh! You’re the best! Give me ten minutes and—” I stopped abruptly, noting his knit brow and the faraway look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but…we’re not skipping Valentine’s Day, Ive. In fact, I’m gonna blow it away.”
I smiled, charmed by his boyish exuberance. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Yeah, it is and this one is gonna be amazing. I don’t know how, but I’ve got a month to figure it so…be prepared for a Valentine-palooza that will knock your socks off and make you forget my short-comings last year. And the year before. I’m gonna reclaim my title and be a Valentine star again. Boom!”
I chuckled when Court pumped his fist in the air.
Right.
So about last year…
Chapter 2
Court
Look, romance wasn’t my thing. I was one of those guys who might have the occasional deep thought but struggled with translating it into meaningful words or actions. The more I cared, the harder it was for me to convey my feelings. That changed to a degree with Ivan.
Everything I felt about him was right there, bubbling to the surface for anyone to see. I didn’t bother trying to hide it. Trust me, it wasn’t possible.
I loved him so much it was kind of gross. All he had to do was walk into a room and I got all gooey inside. I smiled when his name lit up my cell or when someone mentioned they’d seen him at the coffee shop or around town. Geez, even the sound of his laughter did things to my pulse and the easy way he talked to people and somehow made it seem as if he was invested in their life stories…I don’t know, it touched me. This man had no idea how freaking special he was to everyone.
But to me, Ivan was my world.
And after two and a half years together, I still couldn’t believe my luck. Ivan was mine.
Yeah, he knew I loved him. I told him all the damn time and I never held back. I woke up in the morning, rubbed sleep from my eyes and said, “Mornin’, I love you.” I nudged him with a light hip check and said it around a mouthful of toothpaste. I said it on our walk to Rise and Grind and texted it a couple of times during the day, and again when I picked him up after work.
Add some sexy time and good night kisses and let’s just say that if “I love yous” came with tequila shots, you’d all be comatose before three p.m.
Here’s the thing…unless my dick was involved, I was better at telling than showing. Big gestures to prove my undying love and lust that didn’t involve bedroom antics were a whopping fail for me.
So yeah, Valentine’s Day was a rough one for me.
I’ll give you an example…
Two years ago, Ivan and I were a newish couple which meant the pressure to deliver felt extra high. I’d been nervous for sure, but I had a decent plan in place. I was going to make him a homemade dinner. From scratch…by myself.
I’d asked my mom for her lemon chicken recipe and took her suggestion to serve it with roasted potatoes and carrots. I’d left the rink that day and went to the market before heading home to get started on dinner so it would be ready when Ivan got home from work. Then I’d peeled potatoes and carrots till my fingers hurt, chopped them, and tossed them in olive oil, salt and pepper, and slid them in the oven with the chicken.
No problem, right?
Except…I’d clogged the kitchen sink with potato peels and when I tried to use the garbage disposal, it regurgitated the peels and spewed water like a geyser. No shit.
Ivan fucking loved his red and white kitchen, and yeah, since I’d recently moved in, this was mine too, but I understood boyfriend etiquette. He would not enjoy coming home to the kitchen edition of an Exorcist moment.
I’d did the responsible thing and called a plumber. But this is Elmwood we’re talking about, so of course, I happened to know the plumber. Ivan and I had gone to school with Ricky Meyers, the biggest big mouth at Elmwood Elementary. That meant this mini catastrophe was going to get out.
Even if I begged Ricky to keep quiet, he’d accidentally spill the beans over beers at Black Horse Inn that he’d paid a Hallmark holiday house call for the hockey coach who’d blown up his boyfriend’s sink. It would definitely get back to Ivan. That was a given.
Fine, but…not today, Satan.
“Ricky, I need your word that this stays between us,” I’d said, fixing with a serious look as I’d handed over payment for his service and a brand-new fucking garbage disposal.
“Mums the word.” He’d pointed upward and winked. “You might want to get the potato skins from the ceiling too, Court.”
“Shit. Thanks.”
“No problem, man. Oh, and…something’s burning.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Right on cue, the fire alarm screeched as smoke billowed out of the stove. Holy shit! It was mayhem.
Ricky stayed to help me open windows—not ideal on a snowy day, but necessary. Once he’d left, I’d stared at our charred dinner. Sure, they’d looked like hockey pucks, but they could be salvaged. I’d hoped.
I’d pulled out two plates and started scraping. It wasn’t pretty. And the clock ticked away, reminding me that at any second, Ivan would walk in to black charred shavings on white counters, potato peels hanging from the ceiling, the fire alarm pulled from its station on the wall, and snow falling in through the open window, and—
“Happy Valen—oh, my…” Ivan had dropped his bag on the kitchen table and covered his mouth in horror. “What happened here?”
“I…made dinner?”
“Oh, honey.” He’d turned in a slow circle. “Wow.”
“It didn’t go according to plan, but…the good news is I got you a new garbage disposal for Valentine’s Day and if I order pizza right now, dinner will be ready by the time I finish cleaning.”
He’d nodded mutely. “Okay.”
“Hey, I love you and I’m sorry.”
Ivan had sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “I know. I love you too.”
I’d pulled him into my arms and sealed my mouth over his.
And that was when the first potato peel had dropped.
So yeah, not a great first Valentine’s Day together.
The next one was even worse.
Chapter 3
Ivan
I would prefer to think of last Valentine’s Day as just another day in February. Better yet, I’d like to erase it from my memory altogether.
It was a bad day.
A really bad day.
First of all, I hadn’t been feeling well for a week. Nothing overly serious—headache, stuffy nose, and basic exhaustion. Not too surprising. The holidays had been particularly busy and while January was slower behind the scenes, it was inventory slash tax prep season for Rise and Grind.
Court and I owned three locations and a handful of Elmwood Bake and Grind kiosks now, for which I was super proud and grateful. However, it meant quadruple the work for yours truly. Don’t get me wrong, Court was more than happy to lend a hand, but that was kind of impossible during hockey season. He was only available in the mornings or later in the evening. But mornings were busy for me and after a long day, we were both exhausted and we just wanted to be together.
We had managers we trusted to help out in Elmwood and Fallbrook, but at this time last year, our Pinecrest location had been our high-maintenance store. Between the diva-esque clientele and the entitled teenage twerps I’d reluctantly hired to pour coffee for their fellow Pinecrustians, I was stressed out of my mind. Not a great a state to be in when you’re under the weather too.
I willed my low-grade fever not to turn into anything major, but I also wished for a winning lottery ticket. As you can probably guess, neither had gone my way.
And this is where I sprinkle fairy dust and take us back in time to my least favorite day of last year.
Ready?
It started at two a.m. with a sneeze attack so brutal it brought tears to my eyes. Court stirred in bed beside me and patted my shoulder.
“You okay, baby?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, slithering out of bed. “I’m going to get some tissues. Go back to sleep.”
He mumbled something, rolled over and was snoring before I reached the door.
I took an antihistamine, opened a fresh box of tissues, and decided to be a nice boyfriend and sleep in the guest room. The juniors had played an away game last night and Court hadn’t gotten home until I was already in bed, which meant we hadn’t had a real conversation or spent any real time together in almost two days.
Honestly, I felt too crappy to be bummed about it, but because I was a contrary asshole, I stored it in the back of my mind to stew on later…you know, so I could feel extra crappy.
I tossed and turned for two hours before giving up on sleep. Then I showered in the bathroom down the hall and tiptoed into our room to gather my clothes. I doubted Court would have noticed if I’d stomped in, flipped on the lights, and hummed a tune. He was out for the count. I dressed as quietly as possible anyway, and headed downstairs.
And yes, in spite of the fact I felt like ten miles of bad road, I remembered it was Valentine’s Day. The cute candy heart flag I’d asked Court to hang a week ago was still in its packaging on the counter, serving an extra reminder…in case it slipped my mind.
Oh, well. We might as well save it for next year, I mused, scribbling a note with a heart and our initials next to the coffee machine.
I love you. xo
Then I grabbed my keys and drove to freaking Pinecrest to open the coffee shop because the manager had requested the day off a week ago, claiming he couldn’t find anyone to cover for him. I couldn’t do it in my current state and I knew it, so I’d called in the biggest favor in the world last night and begged Stacy to meet me there, in exchange for a babysitting card she could cash in any time, day or night.
“I would give you a hug, but you look contagious.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, sneezing three times in a row.
“Oh, honey. You shouldn’t be here at all, Ive. Go home and go back to bed,” she chided, tying on one of the red aprons I’d purchased for the hearts and flowers holiday.
“You don’t know how to work the new equipment and I need to finish inventory. I’ll stay in the storage room, out of the way. I won’t so much as breathe in your direction. I don’t want my godbabies to get sick. Although…I suspect I got this cold from Sam.”
Stacy’s two-year-old son had been a snotty-nose mess on our recent sledding expedition at the park. Kids had weird habits of wiping grungy paws on unsuspecting citizens’ clothing and sneezing in their coffee. Yes, that happened and…ew.
Stacy winced. “I know. I’m so sorry. Dave didn’t bat an eyelash when I told him you needed me. We were all sniffly a week ago, and he feels bad about passing along germs.”
“No worries. I’ll be fine. I just—ah choo!—need to finish up…” I hiked my thumb and skirted the marble countertop.
She started to wave me off, but pointed up at the paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. “I love this touch. Is it me or are they lower than usual?”
I sighed and sneezed again. “It’s not you. It’s Kevin. I need a new manager. Stat. He was supposed to hang these on February first, but didn’t do it until three days ago and they’re too low. I’ve been so busy that I filed it under ‘things to gripe about later.’ Of course, I’ve already had customers complain about it.”
“Complain? Why? It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Because this is Pinecrest and if it’s not perfect, people freak the fuck out.” I dabbed at the corner of my eye with a tissue. “Not all of them, but they’ve got some real assholes here. Be on guard for Marla Simmons and Abby Newman. Two crabby grannies with attitude. They hate everything about this place, but…they come every day. Go figure.”
“I can handle them,” she assured me, shooing me away. “Out. And be quick about it. You need to go home.”
Four hours later, I was still there, still feeling like shit, and dealing with the glaring discrepancies that were throwing off my inventory. Yep, I desperately needed a new manager.
But at least, it was going smoothly for Stacy up front.
Business had been steady all morning and the assistant who’d shown up to work was the best of the Pinecrest bunch. Probably because she was from Elmwood. Lara was a twentysomething yoga teacher who’d taken a second job in the area to save for a trip to Argentina. If I hadn’t known she was leaving in two months, I’d have fired Kevin and promoted her on the spot.
I was mid-internal gripe when the fireworks started at the coffee counter.
“I ordered no foam. This has foam. Please redo it,” a haughty voice commanded on the other side of the wall.
“No problem,” Stacy chirped. “I’ll just scrape it off and—”
“No. Remake it.”
“Uh, okay. I can do that,” Lara volunteered. “It’ll be a few minutes, Mrs. Simmons.”
“No, that’s not good enough. I want it done now. Your mistake shouldn’t inconvenience my morning,” the old woman huffed imperiously.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Listen, in retrospect, maybe I should have let Stacy and Lara handle one of our famously difficult clients, but I wasn’t at my best. Not even close. I was edgy about inventory, anxious that Court hadn’t called, and whether I wanted to admit it or not…I was sick.
So I ignored my common sense, blew my nose and washed my hands, and prepared to do battle with the seventy plus year old dragon who derived great pleasure in making my staff work extra hard to sell her a damn latte.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Simmons. How are you today?” I greeted her cheerily, hoping to charm her out of being a pest.
The older woman swiveled on her sensible heels and gave me a harsh onceover. “I almost sliced my forehead on these silly hearts you have hanging from the ceiling and of course, your employees never listen when I ask for no foam. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Sorry about the rogue heart and don’t you worry, we’ll get you a fresh latte ASAP,” I replied, blinking rapidly to avoid cold-symptom tears from spilling.
Fuck, I didn’t feel good.
“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes critically and pronounced, “You’re sick.”
“No, no, I’m okay. Just a little tired.”
“No…you’re unwell,” she insisted. “You shouldn’t be here, infecting the public with germs, Ivan. This is a code violation.”
“Hey, leave him alone,” Stacy barked, sliding a fresh latte across the counter. “And have a nice day.”
The older woman gasped. “The nerve. I am shocked at the level of impudence and lack of customer service.”
“Mrs. Simmons…”
She shot an angry glare at everyone behind the counter. “I was about to ask how Court is faring, but you evidently don’t care about your customers, so I’ll save my concern and take my business elsewhere.”
And with that, she stormed out of Rise and Grind.
“She’ll be back tomorrow,” Lara predicted in a low tone as she turned to help the young mother with a stroller at the register.
Stacy set her hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t handle that well. I’m sorry. Are you okay? You should go home and—”
“I will. I just—I have to…” I ran outside, ignoring the sharp snap of icy wind. It was fucking freezing outside and shit—it was snowing too. I spotted the old woman tottering down the street, latte in hand. “Mrs. Simmons!”
She didn’t stop.
Mean, ol’ raccoon, I grumbled under my breath, wrapping my arms around my body as I chased after her.
“Ivan. What are you doing? You don’t have a coat.”
“Sorry, but what did you mean?” I panted, sneezing into my elbow and shivering with cold. “When you asked how Court is faring? It seemed like you were referring to something…sp-specific.”
Her face pinched with something that looked vaguely like real concern. “He broke a rib falling off a ladder this morning. Or so I heard.”
Blood drained from my face and I was pretty sure my soul left my body for a few seconds. I couldn’t form words and I was beginning to lose feeling in my fingers and toes.
“Ladder? Where? Wh-when? Are you sure it was C-Court? Ah-choo!”
To my utter shock, mean ol’ Mrs. Simmons tsked like a sweet grandmother and handed over her latte so she could dig around in her purse for a handkerchief—the old-fashioned kind with a fancy monogram embroidered on one corner.
“My grandson is an ER doctor at Pinecrest Memorial and—Ivan, are you alright? Take the kerchief and blow your nose, dear,” she insisted as she rescued her latte from my trembling hands. “Ivan?”
“Yeah, okay. Okay.” I obeyed, but my head was swimming, my heartbeat skipped every other beat, and my extremities were now popsicles.
No, I wasn’t okay.
I was going to faint.
“Ivan? Help! Someone, help!”
* * *
The next thing I remembered, I was in the hospital attached to an IV with my very worried-looking boyfriend hovering beside me on a plastic chair, his torso wrapped with thick bandage.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Court cooed softly, bringing our laced fingers to his lips.
“I—where are we?”
“Pinecrest Memorial. You fell in front of C’est Bon. Luckily Jean-Claude was there to pick you up while Mrs. Simmons called for an ambulance. She pulled a few strings to get you into a room. The doctor says you’re dehydrated, thus the IV. They’ll want to do concussion protocol before they release you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “How do you feel?”
I took a moment to run a quick self-diagnosis. I was warm and I didn’t feel feverish or sniffly, and…Court was here. “I’m…fine. I think. Are you okay?”
A single tear slid down his cheek as he shook his head. “No, I’m not. Christ, you scared the fuck out of me. They brought you in on a stretcher, Ive. Your lips were blue and you were so pale. I thought you were—”
I squeezed his fingers, but didn’t bother fighting my emotions.
“Shh. I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m here,” I sobbed.
Court slinked his arm under the IV tubes and pulled me to his chest. “I love you so fucking much. You are not allowed to go anywhere, you hear? No dying on me. We’ve got decades together. We promised each other and I just…I can’t do this without you.”
I couldn’t reply with words so I hugged him as tightly as possible, blubbering through a haze of snot and tears. His grunt of discomfort brought me back to reality.
“What happened to you? Mrs. Simmons told me you fell.” I squinted at the bandage, fighting a new round of emotion. “Why were you on a ladder at the rink?”
Court sucked in a deep breath, his ears tinged pink. “I wasn’t at the rink. I was at home, trying to put up that Valentine flag you bought. I must have lost my footing or something ’cause I was on my ass in a flash. It’s not that bad. I mean…I’ve cracked my ribs dozens of times. You tape up and move on. It’s just the way it happened is a little embarrassing. It’s one thing to eat it on the ice doing battle against a defender built like a fridge and another to fall from a not so great height while hanging a candy heart flag. My reputation is totally tattered.”
I pursed my lips to hold back my monster grin. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“Too late. They already know. I’d already been to the rink and breakfast, telling myself I was fine. But then I was at the gym with Riley, Vinnie, and the guys, gritting my teeth curling twenty-pound weights and they knew something was up. I told them what happened, lifted my shirt and…” Court made a universal “gross” face. “It’s black and blue and obviously fucked up.”
“Oh, honey. That stupid flag. Ugh! I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner…like last week. It seemed like it meant a lot to you and I wanted it up when you got home today. You know…for Valentine’s Day,” he said sheepishly.
I sniffed and just drank in the sight of him. My love, my heart. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Ive.” He kissed my hand gallantly and chuckled. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“From Pinecrest Memorial,” I added with a laugh.
“Hey, we’re going to bust you out of here and go find some overpriced chocolate and roses and—”
“Let’s not. I don’t need any of that. I just want to be with you.”
Court smiled. “Me too. But I promise…next year, we’re going to do Valentine’s Day right.”
And here we were, Valentine’s Day one year later.
Chapter 4
Court
Two terrible Valentine’s Days in a row was enough to make anyone jittery about an accidental three-repeat. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about pulling off a big romantic gesture without landing in the hospital or destroying the kitchen this year, but I had to try.
Sure, it was tempting to accept Ivan’s offer to pretend this February fourteenth was just an ordinary old Wednesday same as any other. But I wasn’t going to. Even though we were both ridiculously busy.
I had an early meeting with Riley at the high school regarding athletic department business, a meeting with Vinnie to strategize for our upcoming game schedule, and an afternoon of coaching at the rink. I was pre-exhausted just thinking about all the adulting I had ahead of me, but I was also humming with excitement. See, I had big plans for tonight.
Big plans.
So, here we go…
The morning started out the same usual.
Ivan yawned and stretched his arms over his head, padding into the kitchen at what-the-fuck-o-clock. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the red envelope propped against the coffee machine.
“What’s this?” He picked it up and whirled around.
“I dunno.”
“Really? ’Cause it looks like a Valentine’s Day card,” he smirked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Hmm. Are you making coffee or am I?” I scratched my nuts through my boxer briefs and bumped his hip.
Ivan stepped aside, raking his teeth over his bottom lip as he leaned against the counter, turning the envelope in his hands. “It’s heavy…good stock paper, if you know what I mean.”
I pushed all the appropriate buttons on our high-tech appliance and set two mugs on the island. “I definitely don’t know what you mean. It’s just a card, babe. You gonna open it or what?”
“No, I’m savoring this moment. This is the first valentine you’ve ever given me. It’s special.” He perched his cute ass on the barstool across from me, eyes danced merrily.
I frowned. “No way. I’ve given you lots of valentines. Think of all those years in grade school together. I’ve probably given you a dozen boxes of candy hearts too.”
“A flimsy dime store cutout card of a Transformer with a silly saying like, ‘I would move a boulder for you’ doesn’t count and you know it.”
“Hey, at least now you know I mean it. I would totally move rocks for you. I’ll even lick your rocks if you want.” I waggled my brows and slid a cup of java toward him.
“Ah, the romance.” Ivan snickered, then held up a hand. “Hang on. Before we go any farther, I need an assurance that this card doesn’t contain a coupon for a homemade dinner or an offer to hang any Valentine Day decorations from a great height.”
“Very funny.” I rolled my eyes. “Just open the damn card.”
He wiggled in his seat and beamed at me. And you know, my heart swelled in my chest, making me feel light-headed and dizzy. I could blame it on my uncaffeinated state, but I knew it was Ivan. Just one look and I was putty in his hands.
He lifted the seal like one of those psychos who carefully opens wrapping paper on birthdays and Christmas while I sipped my coffee, hoping to curb an impatient growl when he paused.
“Is it a sex coupon?”
“Maybe.” I grinned. “Open the fucker and find out.”
Ivan dropped the card and shook his head as he reached for his coffee. “I shouldn’t. I’m still sore from last night.”
Oh. My. God.
Okay, to be fair…I bet he was sore.
We’d had one of those manic sexy time sessions where we just couldn’t get close enough fast enough. A sweet make out session on the sofa in between commercials during the Bruins game had morphed into a blow job. Ivan was a master at giving head. He’d bobbed on my pole, licking and sucking like a man possessed while I’d raked my fingers through his hair, spreading my legs wide to give him room to work his magic.
I couldn’t remember either of undressing, but Ivan had been naked from the waist down and he’d seemed to enjoy my desperate reaction when he’d arched his back and swayed his hips. Suddenly, I’d had a choice to make…was this a BJ exchange or were we going to fuck on the sofa? And if choice number two won, did I have the willpower necessary to not come after two pumps like a teenager on prom night?
I’d made an executive decision and picked him up, rolling him to the chaise part of the sectional, legs up. I’d sucked him, of course, but my goal was getting inside his ass. So I’d teased his hole with my fingers and tongue, worshipping him till he’d demanded lube and my dick, asap. No problem.
Thankfully, we kept a small bottle of lube wrapped in a hand towel in the end table drawer. This, my friends, was not our first rodeo.
I was inside my man in record time, sighing at the fucking magical feel of his tight heat, pulling me in and holding me captive. It was always intense, but last night we’d exploded like a barrel of gasoline lit by a short fuse. The gentle rock and roll gave way to rough thrusts and cries for “More, more, harder, harder, yes, yes, yes!”
Ivan had wanted to be on top of me. He liked riding me, tweaking my nipples and lifting his sweet ass up and down…over and over, his cock leaking precum on my lower abs. I’d known that touching him was dangerous, but I’d never been able to resist him. Sure enough, the second I’d closed my fist around his shaft and tugged, Ivan threw his head back and gasped as his orgasm hit.
And that had been the end of me too.
I shifted on my barstool and glanced over at the sectional in the adjoining living area. “That was hot, but I don’t think we’re the couple who needs coupons to cash in for sex.”
He chuckled. “We’re not, but you have to admit, it’s a fun idea.”
“Mmhmm. Ivan?”
“Yeah?”
“Open the fucking Valentine’s Day card.”
He obeyed, tracing the outline of the heart on the front of the card before opening it.
So…don’t get too excited. It was your standard “I love you so much” schmoopy deal and although the sentiment was one thousand percent true, the real message was written by hand at the very bottom.
“Meet me at the rink at five p.m. sharp,” Ivan read. He met my gaze and winked. “Okay. It’s a date.”
Chapter 5
Ivan
At four-fifty-five that afternoon, I pushed the doors open to the Elmwood Rink, stopping at the reception desk to say a quick hello to Erica.
“Yoo-hoo! Is someone hiding behind this gigantic bouquet of roses?” I leaned in to sniff them before peering around the vase. “Who’re these from? Do you have a new beau, Erica? Tell all, please!”
“I wish. These are for you.”
“Me?” I actually put my hand on my heart and glanced around the empty lobby. “How?”
“There’s a card, doll. Check it out.” She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder as she stood and pointed at the small white card nestled among the blossoms.
I ripped it opened with zero chill. Section I, row C, anywhere in the middle. I love you, C
“What’s he up to?” I asked, mostly to myself.
“I don’t know, but wow…Court Henderson is in love, love, love. You are one lucky man, Ivan.”
I grinned, slipping the card into my pocket. “I know. I’m going to need his help bringing those home. Is it okay if I leave them here for now?”
“Of course! Happy Valentine’s Day!”
I made my way to the section and row indicated on the card and took a seat in the middle, smiling at a few familiar faces before fixing my attention on the group of Mighty Mites skating in circles at center ice. Court followed them like a shepherd herding wayward sheep, his whistle at the ready.
“There he is!”
“I see him too.”
“He’s here!”
“Can we do it now?”
I cocked my head curiously and waved at the posse of six to nine year-olds pointing in my direction. Court glanced up and I could have sworn he blushed. Now that was cute.
I wondered what the kids were up to. They liked to celebrate all the holidays, so I had no doubt some of the parents had brought heart-shaped cookies and punch. And maybe they practiced some cool new moves they wanted to show off.
Just as I was about to cheer them on, Court blew his whistle, signaling some kind of choreographed activity. Four of the kids skated to Court’s left, six lined up in the middle, and four more skated to his right.
“Are you ready? On the count of three,” Court instructed. “One, two, three…go.”
All three groups each unraveled a banner, the first said Happy, the second Valentine’s Day, the third, Ivan.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ivan!” they yelled in unison.
I jumped to my feet and covered my mouth.
I was touched and on the verge of tears. And yes, my face was on fire. “Oh, my…wow. Thank you.”
The kids rolled their signs up and delivered them to me group by group, giving my high-fives before turning to fist bump their coach. Yes, there were cookies and someone’s parents brought punch. The kids exchanged cards too, and I had to say, it was all so much heart and flower happiness that I felt gooey and warm inside.
When the last kid had been picked up, Court jumped over the boards and grasped my face in his hands and kissed me.
“Love you.”
I blinked dazedly. “I love you too. This is…so nice. The roses too? You really went all out this year.”
“Oh, baby, I’m not even close to done.”
“Huh?”
“Give me ten minutes to change out of my skates. I’ll meet you in the lobby and we can walk to dinner.”
“Walk? It’s thirty degrees outside and—where are we going?” I asked suspiciously.
“You’ll see. Not to worry…I’m not cooking and neither are you.”
“Court, wait!”
He was gone.
True to his word, he was at my side ten minutes later. But he was acting a little fishy. He put the roses in my car yet he still insisted on walking and I couldn’t convince him that going out to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day was a terrible idea.
“Usually, yes,” he conceded. “It’ll be different tonight.”
“No, it’ll be more crowded than ever.”
“Nolan hooked us up. We’ve got a private table for two at the diner.”
“Really? But…”
“Trust me, babe.” He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk on the fringe of the park and pointed up at the sky. “Remember the night we made snow angels and wishes upon stars?”
I smiled at the memory and tilted my chin to the inky sky. “I remember it well. It was cold, but I think it’s colder now. My fingers are blue and my toes are about to fall off and—”
Court shut me up with a kiss. “For the first time in years, I knew what I wanted that night. It was all so fucking clear. I wanted to stay in Elmwood, I wanted to work at the rink, and more than anything…I wanted you. I’m not a praying man, but I prayed that night that I’d find a way to make it all happen.”
I leaned into his side and squeezed his hand. “I’m so glad you did.”
“Me too,” he said fondly, stepping aside. “And I think that’s the star. See it? That one…right there.”
I squinted. “I think I see it. The one next to—wh-what are you doing?”
Court dropped to one knee and pulled a small box from his pocket. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. In good times and bad, in sickness and health, forever and always. You’re the better part of me and I know it. I know this probably a corny day to ask this, but in a way, I think it’s perfect. So…what do you think? Will you marry me, Ive?”
Tears clouded my vision as I nodded. “Yes. Yes, I—”
He slipped the platinum band around my finger and stood, pulling me into his arms. “I love you, baby. You are my heart.”
“I love you too.” I swiped at my eyes then buried my face in his neck. “I think you broke the Valentine’s Day curse.”
He chuckled softly. “Phew! Happy Valentine’s Day, fiancé.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Was it sappy? Maybe. Was it wonderful? One thousand percent yes. We always knew this was where we were heading. We owned a business and a house together. We shared a life in every possible way, and forever was what we both wanted. It was ours. And from now on…I think we’d both always love Valentine’s Day.
