Fresh Ice (20 page)

Quinn looked at her up and down again. “Oh, it is, trust me.”

“Good, because today, my friend sort of acted like he might be interested in more than friendship.” She nudged him with her hip. “There was some fairly awesome kissing involved.”

“But he might be a complete moron, if he risks a stellar friendship for a couple kisses, no matter how awesome.”

“Maybe I’m a little nervous about that, too.” She settled against his arm and cleared her throat. “Maybe that’s why I thought, ‘If I kiss this person who looks like Quinn, then maybe, just maybe, the real Quinn will emerge and we can have a conversation.’”

“About the kissing?”

Izzy laughed as the elevator doors slid open. “If that’s what you’d like to discuss.” She took a step into his apartment. “But first, let’s talk about the fact that the elevator opens right into your place!”

“Hey, your door opens right into your bedroom.” Quinn followed her. “At least I have the decency to have a living room before introducing my guests to the love den.”

“Oh, love den, that’s what we’re calling my efficiency over the coffee shop?”

“Mr. Murray, drinks are served on the balcony.” A young man in a stiff white shirt greeted them.

“Thank you. I’ll have the ginger ale and Izzy, what would you like?”

“The same, thanks.” Izzy stared at the waiter. When he walked away, she turned her stare to Quinn.

Her amazement made him smile. “Now, if you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you a view of Nashville that will blow your socks off.”

“Would it disappoint you to know I’m not wearing socks?”

She’s regained her humor quickly.
Quinn slid the glass door open and watched her step onto the balcony. “Doubtful, since a woman’s socks have never been held much interest for me. Now, if you were to tell me what else you aren’t wearing, I might be interested.” He gave her a lecherous grin.

“There’s the real Quinn. Wow, this is amazing!” Izzy leaned on the steel railing. “You get to see this every day?”

“I doubt I appreciate it as much as I should. Sometimes the scene down there seems cheap. Some of the romance of the Music City has worn off, for me.”

Izzy turned and faced him. “Sounds like we have some talkin’ to do, my friend.”

“If you’re up for it.” Quinn stepped aside so the waiter could set down two glasses of ginger ale. “But first, a toast.”

Izzy took her glass. “Okay, how about this: To seeing things differently.”

“That’s a loaded sentence.” Quinn took a sip. “So you want to hang out here, or should I send the help home early?”

Izzy laughed, nearly spewing ginger ale through her nose. “Send the help home early? Isn’t that a little pretentious?”

“I always thought it would be cool to say that. You know, if I had a beautiful woman up to my place to look at the lights. Maybe I’d nuzzle her hair,” Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. The warm scent of honey met him as he kissed the top of her head. “And I’d say, ‘How about if I send the help home early?’ And it would be very, very cool.”

Izzy leaned in
to his embrace. “It is very, very cool. Let’s send the help home.”

“Give me five minutes.”

The look in her eyes left no doubt about her sincerity. “I’m not going any place.”

He stepped inside quickly.
Before she changes her mind…or comes to her senses.

Izzy couldn’t hear what Quinn said to the waiter and his two helpers, but within moments they cleared everything out of the kitchen and left. She watched as if riveted to a silent movie, and sipped the ginger ale. It wasn’t like the normal ginger ale, it was a deeper color, and had a very pleasing bite.

Probably better I’m drinking this than wine. I have to keep a clear head.

Am I really going to go through with this?

I haven’t been with a man since Jason.

I hadn’t been with a man before Jason.

“There, everyone is gone, and dinner is served.” Quinn opened the sliding door and ushered her back into the apartment. “I hope you like surf and turf. Somehow it seemed appropriate for the two of us.”

He pulled a chair out for her and Izzy sat down to an elegantly set tabl
e. Candle light sparkled off the perfectly placed silverware and crystal glasses. “This is beautiful.”

“Surprised?” He sat across from her.

“Maybe a little. I mean, I rarely see you outside Waffle House.”

“I never struck you as a crystal/candle/silverware owning sort of guy. I suppose that’s fair. My mom sort of set me up when I moved here.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. My mom was one of those women who just knew how things should be, you know? She made sure I always had the right clothes, that sort of thing. Now my dad, well, he’s a beer and brawling guy. He loves that I played hockey. He hates that I like wine with dinner. Speaking of which…” he nodded to the ice bucket which held two green cans, “If the Vernor’s isn’t to your liking, I do have some wine.”

“Only if you’re having some.”

“Don’t touch it anymore.”

Izzy did not miss the change in his tone. “Sounds like something to add to the list of things we should talk about?”

Quinn shrugged. “It’s an old story. Young idiot gets a truck load of money to play hockey. Young idiot spends several years being a young idiot on the party scene. Eventually, he stops being young, and realizes he has to stop being an idiot.”

“I’ll stick with the Vernor’s. I’ve never had it before. It’s good.”

“Ah, you’re not from Michigan then.”

Izzy shook her head. “No, Tennessee born and raised, until I moved to Wisconsin with… Jason.”

“It’s okay to say his name, you know.”

She fidgeted with a napkin. “I know. It seems strange. I haven’t…I haven’t talked about him since I moved here.”

“Do you want to talk about him now?”

“No.” She lifted her glass to the light. “Tell me about Vernor’s.”

Quinn filled her crystal glass with the fizzy beverage. “Best and only ginger ale worth drinking. I actually have this shipped in from Detroit. I’m a Michigan boy, except for my college years, and as far as I’m concerned, buying it anyplace but in Michigan makes it taste funny.”

“A purist.” Izzy sipped her drink and smiled.

Quinn filled his own glass and raised it to her. “A toast.”

“Another toast?”

“Sure, why not? How about a toast to bridges.”

“Bridges?”

Quinn’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “Building them, maybe crossing them.”

“To bridges.”

Quinn stood, “Now, you just stay put and I’ll bring in dinner.”

A minute later he set a plate in front of her. “Wow, this looks amazing.”

“Well, maybe I’m buttering you up for something.”

Izzy glanced up from her plate.
He’s going to ask me to…do it…over dinner?

“Wow, do you look weird all of a sudden.” He sat down. “You look like you think I’m going to ask you to hand over your first-born.”

“Good luck. She’s pretty tough. She’ll definitely put up a fight.”

Quinn laughed. “Yeah, I can picture that. She’s got her mother’s determination.”

“So, what is it you’re buttering me up for with this amazing dinner?”

He hesitated setting his fork on his plate. “I’ve got this charity event this spring. It’s going to be huge. I’ve gotten commitment from NHL players, from all kinds of local celebrities. I’m hoping to raise a hundred thousand dollars for the Aubri Brown Foundation.”

“That’s a ton of money.” Izzy blinked. “That’s the hockey player who lost a child, right? They raise money to help families who lose children and need counseling or other things.”

Quinn nodded. “How did you know?”

“Don’t look surprised. You’ve mentioned the charity a couple times.”

“I’m not used to people listening when I talk about my charities, I guess. Anyway, I’ve got some local bands, some hockey people, even a few college figure skaters, but I don’t have that one sure draw. I need something, someone really, really good, and really unexpected.” He paused. “I could really use the Queen of Nashville Ice on my team.”

Izzy’s fork clattered to the floor. “I’m so sorry.” She bent down and picked it up, her face flushed. “Quinn…I….”

“Before you say no, hear me out. The Browns, they are a great family. But charity isn’t as big as it could be. I’ve wanted to do this one sort of mega event for a long time. I am trying to call in every favor I have coming and I’m making up several along the way. But today, when you were skating, I was blown away by the idea. If you agree to skate, even a little bit, I’m thinking we could do something like record the performance and sell the DVD. It would go a long way to hitting the goal.”

“I don’t know what to say. I mean, I haven’t been on the ice in so long.”

“You looked amazing today.”

She sipped her ginger ale thoughtfully. “So, let me understand something. All of this,” she waved around the room, “and that business this afternoon with the music and the skating…the throw…and …”

“The amazing kissing?”

“Yeah, that. That was all so I would agree to skate at your charity event?” Something inside her deflated.
So much for romance, I guess.

The light in his eyes changed. “That’s what you think? Crap, I knew I was going to get this all wrong.” He left his chair and knelt next to her. “Let me try it another way. Yes, the skating, the music, was to sort of nudge you into wanting to skate again. But I could have asked you to help me this afternoon at the rink.”

“When, before you tricked me into skating, or while you were kissing me?”

She was surprised at the anger in her voice.
Why do I feel like he’s using me suddenly?

He took her hands in his. “The two things have nothing to do with each other. I’m asking you to skate at the charity event because I think you’d do wonders for a really good cause. I asked you here because…because…”

Her anger passed, and she smiled at his awkwardness. “Because maybe the kissing was so spectacular, you thought a good meal might lead to more kissing?”

“Maybe.”

“Mr. Murray, are you blushing?” She laughed out loud and rumpled his hair. “I’ll say maybe. I’m not doing this alone. I’m a pairs’ skater. You’d have to skate with me.” She shook her head, surprised at her own eagerness to return to the ice.

“What? No, I…”

“That’s the deal. I can’t even think about it unless you agree to skate with me.”

“How am I supposed to learn figure skating in three months?”

“I’m going to leave that up to you.”

Quinn sat on his haunches and studied her. “You’re driving a very hard bargain.”

“Figure skating isn’t that hard. It’s all about knowing and trusting your partner. There are a lot of things I don’t know about you, Quinn.” She finished her dinner. “But how you feel about being on the ice isn’t one of them. And you already know a ton about me,” she stood and grinned at him, “more than I realized when I got up this morning.”

“Okay, let’s just table the idea for now. Tonight I’d like to get to know you, the real you, a bit better.” Quinn cleared the table. “If you’re up for it.”

“I believe I am.”

“You’re not too tired?”

Too tired to get to know more about you?
“Not at all.”

“You want to sit out on the balcony?”

“Sure.”

“Coffee?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great, go get comfy, I’ll be out in a minute. Oh, take that blanket there,” he pointed to a basket near the patio door. “It’s a little chilly out there.”

She stepped out and inhaled the clear, crisp air. She slipped off her shoes and curled up on the padded two seat glider, wrapped in the blanket like a huge cape. The lights of Nashville glittered across the night sky like miles and miles of neon stars. Izzy closed her eyes and let her other senses absorb the setting.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

Izzy opened her eyes and smiled. “Not a chance. Thanks,” she took a steaming mug from him. “The view is just a lot to absorb.”

“I know what you mean.” He stood in the archway of the door, looking at her. “I need to be honest about something.”

“Sounds ominous. Do you want to sit down?”

“Not until I see how you feel about what I’m going to tell you.”

She didn’t miss the pained expression on his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I’ve known who you were since Jason’s funeral. I was in town with the Admirals, and I heard about his passing and I had to see you. And when you bumped into me on the street, I knew who you were right away.”

We changed our names. How would he have known whose funeral it was?
Izzy stared at him, waiting for him to speak. “So are we going to dance around the phlegm wad you just dropped? Or are you going to be just a tiny bit more honest with me?”