The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series) (8 page)

Amanda has won a Date With Nate
.

Is this for real?

“Amanda, you’ve won a coffee date with Nate,” Andy says excitedly. “What do you think?”

“Well, Andy, as you can see I’m married with kids,” Amanda says, a gleam coming into her eyes.

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

“So I’m giving this date to my little sister,” Amanda says, taking the slip of paper from Andy and putting it in my hand. “So Kenley Hunter, you’re now going on a date with Nate Johansson.”

Chapter 8

Assist: A pass made right before a goal is made. One goal can have up to two assists
—
Nate

I stare down at the piece of paper in my hand.

The piece of paper that is giving me a
Date With Nate.

My hand begins to shake. Everyone is applauding, and Andy goes on to thank everyone for coming out today, blah, blah, blah, but I’m freaking out.

This is the last thing he wants,
I think, my panic returning full force.
And now he’s stuck with me.

There’s only one thing to do.

I have to let him out of it.

I make myself look at him, and Nate’s eyes lock with mine. He runs his fingertips across his stubble—damn it, that move is so sexy it makes me
weak
—and calls Andy over.

Oh shit.
Shit
. He’s going to tell him he wants out of the date. I have to stop him before this goes any further.

“Nate,” I say, forcing the word out, “I—”

“Andy,” Nate says, ignoring me, “I’m going to take a break for five minutes to talk to the winner, or
winners
, of this contest.”

Oh no. I can feel my face flooding with warmth, and I know what’s headed my way.

A second rejection from Nate Johansson.

“Of course, Nate,” Andy says.

“Let’s go in the back room,” Nate says.

“Here,” Lexi says, taking Bella from Amanda. Then she gazes down at Claire. “I’m getting your muffin, and we’ll go eat while Mommy talks to Nate.”

Claire nods, and then we leave Lexi with the kids. My heart is pounding again, my nausea has returned, and I vaguely hear Andy organizing customers into two lines: those who will wait for Nate and those who want to simply order.

Nate greets us on the other side of the counter and takes us back to the storage area of the store. He opens the door for us, and I brace myself for Nate to reiterate his lack of interest, tell me he’s not accepting my given win from Amanda, and he’s going to file a restraining order as soon as he can contact his attorney.

I brace myself for my impending humiliation. I lean against a shelving unit filled with flavored syrups and boxes of exotic teas. Then I fold my shaking arms across my chest and gaze at Nate, expecting to see him staring at me with an expression of annoyance on his face.

But much to my shock, he’s not.

In fact, Nate’s
grinning.

My heart springs back to life the second I see the expression on his handsome face.

“Thanks for the assist, Amanda,” Nate says, nodding at her. “You successfully helped me avoid a date with a Puck Slut.”

Amanda smiles back at him. “You’re quite welcome. But you still have to take Kenley out, that’s part of the deal. Otherwise you’ll have to take me out with two kids, and that’s not nearly as fun as going out with my sister.”

Gah!

“Amanda, stop it,” I say, embarrassed. I turn to Nate. “You don’t have—”

“Don’t have to what?” Nate interjects. “Take you out?”

“Um, I’m going to check on the kids,” Amanda says. “Nate, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

Nate nods at her. “Likewise. And thank you for letting me down so gently, Amanda.”

Amanda throws her head back and laughs. I can tell she likes him.

Of course, it’s kind of impossible not to like Nate.

“Bye,” Amanda says, stepping back out into the coffee house.

And now it’s just me and Nate.

“Kenley,” Nate says, “I want to go out with you.”

I stand still, stunned by his words. “You . . . do?”

Nate rakes his hands through his chocolate-brown hair. “I know I don’t make any sense. I know I’m contradicting myself.” He stops and exhales loudly. “Shit, how can I expect you to understand when I can’t even make sense of it?”

I don’t say anything. I feel like Nate is wrestling between keeping me at arm’s length, as a casual friend, or possibly letting me get closer to him.

Nate gazes into my eyes. “I know I told you I wasn’t interested last week. And trust me, that wasn’t easy for me.”

“It wasn’t?” I ask, hope surging through me.

“No, it wasn’t,” he admits. “In fact, it was the exact opposite.”

Where is Nate going with this?

“But when I talked to you last night, I kept wishing I could spend more time with you. I want to know you better. I . . . I want to know everything.”

My heart beats wildly at this admission. Before I can stop myself, I find myself being honest with him, too.

“I feel the same way about you,” I admit.

Then I see it. Nate’s eyes light up from my words.

“Yeah?” he asks, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Damn, this man is sexy as hell.

“
You betcha
,” I tease, grinning at him.

Nate cracks up, and I join him. Then he clears his throat.

“Okay. But I need to reassure you of something. I promise my change of position has nothing to do with reading that status you posted last night,” Nate continues.

My face grows hot. Oh no. I need to address that.
Now.

“Nate, I—”

“No, I only have a minute left,” Nate says, sticking out his palm to stop me from speaking. “But I assure you this is about me wanting to get to know you better. That’s all I’m asking. I would like the opportunity to get to know you.”

I study his face. Nate isn’t promising me anything. He’s not saying whether his feelings are romantic or platonic but right now, I don’t care.

Because all I want is to spend time with him.

“I’d like that,” I say.

Nate glances down at his watch and makes a face. “I have to go back out there.”

“Right,” I say.

“So we should plan something,” Nate says.

Excitement zips through me. “Yes, we should.”

“How about tonight? Can I see you tonight, Kenley?”

Chapter 9

Carré: It’s like a little sample square of chocolate — Kenley

“You want to take me out tonight?” I repeat. Because I need to hear those beautiful words escape his full lips again before I believe he means it.

“I’m done wasting time,” Nate says, his eyes locked on mine.

Oooooh!
I have no hope against this man.
None.
Nate hasn’t even kissed me yet, and I’m already in over my head.

“Okay then,” I say, nodding.

“Yeah?” Nate asks, smiling at me. “So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling back at him. “It’s a definite
yes.
”

His smile spreads across his face. And all I can think about is what it would be like to cup his face in my hands, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my fingertips. To inhale that woodsy cologne up close on his olive skin, to have those powerful arms around me as his lips were to touch mine . . .

Nate takes out his cell phone and hands it to me, interrupting the best daydream I’ve ever had.

“If you could put your number in there for me, I’ll text you in a bit and we’ll come up with a plan for this evening.”

I take his phone and enter my phone number. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Nate says, taking it back. Then he sighs. “Shit, I’ve got to get back out there and talk to people. But I’ll touch base with you when I get home. And read my messages from last night, will you?”

Then Nate flashes me a brilliant smile and goes out the door.

I take a moment to steady myself. Then in my head I completely lose it.

Ahhhhhhhhhh! Nate asked me to dinner! I know he hasn’t promised anything, and the last thing I need is Nate distracting me from my business but—

And this is a big, huge,
dangerous
but—

But
I really like him.

I mean, I’ve only spent hours with him, and all of that with other people present, but there’s something about him that’s
different
. My heart tells me Nate might be the one to go deeper, well beyond the surface of me, and embrace everything I am on the inside. That this hockey player might want to know the
real me
: my flaws, my faults, my dorky habits, my deepest thoughts. That Nate might be the man to take me on and go where no one man has ever cared to go before.

I leave the storage room, and I notice the song playing overhead is “Feel Again” by One Republic. Is that what could be on the verge of happening with Nate? That both of us—together—could allow our hearts to feel alive again?

With the song swirling in my head and a sense of giddiness sweeping over me, I make my way back to the table where Amanda and Lexi are sitting with the kids.

Both Amanda and Lexi quit talking and stare at me. I loop my straw tote over the back of my chair and sit down.

“Well?” Lexi asks. “What happened?”

I lean across the table and drop my voice. “Okay, I’m going to tell you, but you can’t react until we are in the car.”

“Okay,” Amanda agrees.

Lexi nods. “Yes. Agreed.”

I draw a breath of air, and the words fly out in an excited rush. “He wants to take me out tonight.”

Both of them smile, huge smiles, and I know it is all they can do not to scream in excitement.

“I
knew
it,” Lexi says quietly, a grin spreading across her face.

“Me too,” Amanda says, dropping her voice. “I could tell by the way he was looking at you.”

I beam in response.

“Oh Kenley, you’re wearing an
I’ve-got-a-huge-crush-on-this-boy
expression on your face right now,” Amanda teases.

I feel my face burn for the millionth time this afternoon.

Because I know Amanda is right.

“The other thing he said was to check my Connectivity messages,” I say quietly. “Which will have to wait, because my phone is at home.”

Suddenly two cell phones are sliding across the table toward me in rapid-fire quickness.

“Now,” Amanda demands. “Check your account
now.
”

I pick up Amanda’s phone and access her Connectivity app. Then I log myself in and sure enough, I have two new private messages.

I go to my Private Connections folder and open it. And there are two messages from Nate:

In your status, you didn’t say anything about my hot ass. Do I need to work harder on squats in the Demons’ weight room?

I laugh. If I had read this last night, I would have spared myself a whole mess of anxiety today because he obviously took my status in stride. Then I read the second message Nate left me:

Tomorrow I’m serving coffee at a charity event. The Roast and Grind from 2-4. It’ll be crazy with fans, but it would be great to see you, even if it’s brief.

I glance up at Lexi and Amanda, stunned. “Nate invited me here last night.” I pass Amanda’s phone back to her so she can read the messages. She begins laughing and slides her phone over to Lexi.

“Kenley, I swear you’re such a loon sometimes,” Amanda teases, taking a moment to tear up some blueberry muffin and put it on Bella’s tray.

Bella lifts her chubby hand and
whack
—smashes the muffin into a blob on her tray, which results in squeals of delight.

“Mommy, this is so good,” Claire exclaims, her head bobbing up and down as she puts another piece of muffin in her mouth.

“I’m glad you like it, baby,” Amanda says, affectionately stroking her blond curls.

“But all the drama you could have saved yourself,” Lexi says, drawing my attention back to our conversation. “And you could have saved your Italian stash of chocolate, too.”

I laugh at myself. “I’m a mess, what can I say?”

I glance across the coffeehouse at Nate behind the counter, and I wonder if he’s the guy who can take this mess on. Not only take me on, but embrace everything I am.

I watch as he playfully touches a baby dressed in a Dallas Demons T-shirt, and I know I’m ready to take him on. I want to know what makes Nate tick. What his faults are. Who has hurt him in his past. I want to know what drove him to build this wall to protect himself.

I want to see if I even have a
chance
of chipping through that defense system Nate has put up.

Because even though he doesn’t know it, he’s tearing down mine.

“This is, by far, the coolest place I’ve been in Dallas,” Nate exclaims. “Now I see why you wanted to come here tonight.”

I grin at Nate. We’re at Stackhouse Burgers in Dallas for our date, seated at a little table on the rooftop patio of the restaurant. Trees surround us, and the buildings of the Dallas skyline emerge from them. We each have a glass of cabernet sauvignon in front of us, and it feels so incredibly right to bring Nate here.

Because to me, this is the perfect place to get to know Nate better, over a couple of burgers and fries and in a casual setting. I want him to feel comfortable, and the truth be told, this is more my comfort zone than a fancy Dallas restaurant.

And even with fans coming up to talk to Nate, or request a photo, I still feel relaxed. I know this is part of being with Nate, and I enjoy watching him with the Demons fans. He’s gracious, and I find his openness another attractive quality of his.

After the last one walks away, I smile at Nate. “You’re very generous with your fans.”

“I don’t mind,” Nate says easily. “But now it’s your time. So what made you pick this restaurant?”

“I love the vibe of this place,” I say, smiling at Nate.

“I do, too,” Nate agrees. Then he cocks an eyebrow at me. “And it has
trees
.”

I burst out laughing. “Dallas has trees, Nate.”

Nate shoots me a quizzical look. “Not serious ones.”

“No, not
Minnesota
type ones,” I correct. “But there are plenty of things to love about being in Texas, regardless of our tree quality.”

“I think I’m beginning to see that,” Nate says, picking up his wineglass and taking a sip, his eyes focused on me the whole time.

I study him for a moment, appearing oh-so-sexy-casual in his white, long-sleeved linen shirt that he has pushed up to reveal half of his tattoo-sleeved arm. The whiteness of his shirt plays off his dark skin, and, oh, now he’s swirling the wine in his glass on the wood table top, and I swear everything the man does is sexy. I need to start talking before I lose it.

But Nate beats me to the punch.

“So you never did answer my Connectivity question about squats,” he says, a wicked smile passing over his face. “Do I need to do more?”

I begin blushing, and he bursts out laughing.

“Okay, I need to explain that whole message you saw,” I say.

“No, no, you don’t,” Nate says, grinning. “I’m just teasing you.”

“But I want to,” I say firmly. “If we’re going to get to know each other,
really
know each other, I want to be honest.” I take a breath before continuing because I have never been this open and honest with a man in my entire life. “I find you incredibly attractive.”

I feel my face burn. I take another sip of my wine, wondering if being that honest with a man so early is a bad thing to be, but since Nate already had
read
what I thought, I can’t hide it.

Nate takes in my words, and as he does, his fingers absently trail over his jawline, brushing over his stubble, and I want to touch his face so badly I might need to sit on my hands to refrain from doing so.

“Well, good, because I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, matching my honesty with his own.

My pulse leaps with his words. I’ve been called beautiful by men my entire life, but I have never wanted to hear those words more than I do from Nate.

“And do you know what made you even sexier in my eyes?” Nate continues, “When you stood up to those idiots at
Dallas Details
and were willing to walk away from that shoot, advertising opportunity be damned, to keep your self-respect. That took serious guts.”

My heart leaps inside my chest. Nate thinks I’m beautiful, but my strength made me
sexier
?

“Really?” I ask, hardly believing the words.

“You have a spine of steel, Kenley,” he says. “You’re
strong
. And that is one hell of an attractive quality to have as far as I’m concerned.”

“Nobody has ever called me strong before,” I admit, my voice getting a little wobbly. I take a moment to clear my throat before continuing. “With men, they get stuck on beautiful. It’s hard for them to see past that.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right men before,” Nate says.

“No, maybe I haven’t,” I say.

Until now.

A server comes up with our food. Because Nate is training, he opts for a burger with guacamole, no bun, and a side salad. I, on the other hand, completely indulge with my order of a cheeseburger with grilled jalapenos and sweet potato fries.

“Okay, let’s see if you’re right about these being the best burgers ever,” Nate says, picking up his knife and fork.

“I’m
so
right about this.” I eagerly pick up my cheeseburger and take a bite.

“Did I say confidence is a turn-on for me, too?” Nate asks, cutting up his burger.

I chew my burger. Mmmm, I never get sick of grilled jalapeno cheeseburgers. I try and think of a flirty reply for him.

“Okay, in keeping with that theme, I declare my burger is infinitely better than yours because grilled jalapenos make everything awesome,” I tease.

Nate flashes me a grin that makes my heart beat faster. “I’ll eagerly wait to see that turn up in a chocolate concoction then.”

I laugh, and he does, too. Then Nate takes a bite of his food.

“Oh, man, this is good,” he declares.

“I told you,” I say happily, smiling at him.

“But to answer your question,” Nate says, reaching for a napkin and wiping his face, “yes, I do like strong, confident women.”

“Nate, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” Nate says, his eyes holding steady on mine. “I mean that.”

“Okay,” I say, gathering up my courage. “So if I have all these qualities you want in a woman, why did you turn me down when I asked you to grab dinner?” I ask honestly, dunking a sweet potato fry in ketchup before popping it into my mouth.

“Easy. You’re dangerous.”

Confusion fills me. “Me? Dangerous? How so?”

“You’re someone I could like.”

Butterflies shift in my stomach, knowing that he felt the chemistry in our first meeting, too.

“And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that, when I swore I never wanted to feel that way again,” Nate explains. “That’s why I said no, Kenley. I said no because of exactly who you are. I know that makes no sense, but it’s the truth.”

I sit very still. He’s opening up about what happened to him.

“Nate, I know some woman hurt you,” I say gently. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Nate hesitates for a moment. “You can see that?”

“I see it because I’ve been there, too,” I admit. “I had my heart broken two years ago.”

Nate takes a sip of his wine. “What idiot let you go?”

“You don’t know all my flaws yet.”

“I already know your biggest one,” Nate says, cocking an eyebrow at me. “You eat curry in chocolate. That not only makes you flawed, but
weird
.”

I burst out laughing, and so does Nate.

“No, that was before chocolate became my life,” I say.

“Okay, this is BC—Before Chocolate,” Nate quips.

I laugh. “Yes, BC.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks. Then he puts his hand out. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

I study his face, and I know I don’t know him, but my gut says I can trust Nate with my story. Some of which is embarrassing. Some things I should probably edit for a first date. But when I see Nate, I see someone with whom I want to share my truth with, the bad parts and all, and see if he still wants to see where this could go.

I clear my throat before ripping the wound open on my painful past. “When I graduated from TCU, I went to work for an advertising/public relations agency in Dallas,” I say softly. “I was on the bottom rung of the PR ladder. I hated it, to be honest. It was so fake. Promote things you don’t believe in. Bill every single hour of your day to a client. Push for publicity for an uninspired product or brand and get ripped if you don’t produce results. I was miserable professionally.”