Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“I thought you didn’t want to talk shop.”
“I’m not talking shop.”
“Then what are we doing at your shop?”
“You’ll see.”
I stop at the gate and the attendant comes out of the booth. “Hey, Mr. Davis.”
“How’s it going, Armando?”
“Can’t complain. You’re good to go.”
“Thanks.”
“You got it. Have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too.”
He gives us a wave and steps back into the booth. A moment later, the gate goes up. I pull in and drive through the labyrinth beneath the stadium until I come to my spot. I park and shut off the engine then turn to Devon.
“Come on,” I say.
“What are we doing?”
“Having a nice evening. So, let’s go. Out of the car.”
She laughs and climbs out. I walk around and take her hand then lean over and plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Devon leans into me while I slip my arm around her waist and lead her into the arena. With no events at the arena tonight, there’s minimal staff. But we’re greeted with friendly smiles by those who are there.
“So, what are we doing? You going to show me your locker room or something?”
“Not exactly.”
I lead her down the long tunnel that leads to the ice, and sitting on a table just inside the gate are two pairs of skates. Devon beams at me.
“Are you kidding me?” she asks.
“Do you see me laughing?”
She laughs for me. “I’ve never ice skated before. I don’t know how to do it.”
“Well, it’s time for you to learn.”
Smiling at her, I sit Devon down in the chair before kneeling and pulling off her shoes. I set them on the table, put on a pair of ladies’ ice skates for her, and lace them up good and tight. Once I have her set up, I quickly put on my skates and help Devon to her feet. She’s a little unsteady and giggles at herself.
“Easy now,” I say. “Just take it good and slow.”
I open the gate and walk Devon to the ice. She’s stepping gingerly, a nervous look on her face but a smile on her lips. The house lights are off, leaving the stands in darkness, while the spotlights over the ice are on, making the smooth, clean surface of the ice glimmer.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Dawson.”
“Of course, you can.”
I step onto the ice first and turn around, taking Devon’s hands in mine. Her legs are wobbling and she squeals, but I hold onto her and help keep her upright. Moving slowly, I start skating backward, pulling her out to the ice with me. She glides along, still wobbly and unsteady, but managing to stay on her feet.
“See? You’re doing great.”
She laughs. “I am! I’m doing it!”
“Now, I’m going to let go…”
“No, no, no,” she shrieks. “Don’t let go.”
“You can do this. Just slide your feet forward one at a time. Smooth and easy.”
She yelps when I let go of her hands, skating backward in front of her. Devon’s strides are jerky and uneasy, and she has to pinwheel her arms a few times to keep herself upright, but she does it. I laugh and clap. “See? You’ve got this. Just believe in yourself.”
Her face lights up, and she gives me that smile that not just stirs my loins but makes me feel all sorts of things.
And then she stumbles. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open as she waves her arms wildly, doing everything she can to stay on her feet.
“Oh no!” she squeals.
Devon’s foot comes out from under, and she lurches, overcorrects, and falls backward. She hits the ice butt-first with a loud grunt.
“Ow!” she cries.
I skate over and reach down. She gives me her hand, and I haul her to her feet. With a chuckle, Devon rubs her injured backside and sticks her lower lip out as if she’s pouting but bursts out laughing.
“You were doing great,” I say.
“Until I wasn’t.”
“It’s a learning process. Just take it slow and easy.”
I take Devon’s hand in mine and skate alongside her. We move slowly and deliberately, up one side of the rink then down the other, and it’s not long before she’s skating smoothly and with more confidence. She looks over at me with a wide smile on her face and a glimmer in her eye.
“This is amazing,” she says.
“Yes, you are.”
Flush crawls up her neck, and she looks down at the ice. The arena’s speakers crackle. A moment later, Percy Sledge’s hit song ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ begins to play, making me laugh. Devon looks over at me with a look that’s equal parts surprised and amused.
“Laying it on kind of thick, aren’t you?” she asks.
“This isn’t me. This is Jerry, the head of security here. He thinks he’s funny,” I say with a chuckle. “This one is pretty good, but it’s definitely not the song I would have chosen if I were trying to lay it on thick.”