He rolled his eyes. “I was three, and it was a long day waiting for him to come home.”
“And I also learned how you used to like Nancy and Lucy tying your hair into braids so you could look like them.”
“When I was four,” he said, frowning at his sisters who giggled and nudged one another.
“Here we go, come on, kids.” Hilary walked into the kitchen holding a huge chocolate birthday cake covered in lit candles. Bert hovered behind her, his arms out as if ready to catch either her or the cake should there be any faltering.
“Time to sing happy birthday to Uncle Rick,” Hilary called.
The kids whooped with delight then launched into a very noisy rendition of Happy Birthday. Hilary walked slowly across the kitchen, carefully balancing the cake, the lit candles sending flickers of light over her face.
I joined in the singing as Rick knotted his fingers with mine. When the cake was set before him and the song finished he leaned over it.
“Make a wish, make a wish first,” Elliot shouted, jumping up and down on the spot and clapping his hands.
“Okay.” Rick screwed up his eyes for a second then opened them and blew out the candles in one sharp puff. He grinned at the three small boys.
“What did you wish for?” Ted asked.
“Yeah, what did you wish for, Uncle Rick?” Elliot demanded.
“I can’t tell you that, it will stop it coming true,” Rick said, feigning mock horror.
“Ah, he always wishes for the same thing,” Jack said, nodding confidently and crossing his arms over his skinny chest.
Rick looked at him, surprised. “I do?”
Jack shrugged. “Yeah, you always wish that you could score the winning shot for the Stanley Cup.”
Rick laughed, a real hearty, deep guffaw. “Ah, you got me there, kid, I usually do, but this year, no…” He lifted my hand to his mouth, turned it over and kissed my palm. “This year I wished for something entirely different.”
Chapter Eight
Sitting in the Lexus the next day, heading toward the rink instead of my office, I couldn’t quite believe how Rick had persuaded me to skip work. I didn’t skip work. Ever. I always went into the office. It was my office. My business.
Oh yeah, I remembered how he’d gotten me to agree. My legs had been wrapped around his hips before I’d even opened my eyes that morning, and until I’d promised to take a whole day off I wasn’t getting any of what I wanted, what I needed the same way I needed oxygen.
It had been underhanded, conniving and manipulative. It had worked extremely well!
A quick call to Maddie, who now had her cousin Cassie helping out, to tell her I was taking a day off had been a breeze. There was more than a hint of “tell me later” in her voice but I could live with that.
“Practice is only an hour on a Monday,” Rick said, “We don’t like to overdo it when there’s a Tuesday game so afterward I’ll take you to that Italian place I was telling you about. It’s really nice, small and intimate with amazing food.”
“Sounds lovely,” I said, resting my hand on his thigh. I couldn’t stop touching him. It was as if I would never get enough. Never fill the need to have him close, with me—in me.
The outside of the Vipers’ home rink was painted red and had huge emerald-green snakes with black forked tongues painted above each entrance. Rick parked around the back next to several other expensive cars and a bright orange motorcycle. He keyed the number into a security door and as we stepped inside the cold hit me. It was like walking into the arctic. The air even smelled different, icy and fresh with a hint of nachos and beer.
“Put your coat on,” he said, grinning at me when I shivered.
“Oh yes,” I said, remembering that he’d told me to bring it and I was holding it in my hands. “Good idea.” I slipped my arms in and zipped it to my chin as we wandered toward the huge slab of ice.
Through the Plexiglas I could see half a dozen guys racing around like darts, chipping the puck backward and forward and zipping to either end of the rink at ferocious speeds. The noise of their skates sliced through the air and the deep bellows of their shouts rattled up to the rafters.
“Carly’s over there,” Rick said, gesturing to a lone woman in a navy-blue coat sitting in the stands near the tunnel. “Why don’t you go and sit with her?”
“Oh, yes, I will. Actually I have some things to run over with her about Saturday.”
“Ah, the Roman party.” Rick raised his brows. “Can’t wait to see you in a toga. Please tell me you’ll be naked beneath it?”
I frowned. “I’ll be working, remember.”