Fighting for the Edge (2 page)

“One throughout high school and then Marley. But since I got dumped both times, I figure it’s time to try something new.”

Aubrey studied him through the dim candlelight. With his warm brown eyes and lightly-freckled ivory cheeks, Chris perfectly fit the image of “the boy next door.” And it wasn’t just his looks that made him a great catch. She’d seen how he’d treated Marley all the years they were together – like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t know if you’re capable of being a casual dater.” She tilted her head to one side. “I think you’re the type of guy who falls hard and fast for a girl and wants her all to yourself.”

“Well, you make staying single look easy. Maybe you need to tell me your secret.”

“If a guy starts getting clingy, I let him know I’m not looking for anything serious. Having the ‘I’m training for the Olympics’ excuse makes it a lot easier.”

“You think girls will fall for that excuse too?”

“Once they get a look at your abs, they won’t care what lines you feed them.”

Chris sat back in his chair and grinned. “So, you’ve been checking me out.”

She smirked. “You know you’re in great shape.”

A car alarm sounded in the distance, and its wailing filled the silence as they turned back to their plates. Chris chewed with a pensive look. “How come it feels like we’re talking for the first time when I’ve known you for seven years?”

“Probably because we’ve never hung out… just the two of us. Mar was always around or Nick or Em…”

“We should hang out more often. You can be my wing woman and teach me all the finer points of serial dating.”

“I gladly accept that position.” She smiled and lifted her water.

Chris raised his bottle. “To keeping things casual.”

She tapped her drink to his. “And Bah Humbug to relationships!”

****

“Do you think we should’ve gone to my parents’ house?” I asked Sergei as I sat beside him on the couch. “If we were in Boston, we’d be closer to the airport. It might be rough getting out of here Sunday morning.”

He slipped his arm around me. “Everything should be clear then. All the reports say the snow will let up tomorrow.”

“I just don’t want to miss our flight and be late getting to Tokyo. It takes my body so long to get acclimated to the time change in Asia, and I need to be one hundred percent with the Canadians breathing down our necks and–”

“It will all work out.” Sergei locked his eyes on mine. “I promise.”

I smiled. “Early competition jitters, I guess.”

He cuddled me closer. “I am totally confident we’ll have no trouble making it out of here. Besides, if we were at your parents’ house, we wouldn’t be here alone… and snowed in.”

His lips brushed against my ear, setting off a tremble of goose bumps all over my skin. Even though we’d been married two and a half years, I felt like we were still newlyweds. I’d worried that working together at the rink every day might make us weary of each other when we came home at night, but there’d been no such problem. I couldn’t get enough of Sergei, and from the way he was looking at me now, he obviously felt the same.

I tilted my head up and let my gaze travel over Sergei’s face, starting with his hypnotizing eyes down to his slightly crooked nose and stopping on his oh-so-kissable mouth.

“What can we possibly do to entertain ourselves?” I asked.

“I may have an idea.” Sergei reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a deck of cards. With a crooked grin, he said, “Strip poker.”

“Strip poker?” I laughed. “How did you come up with that?”

“I saw it on TV last week when I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of late-night TV were you watching?” I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed. “It was a regular movie.”

I looked down at the cards and then up at Sergei. “This will be normal poker, right? Not some fancy version you played in Atlantic City?” When we’d attended Skate America there in October, Sergei and Chris had spent a lot of time in the casinos.

“Regular five-card draw poker. Nothing fancy.” Sergei stood and put the deck on the coffee table. “I’ll get some wine. You can inspect the cards in case you don’t trust me.” He gave me a wicked smile as he walked backward to the stairs.

I examined my outfit. With a cardigan plus a camisole topping my jeans, I had a slight advantage in the number of starting items. But I wanted a bigger edge. My eyes zeroed in on the Santa hat under the towering Christmas tree in the corner.

I jumped up and squeezed the floppy hat over my long, wavy hair. Sergei returned from the downstairs kitchen and set the bottle of wine and two glasses on the table.

“Hats aren’t considered clothing.”

“I was not informed of the rules when the game was proposed. Therefore, my hat will be considered an item in play.” I flicked the white pom-pom.

Sergei pulled me into his strong arms. “You’re lucky you’re so cute when you get all competitive.”

“Remember that when I kick your butt.” I flashed a smile and kissed his stubbly cheek.

We sat across from each other on the carpet, leaving just enough space to place the cards. I poured the wine while Sergei shuffled. He dealt the first round and took a sip of his drink.

“You know where we need to go in Tokyo?” he said. “That nightclub we went to the last time we were there.”

“Ah, yes, that was a very memorable night. The night you tried to seduce me.”

“Unsuccessfully.” Sergei laughed.

“Maybe we can do a reenactment next week. You might get lucky this time.” I winked over my cards.

A gleaming grin spread across his face. “I definitely like the sound of that. And I’m feeling pretty lucky right now with this hand.”

He displayed three kings, and I groaned, showing my measly pair of nines.

“First item of clothing must now be removed,” he said in an official voice.

I frowned and then slowly unbuttoned my red cardigan, watching the admiring glow in Sergei’s eyes intensify. I paused with the sweater pulled down over one shoulder.

“Enjoy this because you’ll be doing all the stripping from now on.”

“That’s quite a statement.” Sergei poured more red wine into my already half-filled glass.

“Is your plan to get me tipsy so I’ll make bad decisions?”

“No, I can beat you without any tricks. I’m just taking care of my wife.” He rubbed his hand over my outstretched leg. His touch heated my skin through the denim.

“Mm… also trying to distract me with affection. Very nice strategy.” I closed my eyes for a moment as he moved to massaging my bare foot. “But it’ll take much more than that to throw me off my game.”

“I suppose I’m partly responsible for you being such a focused competitor.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be an anxiety-riddled head case on the ice. Have I thanked you for that lately?” I leaned toward Sergei and gave him a soft kiss.

He licked his lips. “Now who’s trying to be a distraction?”

I giggled and sat back to play the next round. Sergei’s two pairs didn’t stand a chance against my three eights, and I did a little jig. “Shirt’s coming off!”

Sergei’s gray thermal shirt showed off the contours of his lean muscles, and as he pulled it over his head, the view became even more delicious. I’d teased him about being an old man when he’d turned thirty the previous year, but twenty-year-olds wished they had his body. I sighed and resisted reaching out to run my hands through his short golden brown hair, across his sculpted shoulders, down his firm chest….
Stay focused on the game!

Sergei shuffled the cards, and luck turned back in his direction as he easily won the next round. I huffed and removed my camisole, careful not to knock off my hat.

“Now we’re almost even,” he said, looking me over as he dished out new cards.

“Not exactly. I have four items left to your two.”

“Not for long.” His eyebrows danced.

Branches of the big elm tree next to the townhouse rapped against the siding, and I sent a worried glance toward the large picture window. Sergei squeezed my foot. “It’ll all be over tomorrow.”

I gave him a little smile and concentrated hard on my cards, swapping three and trying not to smile when I received the new ones. Sergei placed his on the beige carpet for me to see. They were full of red hearts.

“Let’s see you beat a flush,” he said.

I made an exaggerated pout and then turned it into a wide grin. “Four of a kind!” I declared, fanning out my cards next to his.

He gaped at me, and I threw my head back with laughter. “Pants coming off!”

Sergei wore a half-annoyed, half-amused look as he stood. I rested my elbows behind me, reclining so I could take in all six feet of him. He popped open the button of his faded jeans and removed them at a teasingly slow pace. In nothing but his gray boxer briefs, he looked like a Calvin Klein underwear model. Only heart-stoppingly better.

“If you need help staying warm, I’d be happy to oblige,” I said.

He returned to sitting across from me. “You’re trying to distract me again.”

“I just want to ‘take care of my husband,’” I said with a sweet smile.

After another shuffle and a few quiet moments of decision-making, we readied to play our hands again, and my poker face threatened to crack. I had a good feeling I was about to do one of my favorite things – win.

Sergei spread his cards and announced in a confident tone, “Full house.”

I shook my head. “You’re making this too easy.”

With a flourish, I presented my handful of diamonds. “Royal flush.”

Sergei peered at me. “Are you hiding cards in your back pockets?”

I gasped in indignation. “I don’t cheat. I won fair and square and now it’s time for you to pay up, my love.”

He took his time rising to his feet and then pointed to his briefs. “You want these off?”

I nodded and hummed in response.

He gave me a slow, sexy smile. “Then you have to take them off.”

Desire burned deep within me, and I stood to face him. Lightly touching my fingertips to his chest, I trailed them down his smooth skin to his hard stomach. His eyes didn’t leave mine, thrilling me with their passion.

I slid my thumbs inside the waistband of his shorts and whispered in his ear, “You just made my victory even sweeter.”

****

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of music, and I hit the off button on the clock radio beside the bed. The music continued, and I realized it was Saturday morning and the noise was Sergei’s cell ringtone. Slipping out of his warm embrace, I reached farther across the nightstand to grab the phone. The slight movement resounded in my head and made me wince, and visions of an empty wine bottle and scattered cards and clothing flashed through my memory. I picked up the phone and squinted at the small screen.

“Logan?” I muttered to myself before answering hoarsely, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Em, I’m at the rink. The fire department called me.”

My heart leapt into my throat, and I sat up straight. Next to me, Sergei stirred under the blanket.

Logan breathed deeply over the line. “The roof caved in. Em, the rink is destroyed.”

Chapter Two

I popped two Tylenol capsules into my mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water. The dull ache in my head had been worsened by Logan’s grim news. Our rink, the place I considered my second home, was in shambles.

The stairs creaked, and Sergei appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with his cell phone in hand. “I talked to Logan, and it’s probably going to take months to finish the repairs. I’m making some calls, seeing what our options are.”

“None of the other rinks on the Cape have the ice time we need.”

“I know, we’re going to have to look a bit further. I’m calling around Boston, and Peter and Natalia are calling Providence.”

Aubrey and Nick’s married coaching duo were the only other coaches at our rink with elite-level skaters, so it made sense they were also anxious to find a temporary home.

I set the glass of water on the counter and massaged my left temple. “Boston and Providence would both be long commutes for everyone to make every day, especially when the weather could be iffy. We can’t afford to lose practice time because of people getting stuck in traffic or stranded by snow storms.”

“Those rinks are really our only options, though. The ones here on the Cape aren’t set up for the level of training we do.”

“This is just… unbelievable. One month from nationals, two months from the Olympics, and we don’t have a place to skate.”

Sergei joined me at the sink and swallowed me in a warm hug. I rested against his soft sweater and breathed in his fresh-from-the-shower scent.

“We’ll find a place.” He stroked my hair. “Might have to make some adjustments the next few months, but it wouldn’t be an Olympic season if we didn’t have drama, right?”

I smiled halfheartedly. When Sergei and I had started dating, we’d kept our relationship secret because the U.S. Figure Skating Federation wouldn’t have approved of it. They eventually found out and threatened to suspend Sergei from his coaching duties for violating the Code of Ethics. After the 2002 Olympics, the Ethics Committee ruled in Sergei’s favor, but the ordeal had made the weeks surrounding the Games a nightmare of stress.

“At least this time you’re not in danger of losing your job and your whole career,” I said.

“That’s right. This is easy stuff compared to that.” Sergei kissed the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out, Em.”

I gave him a peck on the lips and climbed up the four flights of stairs to our bedroom. I loved the townhouse, my parents’ summer home that they’d been letting us use, but I was looking forward to living in a place with fewer levels. As soon as I retired from skating, Sergei and I planned to buy our own home, and my parents could finally have their summer retreat back.

Before I entered the bedroom, I stopped across the hall and took a peek through the glass doors to the terrace. Piles of snow hid the wrought-iron patio furniture, and not an inch of the knotted wood floor was visible. Thankfully, the sky was clear, so the storm seemed to have passed as predicted. But not before ruining a very special place in my life. My heart grew heavy thinking about what the destruction at the rink must look like.