Fireside by Susan Wiggs (pdf e book reader txt) 📗

Dad.” AJ nudged him. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Bo said, grinning. “Just peachy.”

“Cool,” AJ said. “You were awesome.”

Bo rubbed the snow from his goggles and focused on Kim. “Now can I go inside, coach?”

“Lemme help you up.” AJ extended his hand.

So this was new. For the sake of this boy, Bo had done something way out of his comfort zone. A startling thought struck him—this was something a father did, every day. Bo had never experienced it firsthand. His concept of a father came not from what he had, but from what he lacked.

It came from AJ himself. It didn’t matter that he’d practically done himself in, that he was sitting half frozen in a snowbank. It didn’t matter that he was dying to be indoors, by the fire, nursing a beer. He looked at AJ and thought, that smile is worth everything.

Twenty-One

After dinner, Kim found Bo in front of the fire with his hands clasped behind his head and a wide, somewhat sleepy grin on his face. As she stood unobserved in the doorway, she felt a surge of lust.

I’m an idiot, she thought.

But there was no denying the truth. Athletes were her weakness. And this particular type—long-haired, long-limbed and bad for her—had been her downfall.

Taking care to erase all evidence of attraction from her face, she stepped into the room and perched on the arm of the settee. “You certainly look happy with yourself.”

“This is what they call in Texas a shit-eatin’ grin,” he explained. “And, lady, I earned it today.” He picked up the stereo remote and turned on some music. Vintage Neil Young drifted from the speakers. Bo was a fan of the pedal slide guitar, something she’d never given much thought to until he’d introduced it to her. “I ache in every part of my body,” he said, “is how I earned it. I ache in places I didn’t know I had.”

She caught herself thinking about his “places.” She had no business thinking of such things, but couldn’t help herself. “Snowboarding will do that to a person.”

He poured two small glasses of peppermint schnapps and handed her one. “To you, for making me face my fear.”

She sipped the fiery clear drink. “Apart from the whining, you did all right.”

“How about you? Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

“Perfect,” she said. She watched the flames dancing in the grate, pleasantly mesmerized. “A day on the slopes always leaves me feeling perfect. How’s AJ?”

“Dead asleep. You saw him at dinner,” Bo said. “He practically fell asleep in his lasagna. He could barely drag himself up the stairs. Almost didn’t make it to bed, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. But it’s a good kind of tired. He sure had fun today.”

“That was the whole idea, right?”

“It worked out even better than you promised. It was good to see him hanging out with kids his age.”

“He’s so great, Bo. You must be proud of him.”

“I am, although I can’t take any credit for it. That goes to Yolanda.”

Kim stayed quiet. He rarely mentioned her by name.

“I can tell she’s been a good mother,” he added. “Raised him well. She sure as hell doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her.”

Kim wondered what it was like to have such an intimate connection to someone, to make a child, and then…nothing. “I know she’ll be grateful to know you’re taking good care of AJ.”

“I guess. No idea what she’s like anymore.”

“But you did love her,” Kim said, though the statement was a question.

“We were kids,” he said, “but, yeah. In a way teenagers are in love.”

“Was she your first…you know?”

“You’re sure curious tonight,” he said.

She was. She wanted to know everything about him. “Well?”

“Okay, she wasn’t my first,” he said. “But it was the first time it was my idea. And that’s all you’ll get out of me about that, so don’t even ask.”

“Fine, then don’t ask me, either.”

“I won’t, because what matters to me is you, right now.” He laughed softly. “I never thought I’d be thanking somebody for dragging me up a mountain and forcing me down on a snowboard, but thank you. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen AJ.”

“You’re welcome.”

He angled his glass in her direction. “I’d raise a toast to you, but I can’t lift my arm.”

“Is that going to affect your pitching?” She laughed at his expression. “And does whining ever help?”

“Hey, I’m wounded.”

She couldn’t help herself; she examined him from stem to stern. “Where?”

“Everywhere. But especially my…neck and shoulders. Yeah, if you could just massage the kinks out—”

“I could, but I won’t.”

“Come on. You do me, and then I’ll do you. And, yes, I know how that sounds.”

“I’m not sore at all,” she said.

“But I am, and I need help. Come on, have a heart.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?” Yet she got up and stood behind him, gently kneading the large, powerful muscles of his neck and shoulders. Her excuse was that maybe this close contact would satisfy her stupid craving to be near him, to touch him. She could get it out of her system—yet she knew the thought was a lie the moment it occurred to her.

He let out a blissful sigh. “You have me pegged,” he agreed. “A big baby.”

The feel of him under her hands only made her wish things she shouldn’t be wishing. “I can’t believe snowboarding gave you aching shoulders,” she said.

“There are parts of me that ache worse,” he said, tipping back his head to look at her. “But it would be ungentle-manly for me to ask for a massage there.”

She swayed slightly toward him and hoped he didn’t notice. He’d taken a shower after they got home, and he smelled wonderful. “I didn’t realize you cared about being gentlemanly.”

“Normally, I don’t.” Then he added, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “And then I met you, and now it matters a lot.”

She let go of him and stepped away, taking a