Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [92]
Megan was a reference librarian, so naturally she’d done her research beforehand, especially refreshing her knowledge on how to fall and get up again on skates. She’d also read all she could about police psychology and police families. Much of it she already knew, at least where the police stuff was concerned. The skating stuff was tied in because at times she felt like she was skating on thin ice. Especially when she almost fell on her fanny the second they got on the rink.
Logan kept her upright and kept his arm around her. “Relax. Trust me, I’m a professional.”
“A professional cop, not a professional ice-skater,” she said, tugging her angora knit hat down lower on her head with one hand while clutching his arm with the other.
“I’ll have you know that you’re hanging on to a guy who played four years of hockey in college and could have played for the Blackhawks.”
“Really. The Chicago Blackhawks?”
“The Berwyn Blackhawks.”
“I doubt there even is such a team.”
“You doubt me?” He loosened his hold on her to give her a reprimanding look with those sexy eyes of his.
She grabbed his arm as one of her skates almost slid out from under her on the slippery ice. “This is much harder than it looks.”
“And that’s just my arm. You should feel the rest of my body.”
“Logan! There are kids here.”
“I love when you use your scandalized librarian voice on me.”
“Behave yourself. As for your four years of hockey, I had four years of ballet in middle school.”
“Hockey trumps ballet any day.”
“Ha!” She was more determined than ever to show him some moves. She’d been deliberately underplaying her talent. Okay, maybe it didn’t rank as talent per se, but she wasn’t as klutzy as she seemed. She released his arm and did a pirouette on ice. “I did it!”
“I love you,” he blurted out.
“What?” She almost fell on her fanny with shock.
“You heard me.”
“Are you blushing?”
‘No,” he growled. “Keep skating.”
“Wait. Did you mean what you just said?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“You love me?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look very happy about it.”
“I planned on telling you in a more romantic setting.” He glared at a group skating by. “Without all these people around.”
“You can still do that.”
“Yeah, but it won’t be the first time I tell you.”
She unzipped her jacket as the sound of Gloria Estefan’s “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow” filled the air around the rink with its sassy brass section.
“What are you doing?” Logan demanded.
“You’ll see.” She lifted the hem of her red sweater.
“Are you going to flash me in public?” He appeared pleased by the prospect.
“No. Look.” Beneath the sweater was the I LOVE D.C. T-shirt he’d given her. She’d put masking tape over D.C. and wrote on it so it now read I LOVE LOGAN. “I was going to tell you somewhere private too.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“You didn’t really say it yet. Are you sure you’re okay with me being a cop?”
Here was the pivotal moment. Time to go forward and take chances instead of falling back in fear. Sure, there would be times she’d fall down, but as long as she knew how to get up again, she’d be okay.
She was tough. She was brave. She was bold. She could cope with the stress of his job. She couldn’t cope with the regret she’d have if she never even tried.
She’d been spooked by the realization that loving Logan was an emotional hazard that could end up breaking her heart. But she had the strength now to take that risk instead of playing it safe as she always had in the past. And so she said, “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I love you. Yes, I’m okay with you being a cop.”
He dragged her sweater down and fastened her coat. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Someplace quiet, private and romantic.”
“My bedroom?”
“That works.”
It not only worked, it proved to be an incredible night filled with love, laughter, sex and whipped cream.
Who could ask for anything more?
One year later . .