Maybe This Summer (Colorado Ice #2.5)(11)
Her lips parted but no sound came out.
Wouldn’t be the first time he’d surprised someone with his abrupt bluntness, but he didn’t see much point in trying to impress her if she insisted on keeping this wall up. Just give him a door or at least a window to break in through.
Her shoulders rose and fell and she seemed to be weighing his words for a really long moment. As though something terrible could happen if she let her guard down. She intrigued him, and he couldn’t help but want to break down her walls a little. He’d never met a woman as beautiful, smart, and successful who seemed so unsure of herself in a social situation. She released another big breath before saying, “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll try to thaw a little.”
He sat back in the booth with a smile. “The tiniest bit, that’s all I ask.”
She leaned forward, folding and unfolding her hands on the table. “So, what exactly does your job as promotions manager for the team entail?”
He continued to watch the delicate, soft-looking hands as he answered. “I arrange all of the Avalanche’s corporate and charity events, and I take care of the team’s website—direct fan mail to the players, handle requests for appearances, that kind of thing. And I schedule all of Bernie’s appearances.”
She nodded. “Sounds busy.”
“It can be during the season. Summer is a little quieter.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes. I mean, as much as anyone can enjoy career choice number three.” He took a swig of beer. At least he’d gotten the chance to play professional hockey and serve his country. Not many people could say they’d realized two dreams in one lifetime. But it was hard to derive the same sense of fulfillment from what he was doing now.
She twirled the straw in her glass, avoiding his gaze as she said, “I have a confession.”
“There was a connection that day in your office—I knew it,” he said with a wink.
“Um, no. I was going to say I Googled you. A Marine, huh?”
So, she’d been interested enough to find out more about him. He’d take it as a good thing. He nodded. “I know. Hard to believe they let me in, right?”
“Not at all. You’re persistent enough,” she said with a teasing raised eyebrow.
Oh man, he barely knew her and already he was falling hard. Flirty, teasing banter with her seemed to mean so much more. “Only when I need to have something,” he said, unable to hold back the truth.
An awkward silence followed, but he couldn’t regret the words. Most men played games, most had game—he wasn’t that guy. Honest, blunt, straightforward, and upfront may not have always worked in his favor, and it may not that evening, but he was sticking to it. Someday, some woman would appreciate straight, no-bullshit honesty.
But maybe too far, too fast with this one. “Anyway…I’m not active duty anymore,” he said pointing to his eye.
“But you were at the DMV, so you obviously drive. Do you still have vision in that eye?”
He nodded. “About seventy percent. Unfortunately, being overseas when it happened, options for medical attention were limited. But once I arrived here, I looked into different treatment options, and I was a candidate for a clinical research trial on epithelial stem transplantation. It took a while, but the new stem cells worked to help regenerate my own.” He stopped, unable to read her expression. “You can tell me to stop talking any time now.” It wasn’t usually something he went into detail about on dates, but after his previous comment, he felt a little stupid, and rambling seemed like a better alternative to unreadable silence.
But again, she surprised him. “No. It’s fascinating. I know several patients at the treatment center who have gone through similar procedures.” She cleared her throat and hesitated before adding, “I also read that you saved a fellow Marine’s life.”
Now it was his turn to shift uncomfortably. Talking about the effects that nightmarish day had had on his own life was one thing, but remembering how close his friend and comrade had come to losing his life was another. “He lost a finger on his right hand and suffered wounds to forty percent of his body, but he walked away.”
“That’s admirable.”
“Right place, right time, that’s all.”
“Not sure everyone would see it that way,” she said, her voice a little softer, and he sensed a small crack in her impenetrable wall.
But he’d talked about himself enough. If he was on the clock, which he suspected he was, he wanted to learn as much about her as possible. “What you do is admirable. Other than organizing the fundraising efforts, what else does your role at the Burn Treatment Center involve?”
As she discussed her role and involvement in the organization, she visibly relaxed. She spoke confidently and easily about the programs and the goals of the organization, and her passion for her job shone through.
And damn if that didn’t make her that much more desirable. He could spend the whole evening just listening to her. Watching those beautiful pink lips move without pause for breath and the look of compassion and empathy in her eyes when she spoke about her patients had him completely engaged.
“The summer camp program is still relatively new, but every year there’re more and more kids who attend. A lot of them are survivors who love to go and help spread hope to those still trying to cope with their recent accidents.”