Roman (Cold Fury Hockey #7)(41)
“Hmmmm,” I say in contemplation.
“And yet here I am, freezing my ass off on your front porch,” she points out sweetly.
“You’re not quite on the porch yet,” I counter. “But how about getting that ass up here and rectifying it.”
“So I’m invited in?” she asks coyly.
“You’re invited to the top of my porch,” I say sternly, although my lips are curving to indicate I find her adorable.
“Well, in that case,” she exclaims with excitement as she bounds up the three steps, coming to a hopping stop right in front of me. “Here I am.”
Shaking my head, I offer an amused smile and murmur, “I don’t know whether to kiss you or spank you.”
Her eyes flash hot and her quick reaction to my suggestion of a spanking causes my body to tighten all over. I almost groan out loud when she cocks her head and asks, “Is spanking a serious option?”
I mutter a curse word in Czech under my breath, which she finds hilarious as evidenced by her giggle. Curling my hand around the back of her neck, I merely turn and push her toward my open door, releasing my hold on her as she steps inside.
She turns to face me in my foyer, her ukulele in one hand and a soft expression on her face. “I’m really sorry, Roman. That I reacted so hastily to Gray’s advice to stay away from you.”
And fuck if that doesn’t get me somewhere right in the center of my chest. I’ve had reason for people to apologize to me in the past for whatever reason, but I’ve never had those words leveled at me with such sincerity before.
“What did Brian say that made you come to your senses?” I ask, because her voicemail said he was the reason she was reaching out to me. I had been at practice and had missed her call, but I was grinning from ear to ear in the locker room when I’d listened to it. I didn’t call her back, but sent her—as she noted—a cryptic text that simply said, Come by around 6 P.M. and you’ll find out.
Some might think that was mean, not letting Lexi off the hook easily, but I’m confident she took that text exactly as I meant it. A joking gesture to let her know I wasn’t mad at her. If I was, I would have told her her bag was on the front lawn. And Lexi clearly took it the way I knew she would, as she showed up at my door with her ukulele, knowing I’d be charmed by her and it.
Lexi chuckles and answers my question. “Well, I had no clue Brian was so wise, and there were lots of words exchanged, but he basically reminded me to think for myself and to follow my heart.”
“Wise words indeed,” I observe.
“So am I forgiven?” she asks solemnly.
“There was nothing to forgive,” I tell her truthfully and without the generalized teasing that’s been going on since she got here.
“Well damn,” she says morosely, and with sad eyes continues, “If there’s nothing to forgive, then that means I technically did nothing wrong, which then translates into no spankings, right?”
Another muttered Czech curse as I shake my head at her. “You’re so bad.”
“Well, Gray says you are too, but here I am,” she quips.
Laughing, I again put my hand around the back of her neck and guide her toward the living room and then the kitchen. “Before we get to spankings—and I’m sure there are some in our future—I’m starving and I’ve got dinner ready. Let’s eat.”
“Oh my God,” Lexi says on a deep inhale as we enter the kitchen. She pulls away from my hand, sets her ukulele on the small dining table, and walks zombielike toward the food I have laid out on the island counter. “What in the holy heaven is this delicious-looking stuff?”
Grinning, I step up to the counter and point to the items on the platter. “This is vep?ová, which you Americans fondly call roasted pork. This is knedlíky, which are bread dumplings, and here is zelí, which is your basic sauerkraut.”
“You cooked all this?” she asks as she looks at me in amazement.
Nodding, I tell her, “I wanted to share a traditional Czech meal with you, and this happens to be my favorite.”
“You can actually cook?” she asks with even more amazement.
“In my house you learned to cook or you didn’t eat,” I tell her, and then instantly regret it the minute her eyes turn sorrowful, so I quickly add, “All I mean is that my parents worked so hard and were always so busy, and along with my hockey schedule, there weren’t a lot of family meals.”
“Oh,” she says softly as her eyes go back to the platter of food. “But still…this is incredible.”
“So you’re impressed?”
“You’re so getting laid,” she says dramatically. “But probably not tonight. Well, I’m not sure about that. I should taste the food first before I commit.”
And I laugh again. A deep belly laugh, because she’s funny and cute, she pulls something from me I didn’t know existed, and being around her makes me feel fucking good. There’s no doubt I’m going to get laid at some point, and I honestly don’t give a shit if it’s tonight or in the foreseeable future.
—
“Favorite movie?” Lexi asks as she sits on the opposite end of the couch from me, casually strumming her ukulele. Not really playing a song, but just different chords as we talk.