Snowbound With The Hockey Star

Chapter 9

Getting Leon back inside was hard because he wanted to play out the whole day, but the storm was really bad, and it's impossible for somebody to play out the whole day and not catch a fever.

The only way to get him to agree to come in was to tell him that we were going to play any game that he wanted inside which was more torturous.

I found myself, the woman who is usually meticulous, everything in place, every surface spotless, building a place with sheets and blankets, and I was simply laughing.

Luca using his powerful arm to hold up the ceiling while Leon assigned us roles was ridiculously funny but he looked anything but annoyed.

“Daddy is the King, and Auntie Ava is the Dragon Queen who protects the treasure!” Leon announced.

“The Dragon Queen?” I chuckled, adjusting a pillow. “I think I can handle that title.”

When the fort finally collapsed in a heap of soft fabric, we went down with it, ending up in a mess on the carpet. Leon was giggling so hard he couldn't breathe. I looked up to find Luca’s eyes on me with a genuine smile spreading across his mouth.

In that moment, the world outside the blanket fortress, my ruined wedding, the betrayal, the s****l tension between us. None of that mattered.

Later, the chaos moved to the kitchen. Leon wanted cookies, and Luca was convinced that baking was not his strongest suit, so Leon thought I could do it because he believed a fictional Queen and I didn't want to disappoint him.

I have been in Michelin-starred kitchens, but I've never actually baked. I was messy, awkward, and surprisingly terrible at cracking eggs. But it was fun.

Leon was mixing the dough and soon, there was flour on the countertops, on the floor, and liberally smudged across my cheek. Luca leaned against the doorframe, sipping coffee, watching us. I don't know why his looking at me made me uncomfortable because he did the same thing when we were playing in the snow, and maybe he just wants to keep an eye on me so that I don't do anything to his son, but there was too much intensity in those eyes.

I caught his eye when I was trying to wipe a streak of dough off Leon’s nose. There was that heat, yes, the undeniable physical pull that made my stomach clench. But now it was layered with something else, a flicker of surprise, a hint of deep, unsettling possessiveness.

I quickly turned away from him, my heart pounding with a rhythm that had nothing to do with kneading dough.

The evening settled in and Leon was finally asleep, it was a long but thankfully exciting day. The oven was off, the kitchen was mostly clean, and the storm was back to raging full force, and this time it was rattling the heavy windowpanes.

Luca and I sat in front of the fireplace. The silence wasn't awkward despite the fact that we spent the whole day avoiding saying a word to each other. It was comfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

I wrapped my hands around my mug of l tea, watching the fire. I really tried to keep my thoughts in and I knew the danger of what I was about to do, but I'm naturally curious and in this case I'm just tired of the silence.

“Leon mentioned this was her favorite place,” I said softly, not looking at him, relying on the crackling fire to carry the words. “His mother.”

I felt Luca shift beside me, his long legs stretching out toward the warmth. He took a slow breath. I was expecting anything because firstly it's none of my business and secondly it's something that still hurts him.

"It was," he confirmed, his voice low and raspy. "Her parents owned it. She loved being here. She was wild and vibrant."

He trailed off. I didn’t press. I just waited. He opened up to me even when he didn't have to, and I appreciate that.

"It felt right to bring him here," He continued, his gaze fixed on the brightest tongue of flame. "It’s how I keep her close. She’s everywhere in this cabin. Her books, the mismatched mugs, the way the fire smells. Every corner holds her memory."

He paused again, and when he spoke next, his voice was raw, stripped of control. "The first 4 years, I just avoided coming here because it reminded me of her, but my son deserves to know his mother and what she loved. But as for me, I have to live with the memories of the woman that I loved."

His honesty was painfully and equally exactly what I need because I've always considered love a weakness. Loving somebody so much that life without them isn't worth it is terrible because when I look at Luca, I see a man who wouldn't be here if it weren't for Leon. At least unlike my father, he held on to what she left him, but my father pushed me the way, and I don't blame him for that because he lost the woman that he loved more than anything in the world.

“I understand that,” I murmured.

I felt it was also unfair for me not to share a peace of myself because I clearly made him remember the past so I decided to distract him.

“My life is built on transactions, everything has been a show. The right school, the right connections, the right fiancé. I learned very quickly that vulnerability is a weakness. So I built an armor around my heart, and I thought that it was perfect.” I was sharing a part of myself that I've never shared with anybody.

“I've never learned how to just-- be,” I finished, pushing the tea in my mug. “I don't remember the last time I've laughed more than I have today or been anything but perfect.”

Luca shifted, moving his large hand from his knee to the space between us. His fingers brushed the throw blanket around us.

He saw the polished woman, yes, but now he knew the scared girl beneath the façade. And I saw the strong, protective father who was crumbling under the weight of his own grief.

The physical attraction returned, hot and intense. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the air thick with unspoken promises and powerful conflicts.

He leaned forward, slowly, cautiously, breaking the space between us.

He didn't touch me, but his eyes dropped to my lips, confirming what we both knew: we were heading toward a repetition of the night before.