Too Sweet (Boys of Lake Chapel)

8. Joey

Chapter 8

Joey

We come upon a clearing, and I don’t know where to look first. The inky black night sky is punctuated by dozens of stars and wispy clouds, but it’s the setup in front of me that takes my breath away.

A warm glow from the solar-powered lights along the ground is mirrored by strands of twinkle lights draped between posts. The little glimmers of illumination surround a shiny, perfectly smooth surface, the glassy area in sharp contrast to the dark brush that covers most of the forest floor.

I whip my head around to gauge Decker’s reaction—only to meet his obsidian gaze and realize he’s solely focused on me.

A beat of silence passes. When he raises both eyebrows expectantly, I finally string together a coherent thought.

“What is this?” I whisper. I look back to the clearing, wondering if perhaps I’m dreaming.

Decker grips my hand, guiding me a few steps forward.

“It’s an ice-skating rink. I made it for you.”

I halt, causing Decker to rebound back. Red creeps up his neck and flushes his cheeks in the most uncharacteristic way. I nearly lose my balance, and I’m not even standing on ice yet.

“You made this—for me?”

Decker’s jaw ticks, but he nods. “It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, Josephine.” He pauses, lips pursing like he’s resisting the urge to say something else. With a quick shake of his head, he adds, “I wanted to do something special for you.”

I snort, then hold out one arm. “We could have watched a movie, Cap. Instead, you built me an ice rink?”

When and how did he have time to do this?

He closes the space between us, tipping my chin up with two fingers. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to be the one responsible for the look on your face right now.”

Tenderly, he bends low, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

“You deserve every happiness, Josephine. My life’s purpose is to figure out new ways to make you smile.”

Giddiness whooshes through me as I let his words sink in. I can’t believe he did this. It’s over-the-top and extravagant and yet so sweet and unassuming. I’m so enchanted I feel unsteady on my feet.

The second I think it, I sway forward. Although, of course, Decker doesn’t let me fall. With a firm grasp on both my arms, he ensures I’m stable before capturing my lips and kissing me again.

Love drunk.

Decker Crusade has officially made me love drunk.

“Wait.” I look over to the rink, then tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Our exhalations dance together to form little clouds. Watching the wisps swirl between us reminds me that we’re standing out in the cold. I’m warm from the inside, filled with so much love I can hardly sort through it all.

“Is that some sort of lake or pond?” I don’t remember there being a body of water here. I catch my lip between my teeth, eyeing the smooth surface of the ice with a bit more skepticism this time. It’s cold, but it’s not that cold. Little Women (Winona’s Version) is one of my comfort movies. I’m not about to pull an Amy and slip into icy waters.

With the pad of his thumb, Decker releases my bottom lip from between my teeth.

“Do you really think I would ever allow you to skate on a frozen body of water, Siren?”

Both my eyebrows shoot up in defiance. Husband or not, this man doesn’t allow me to do anything.

He catches on quickly and corrects himself a second later.

“I didn’t mean allow. I just meant…” He swipes a hand through his hair, agitated. “Come this way.” He guides me toward a bench along the frozen surface. Beside it, there’s a large outdoor storage container that looks like something where firewood might be stored. Decker nods toward the bench, and I sit. Then he pulls out his phone and opens up an app.

“There’s a cooling element and liner at the base of the rink. All five inches of water are frozen solid. Kylian made sure I can monitor and adjust the temperature from my phone. There’s no natural water source underneath the ice because I would never put you in that kind of danger. I came out here earlier to make sure everything was set. I’ve been working on this since Christmas, and I’ve got it all down to a science.”

Okay then.

That only leaves me with one last concern.

Worrying my lip, I peer up at my husband once more. He did all this for me—and it’s romantic and so thoughtful—but there’s a good chance it might all be in vain.

“I’ve never ice-skated before,” I admit quietly.

Decker’s face softens with the confession. He kneels before me, then takes both my gloved hands in his.

“Do you want to try? I think you’ll enjoy it. And I promise I won’t let you fall.”

His subtle vote of confidence is all I need.

“I’ll try it,” I confirm with a nod.

He opens the storage trunk and procures two pairs of ice skates. Both pairs are black and clunky—more like rollerblades than the pretty white ice skates I was envisioning.

He must notice the look of confusion on my face. Holding them up, he explains, “Hockey skates. These have more ankle support and are easier to learn on.”

Then he proceeds to ease my boots off one at a time and lace up the skates. Once he’s checked the lip and tightened the laces—twice—he gets to work putting on his own set.

He stands with ease, positioning himself in front of me and offering both hands.

I give myself a little pep talk, then let Decker help me to my feet. Stumbling immediately, I cling to his forearms and curse under my breath.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

I meet his gaze and seethe when it registers that he’s on the brink of laughing at me.

“You just have to get your bearings. Come on. Once we’re on the ice, it’ll be easier.”

Easier, it is not.

This is ridiculous. Nothing about it is fun. I’m taking choppy little baby steps like the ice has personally offended me while desperately clinging to my husband. My ankles hurt, and my thighs are burning. What about this is supposed to be fun, exactly?

“Okay, let’s try something else,” he finally suggests.

I would side-eye him if I wasn’t so afraid of throwing myself off balance. “Unless that something else is sitting down, I’m not particularly interested.”

He’s come to a full stop in the middle of the rink, meaning I’m not moving anymore either. “Steady on your skates,” he instructs.

With a deep breath, I find my balance. That doesn’t stop me from squirming and digging my gloved hands into Decker’s arms.

“Okay, now loosen your death grip and hold my hands.”

My eyes shoot up to his. Like hell am I going to loosen anything right now.

This time he doesn’t bother holding in his laughter. “You can do this, Siren. You’re making it harder on yourself by clinging to me.”

“I thought you liked it when I’m clingy,” I quip.

He raises both eyebrows and offers a hum of contentment. “You’re not wrong. But I want you to prove to yourself that you can do this.”

With a groan, I blow a few stray hairs out of my eyes.

Decker’s gaze narrows, his mind working overtime. Then he straightens a fraction, like something has clicked.

“Actually, I want you to prove to me that you can do this. Come on, Josephine. Show me what you’ve got.”

A fire lights inside me.

Ugh.

It’s a natural response. Truly second nature. Leave it to Decker to motivate me with a challenge.

“Okay,” I huff out. “I can do this.”

I gingerly work my hold on him lower, pausing when I have his wrists in my hands, then pushing forward until my hands are resting on top of his upturned palms.

He curls his fingers, and I follow suit so we’re locked together, even if he has almost no grip on me.

“Bend your knees, baby. Eyes on me. Here we go.”

Before I can object, he glides backward. How he can skate backward is absolutely beyond me.

I focus on his face, just like he asked, and try to keep my knees loose as I let his momentum carry me forward.

The urge to squeeze my eyes closed is strong. But Decker holds my gaze, his animated expression dishing out assurances and praise that keep me going.

“Hold on,” he murmurs.

That’s all the warning I get before we’re turning—oh gosh, it’s a sharp turn—whipping along one side of the rink.

“Decker!” I scream. Though I feel like I’m falling, our momentum keeps me upright.

His laughter rings out through the night. “I’ve got you,” he assures me for the dozenth time.

He pulls me all the way across the rink, and this time, it’s not quite so scary.

Then he circles us around again. And again. And again.

Cold air whips around us, but all I see, all I feel, all I care about is the warmth blossoming inside me at this moment.

I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.

Laughing, I tip my head back as far as I dare without throwing myself off balance. The stars above us twinkle like they’re in on this secret. The lights strung around the rink dance in my periphery, their glow an exact match for the effervescent lightness warming me from the inside out.

For every heartache and hardship, we’ve persevered and come out stronger.

For every hurdle we’ve just barely cleared over the few months we’ve had together, we’ve survived and come out steadier.

There’s not a single doubt in my heart or mind that this man loves me to the very core of who I am. I feel it in the way he looks at me. In the way he cares for me. In the way he nurtures my spirit, builds me up, and puts in the work every single day.

“One more minute,” Decker warns.

My thighs are burning, I’m cold down to the very marrow of my bones, and I can feel my heartbeat in my throat. But despite the way my body protests, I don’t want to stop. I could stay out here forever, him and I.

I’ll never forget this night. I’ll never take for granted the way this man loves me so well.

On the final lap, Decker holds my gaze, the question clear in his eyes.

I catch my lip between my teeth, unsure.

“You’ve got this, Siren,” he encourages, giving me one of his rare megawatt smiles.

With a quick exhale and a subtle nod, I consent.

I’ve got this.

And even if I don’t, Decker’s right there. He won’t let me fall.

With the slowest of movements, almost like he’s caressing my palm instead of letting go, he releases me. I have enough momentum that I glide forward several feet. He skates faster, leaving more space between us for me to close all on my own.

Gracelessly, I slam into him to stop. We’re both laughing as we try to stay upright.

“You did it,” he praises, rubbing his cold nose against the length of my jaw. The contact sends a shiver through me, his icy exterior in juxtaposition with my flushed face.

“I did it,” I whisper in disbelief.

Decker guides me over to the bench and helps me sit, then makes quick work of removing my skates. Before he can stand, I scoot forward, wrapping my arms around him and burrowing my face into his neck.

“I loved this,” I confess, sincerity drenching my every word.

“I love you,” he replies. He swaps out his skates and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s get you inside, Siren. It’s late, and you’ve got to be freezing.”

I don’t comment, because I honestly don’t mind. As much as I griped about the weather on our way out here, every single second of this experience was worth it.

On the journey back up to the cabin, I wrap my arms around his bicep. “Do you think we’ll have another chance to come out here this weekend?”

He gives me a satisfied smile. “Possibly.”

“Oh! What if the guys come too?” I wonder if there are enough skates for everyone.

“That’s a less likely scenario,” Decker hedges.

Before I can ask why, he goes on.

“Kylian hates ice-skating. I’m sure he can present a whole diatribe as to why. Locke might be amenable, but he’s in really good shape now and hasn’t had a flare up for weeks.”

Shit. I should have thought of that.

“K can’t risk injury ahead of the draft.”

Damn. Should have thought of that too.

“Besides,” Decker adds, softer now. “I was hoping maybe this could be our thing.”

My heart floats in my chest. I cuddle up closer, hold my husband a little tighter.

Our thing.

I love the sound of that. Just like I love living life with this man.