Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Estelle
The outdoor rink was straight out of a Christmas movie with twinkling lights strung through snowy pine trees, the scent of hot cocoa and wood smoke drifting from nearby fire pits, and soft holiday music floating through speakers hidden among the branches.
The ice gleamed like polished silver under the blue sky, reflecting the warm glow of lanterns positioned around the perimeter.
A modest crowd of couples glided gracefully across the surface, their laughter mingling with the gentle scrape of blades on ice.
It was perfectly romantic and peaceful, exactly the kind of setting where three massive, tattooed boxers would look completely insane.
"This is going to be amazing," I whispered to Sierra and Isla as we sat at the rink’s edge, still lacing up our skates. "I can't wait to see them try to balance on those tiny blades."
"Connor's going to look like a baby giraffe," Sierra giggled, adjusting her scarf. "All those big muscles and nowhere to put them."
"And Adrian?" Isla grinned wickedly. "He'll probably try to turn it into some kind of performance art. Watch him attempt pirouettes."
We were practically vibrating with anticipation when the guys finally got their skates on and stood.
Every conversation on the rink stopped.
The sight was absolutely surreal: three enormous men, all broad shoulders and intimidating presence, wearing figure skates.
But what made it even more ridiculous was that they moved onto the ice with the confident swagger of men who knew exactly what they were doing.
"Oh, shit," I breathed, watching Jax glide—actually glide—toward us with perfect form. "That was not supposed to happen."
Connor followed, his massive frame somehow graceful as he executed a smooth turn that would have impressed a hockey coach.
And Adrian? The man was practically dancing, spinning, showing off like he'd been born on ice.
The other skaters had stopped to stare, some pointing and whispering.
A group of teenage girls near the concession stand had their phones out, clearly recording the spectacle of three gorgeous, intimidating men who looked like they'd stepped off a magazine cover and onto the ice.
"Wade," I finally realized. "Those Easton family Christmas vacations. I guess they’d learned to skate over the years.”
Of course. Of course they were all secretly ice skating pros on top of everything else.
Jax reached me first, executing a perfect hockey stop that sent a spray of ice shavings across my skates, making me glare at him.
His blue eyes were dancing with amusement as he took in my expression.
"Surprise, princess,” he greeted with that infuriating smirk. "Ready for your lesson?"
Before I could respond, he'd swept me onto the ice with one arm around my waist. I immediately wobbled, my ankles refusing to cooperate, and grabbed onto his biceps with both hands.
"You're such an ass," I muttered, clinging to him as he effortlessly guided us across the ice. "You let us think you couldn't skate."
"Where's the fun in spoiling the surprise?" he replied, pulling me closer so I was practically pressed against his chest.
"Besides, I like having you hold onto me like this. Very dependent. Very sexy."
Heat flooded my cheeks, and not just from the cold air. "Jax, there are people watching."
“And?” he asked, his voice dropping to that low, possessive register that always made me weak—which was particularly dangerous when we were on ice. "They're just jealous they don't get to touch what's mine."
His hands moved to my hips, probably to help with my balance, but his grip was not pure.
When I wobbled again, he steadied me by pulling me flush against him, his thigh sliding between mine in a way that was definitely not appropriate for public ice skating.
"Jax," I warned, but my voice came out breathless instead of stern.
"What?" he asked innocently, even as one hand drifted lower to cup my ass through my jeans. "I'm just making sure you don't fall, princess.”
Around us, I could hear the whispered comments from other skaters:
"Is that guy seriously groping his girlfriend on the ice?"
"God, they're hot though. Look at them.”
"I want whatever she's having."
Jax, of course, was eating up the attention. He spun us slowly, showing off while keeping me plastered against him, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured, "You're blushing. Getting turned on in public?"
"You're impossible," I hissed, but I didn't pull away. Truth was, being held by him like this, surrounded by his strength and heat while he effortlessly controlled our movement across the ice, was incredibly arousing.
"That's not an answer," he teased, his hand squeezing my ass again. "Because I can feel how your body's responding to me, and we both know it has nothing to do with the cold."
Nearby, Sierra was having her own experience with Connor's unexpected skating skills.
True to form, she'd given up any pretense of actually skating and was simply letting him tow her around the rink, her arms wrapped around his muscles while she laughed at her own helplessness.
"This is not how I imagined this going," she called out as Connor pulled her past us, moving with the steady power of a freight train. "I'm just a human-shaped anchor!"
Connor's response was too quiet to hear, but whatever he said made Sierra burst into delighted laughter.
On the other side of the rink, Isla and Adrian were putting on a show that had half the crowd openly staring.
Apparently, Isla had been lying about only being able to skate a little—she was gliding backward while Adrian spun her in a way that looked like a professional ice dance routine.
"Show-offs," I muttered, but I was smiling.
"Says the woman currently being felt up in front of fifty strangers," Jax pointed out with a grin.
"That's your fault!" I protested, but I was laughing too.
The absurdity of it all—us thinking we could embarrass these men, only to discover they were basically ice dancing pros—was too crazy not to find funny.
Plus, the way Jax was holding me, the heat of his body against the cold air, the possessive way he'd claimed me in front of all these people... it was working for me in ways I probably shouldn't admit.
"Having fun yet?" he asked, spinning us again so smoothly I barely felt the movement.
"Maybe," I admitted. "But you're still an ass for not warning us."
"Where would be the fun in that?" He dipped me suddenly, supporting my weight easily as my hair brushed the ice. "Besides, now I get to be your hero, saving you from falling on your pretty little ass."
"My hero?" I raised an eyebrow as he pulled me back up. "More like my tormentor."
"I can be both," he said with that wicked grin. "In fact, I prefer it that way."
The music shifted to something slower, more romantic, and Jax immediately adjusted our pace to match.
Other couples around us were doing the same, turning the ice rink into something resembling a winter waltz.
"Much better," he murmured, pulling me even closer. "Now I can really hold you."
Both his hands were on my waist now, guiding me in a gentle rhythm that was less skating and more swaying on ice. It should have been awkward; I still couldn't really skate, but Jax made it feel effortless.
"You know," I said, looking up into his blue eyes, "this is actually kind of romantic."
"Kind of?" He looked mock-offended. “Princess, I'm literally ice dancing with you in a winter wonderland while Christmas music plays. If this isn't romantic enough for you, I'm going to have to seriously up my game."
"Your game is pretty impressive already," I admitted, then squeaked as he lifted me slightly, my feet leaving the ice entirely for a moment.
"Relax," he laughed, setting me down gently. "I've got you. Always."
The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at me like I was the only person on the rink despite all the attention we were getting, made my heart do little flips.
After a bit more skating, my ankles were beginning to protest.
“Ready for a break?" Jax asked, his breath warm against my ear despite the cold air. "I think you've earned some hot chocolate after our performance."
He guided me off the ice with ease, one arm still secure around my waist as we made our way to the warming hut beside the rink.
The scent of cinnamon and peppermint drifted from the small wooden building, where Christmas lights twinkled in the windows and the promise of warmth beckoned.
"Stay put, beautiful," Jax murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "We'll be right back with sustenance."
Connor and Adrian appeared beside him, both looking amused and slightly windswept from their own skating adventures.
"Don't move," Connor growled quietly to Sierra, who he’d placed beside me on the bench.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied breathlessly.
"Back in five minutes," Adrian called to Isla, who was walking on the floor in her blades just to show off. "Try not to put on too much of a show without us."
The moment the guys disappeared into the warming hut, we girls immediately huddled together on the bench like conspirators.
"Okay," I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear. "So our ice skating plan was a complete bust."
"Total disaster," Sierra agreed, unwinding her scarf with a rueful laugh. "They're all secretly hockey players. How is that fair?"
“We need to up our game," I declared, my mind already racing. "Something that'll catch them completely off guard."
Isla's eyes lit up with mischief as she absently fingered the white ribbon tied around her neck. "I'm thinking... less clothing. Lots of ribbon. Something that'll drive them wild."
The suggestion was loaded with promise and delicious possibility.
"Oh, that's evil," Sierra breathed, her cheeks flushing. "I love it."
"Something that makes them lose control completely," I sighed dreamily, already imagining the look on Jax's face.
We dissolved into giggles, the kind of conspiratorial laughter that spoke of trouble brewing.