“Uh . . . Bo?”

“Okay, fine.” He didn’t want to argue with her. They were having such a good time, why ruin it? And let’s face it, if he hadn’t snuffed the life from her for blowing her nose on his shirt, he had to be crazy about her. That was the only explanation that made sense to him. Of course, how she felt about him, he still didn’t know. “I’ll visit Grigori more often.” Not hard since he just had to do it more than once in ten years to keep his promise, but those were little details she didn’t need to know.

“No, no,” she said, frowning. “I don’t mean—” She stopped skating, bringing him up short. He was impressed by her technique and about to tell her that when she motioned toward the far side of the pond with a small tilt of her head.

Bo looked across the ice . . . and sighed. “Shit.”

They were all standing on the outside of the pond, wearing hockey uniforms from the town’s weekend team. A group of locals who got with other locals to play when the mood struck them. Most of them bears that Bo had grown up with. If this were Ursus County’s main lake, about ten miles from where they were standing, Bo wouldn’t have thought much about the locals showing up. But this pond was on Grigori’s territory, and no one would come out here without an invitation because no one wanted to fuck with Grigori.

Snarling a little, Bo glared down at Blayne. “This is your fault, isn’t it?”

“I thought they’d give me more time to talk you into it.” At least she didn’t try to lie to him.

“Is this why everyone’s been so nice to me today?”

“It was my only stipulation. But I told them I couldn’t promise that you’d definitely do it.”

Which was why they were doing it this way. Bears. Sneaky.

“Blayne Thorpe,” Raymond Chestnut called out. “Is Mr. Important still up for a little friendly game then? Like you said? Or is the tiny feline ready to run off into the woods and hide?”

Blayne scowled and Bo admitted, “Actually, that’s him being nice.”

“Oh.” Her scowled faded. “All right then.” She gazed up at him. “So are you going to play?”

“I really don’t want to.”

“Think of it this way, Bo, a couple of hours out of your life that they’ll remember for the rest of theirs? Is that really too much for you?”

She could have hit him with a crowbar and it wouldn’t have slammed into him with the same force the way her simple words did. Because she was right.

He stroked his hand down her cheek and yelled over his shoulder, “The feline is in.”

The boys cheered, and the blinding grin he got from Blayne made every second of the next few torturous hours worth it.

“But I’ll expect a backrub when we get home,” he told her, skating with her over to the snow and ice covered dirt so he could help her get her skates and pads off.

“Okay,” she replied, “but only if I can be naked when I’m doing it.”

He didn’t know why her words caught him off guard, but he ended up face down on the ice anyway. Shocked, Blayne stared down at him for several seconds before she raised both arms in the air and began singing that song from the movie “Rocky” that she still didn’t know the words to. “Flying somethin’ now . . . Feelin’ somethin’ now . . . lalalala now . . .”

Chestnut skated up behind him and, grabbing hold of the back of Bo’s jersey, lifted him to his feet.

“Don’t worry, Novikov. If that one there wanted to rub me down naked, I’d have tripped over my own skates, too. Although”—he watched Blayne badly skate around the ice—“I’d insist on no singing, if I were you.”

CHAPTER 25

The Canadians showed up to be the opposition. Mostly polars and grizzlies that they’d all known and grown up with over the years.

They decided on positions and agreed to a few basic rules that included no permanent injuries before separating and heading to their team goals.

That was when Bo noticed them. How could he not when it was pretty much the entire town—Ursus County and the local Canadians—sitting around waiting for the game to start. He quickly scanned the crowd and saw Blayne standing by herself. He skated to the edge of the pond and motioned her over.

“What’s this?” he asked when she stood in front of him.

“Um . . .”

He took off his helmet and shook out his hair. “No ‘um.’ What is this?”

“They just showed up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not sure I’m appreciating your tone lately.”

“My tone?”

“It implies I’m not being truthful.”

“Maybe we should ask the chief and my uncle about how truthful you are, she of the crocodile tears.”

“You’re enjoying that way too much.”

“I guess I kinda am. Besides,” he leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, “I like that you have a devious side, Blayne Thorpe.”

Blayne grinned. “Your accent’s coming back.”

“What accent?”

“Now who’s not being truthful?” She stepped away from him and turned.

“No kiss?” he called after her as she walked away, catching everyone’s attention.

Blayne looked at him over her shoulder. “Did you have to yell that?”