Jackie

Outfit Number Eight was the winner: a white angora turtleneck with my magic pants—a stretchy black pair that were both comfy and flattering. The floor of my walk-in closet was filled with the first seven rejected outfits. “Wear something warm and comfortable,” Leo had said. That was a challenge when I was trying to look sexy as well.

At least I had nice underwear on. I had spent way too much money on a navy lace bra and panty set after Brent left, hoping to wear them when he came back. What a dummy. It would have taken more than lingerie to fix our marriage. It would have taken marriage counselling, but he’d been adamant about not wanting to do that. So I’d gone alone. Of course that hadn’t helped our marriage, because I could never fully explain why Brent left in the first place, so the therapist could only counsel me on what changes I could make to myself. But Dr. Veol had helped me to get through all the turmoil of the split and made me focus on building a positive relationship for the sake of the kids.

I gave myself a mental head slap. Now was definitely not the time to think about Brent. I needed to think about Leo. But thinking about Leo was making me very nervous. I’d gone out on exactly two dates since my divorce was finalized. One was some guy that Wendy had fixed me up with, who turned out to be about sixty and mega-boring. The other was a guy I’d met at an art supply seminar. He was teaching the seminar and demonstrating acrylic mediums. We’d gone for coffee afterwards and had a nice time, but there wasn’t really a spark. I got some free acrylic medium though.

Leo, on the other hand, was giving off more sparks than a sparking sparkler thing. When he had asked me out, I’d felt hypnotized. Like I would say yes to whatever he wanted. He was more persuasive than pushy though. And he had a degree in psychology, right? So maybe he knew exactly what I wanted and all the right buttons to press. That must be why he was a good coach. Or maybe I had given myself away with all the drooling at the sight of his body. Was that why I was putting on nice underwear? Because even in my most partying days, I had never slept with anyone on the first date.

There was a knock at the front door, and I ran downstairs. I took one deep breath, tried to relax, and opened the door. Leo was standing there in a black down jacket, jeans, and a grey turtleneck. Even with clothes on, he looked gorgeous.

He moved confidently inside, held my shoulders and did that French cheek-kissing thing. Um, you missed my mouth! I had a whiff of cedar and spice cologne. His hands lingered on my arms.

“Hello, Jacqueline. Nice to see you again.” He took in Outfit Number Eight. “You look great, perfect for tonight.”

I blushed. How long was it since an attractive man had complimented me? Unless you counted my art instructor saying my painting wasn’t a complete loss, it had been years. “You look good too. How did your game go?”

Leo shrugged. “We lost. But there are signs of improvement. However, tonight is my reward for all the hard work.”

I pulled my down jacket from the closet, and Leo took it and held it for me. I managed to find the left armhole after only three tries.

“You should bring gloves and a toque too,” he suggested.

“Really? Most men want women to wear less, but you want more?” Look at me, flirting. Woo hoo.

Leo chuckled. “Later, you’re welcome to wear as little as you want.”

Well, my pretty underwear had just gone up in flames, so that was going to save time undressing later.

“Okay, I’ll have to dig out my hat. Have a seat, and I’ll be right back.”

I held my breath as he looked at my colourful flower painting on the living room wall.

“Nice place,” he said. “So, where are your kids?”

“Oh, it’s their weekend with Brent. Their dad,” I added unnecessarily. Leo was the only person in my life who didn’t know who Brent was. A faint shadow passed over his face—maybe he was thinking that he never got weekends with his daughter?

I found my toque, which Minx had apparently slept on, brushed off the cat hair, and off we went. His car turned out to be a classy sedan instead of a sports car. And unlike my van, the interior was free of granola bar wrappers and lone magic gloves, so that was a big plus. To my surprise, he didn’t head back towards Vancouver, but instead stayed on the North Shore.

“Where are we going?”

He turned towards me and grinned. “It’s a surprise. You like surprises, don’t you?”

I smiled back. “Sure. Who doesn’t?”

Being on a date was so strange. I was the one who planned everything, including dates. Brent would decide what kind of food he felt like eating, and I would find a place and book it.

Then we swung up Capilano Road. Were we going to the Suspension Bridge? Ugh, that was so touristy, but maybe Leo liked that kind of thing. There weren’t many nice restaurants up here, unless we were going to Edgemont Village. Stop stressing, Jackie. I yanked the brakes on my thought process and leaned back on the leather upholstery. It was a surprise, and I wasn’t the mom-in-charge right now.

I exhaled. It felt good to give up control. I had been the worrier for far too long. “How are you enjoying Vancouver so far?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t done that much exploring yet. Joining while the team is still playing means I have a lot to do. Maybe once the season’s done, I’ll have more time. That’s why tonight is nice for me.”

He pulled into the parking lot of Grouse Mountain.

“Oh. This is where we’re going?” I laughed. “We’re not doing the Grouse Grind, are we?”

“What’s that?”

I pointed to the snowy peak of Grouse, which we couldn’t even see from here. “You hike up the mountain. It’s a pretty steep trail. Every summer they have to rescue a few tourists who don’t know what they’re getting into. But the view up top is amazing, and you get to ride the cable car down.”

“Oh yeah, I think the hockey team does that as a part of training camp. Have you done it?”

“Not for years. I’m a trail runner, but I like to keep my runs short.” And relatively flat. These days I was more worried about getting injured, like so many of my running buddies. We got out of the car, and Leo grabbed a gym bag from the trunk.

“Trail running. That’s how you keep in shape.” His gaze raked over me, and I flushed. What was it about this guy? We’d barely touched each other, yet I could feel this intense connection between us. Connection? It was lust, pure and simple.

We took the gondola up the mountain with a bunch of skiers. It was early evening, but the sky was already dark. The higher we got, the more snow was visible on the trees around us. As we looked back towards Vancouver, the city spread out beautifully in front of us. The orange remnants of the setting sun meant we could still see the ocean, Stanley Park, and even a distant wedge of Vancouver Island.

“It’s so beautiful,” I exclaimed. Leo nodded. He was right beside me, so close that I could feel the warmth of his arm under the cushioning of his down jacket.

Once we got to the top, it was like a winter wonderland. There was snow everywhere, the evergreens sagging under their snowy canopies and the ground sparkling in the artificial light.

“Wow. It’s like we’ve come to a completely different land. The snow is so beautiful.”

Leo laughed. “Typical Vancouverite. It’s not quite as beautiful when you have to shovel it off the driveway every morning so you can get to work.”

“Where did you live before? Montréal?”

“My last team was in Albany. You know, in New York State.”

I turned around to look at the city views again. I pointed out a few landmarks to Leo. “It was such a good idea to come up here. I forget how beautiful Vancouver is.”

“Yeah. It’s my first time to see it like this—all laid out in front of me. Helps me to get oriented.”

“It’s easy to drive around Vancouver. The mountains are always north of you. So, are we going to dinner?”

“Nope.” He grabbed my hand and led me off the platform—right to the skating rink.

“What? We’re going skating?” Panic stations! I’d done a lot of in-line skating with the kids but hardly any ice-skating. There was a ton of potential for klutzy embarrassment here.

Leo wore an impish grin. “It’s my theory that the first date should be something I’m good at. Then you’ll be impressed with me.”

I laughed loudly. As if he needed to impress me anymore than he had by wearing a towel. “So, the second date will be something I’m good at?” Then I wondered if I should have even mentioned the second date. What if there wasn’t one? But I was already having a wonderful time, and we’d only gotten here.

He nodded. “That sounds fair.”

After we put on our skates—mine were rentals, but he had his own well-worn ones, we went out on the ice. “Have you skated at all?” he asked. Right now I looked like Bambi on ice.

“Not much,” I admitted. Skating was a great idea though, because it meant that Leo needed to hold onto me. Landing on my butt was not the first impression I wanted to make. He wrapped a strong arm around me and made me feel warm, tingly, and excited.

We did a couple of very slow laps around the rink. It wasn’t a full-sized rink, and luckily there weren’t that many people on it.

“Okay. Time to take the training wheels off,” Leo said. He started to let go of me.

“Noooooo,” I pleaded. “I’m going to fall.”

“You’ll be fine. I can tell you’re steadier already.”

I began to push off, immediately caught an edge on something, and went splat on the ice. I glared up at him. “Ouch. Some coach you are.”

He only laughed. “Okay, just for that, I’m not even going to help you up.”

“You’re going to be sorry for that.” I scrambled up awkwardly and tried to get at Leo. He skated backwards effortlessly. His legs twisted at the hip but the rest of him barely moved. He was right about one thing: doing something he was so good at made him even more desirable. Did I want him to hold me for support or for the sensation of his muscular arm around me?

As I chased him, I finally began to get the hang of skating. It wasn’t that much different from in-line skating, except the lack of useful brakes. Skating was fun too, once I stopped worrying about falling. Leo was still skating backwards with that sexy casualness and watching my improvement.

“See. Easy, right?” He grinned. “I am a good coach.”

“Really? Did you deliberately taunt me just to get me mad?”

He shrugged. “You gotta figure out what motivates people.”

Okay, great. It only took him five minutes to figure out how to motivate me. This guy was dangerous.

Now that I wasn’t all Bambi legs, we could skate side-by-side.

“It looks like you were born on skates,” I told him.

“I liked skating from the moment my father put me on the ice.”

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know. Two?”

We continued to skate around and chat. The beautiful mountain, snow, and lights were like the setting for a heart-warming holiday movie. And finally the movie of my life had another male lead.

My legs were jelly and my fingertips were popsicles when Leo suggested we go for dinner. There were a few restaurants up here, and we chose the casual bistro. We snagged a window-side table and ordered dinner. Leo held up his glass of wine.

“Salut, Jacqueline.” Oh boy, French again. Seriously, this was like a schoolgirl crush. I wanted to act mature and sophisticated, so I needed to keep my tongue from hanging out every time he did something attractive. Which was every thirty seconds.

“So, tell me about your daughter,” I said. That was something I’d never said on a date before, but now it was a natural part of who we were.

Leo’s eyes widened, then he smiled. “I forgot that you already know all about me. Her name is Charlotte.” He pulled out his phone and handed over a photo of her. She was tiny and blonde with a beaming smile.

“Oh my gosh, she’s absolutely beautiful.”

Leo took back the phone. He took a moment to look at the photo and this expression came over his face—a sweet softness. It was only a flash, but the raw emotion struck me. It was so unlike his usual calm and rational manner. Charlotte was clearly the sun that his universe rotated around.

“She’s mad at me right now. She was supposed to visit me for her March Break, but that was when I was in Albany and I could drive up and get her. Now she’d have to fly and the airlines won’t let any child under eight years old fly alone.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Isn’t there anyone who could bring her?”

“It’s too late now. Besides, I’ll be on a road trip. But she’ll be coming this summer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sophie—her mother, my ex—is getting married in June. Then she and Wes are going on a big sailing trip from Hawaii to San Diego. They’re gonna be gone for a month. So we decided Charlotte could spend July with me. At first, it wasn’t a big deal because I usually go back to Montréal every summer anyway. But now, my boss and I wanna do a lot of preparation for the new season, so rather than flying back and forth all summer, I decided to have Charlotte stay here with me.”

He shrugged and took a sip of wine. “Sophie’s been kind of stressed lately with the wedding and work. Charlotte’s excited. She’s never been to Vancouver, and she wants to see whales.”

“Well, the Aquarium has Belugas.”

“Naw, she wants to see killer whales. I’ll have to find out how to do that.”

“We went on a whale watching trip years ago, and it was great. I’ll dig up the information for you. You want to make sure you get a reputable tour company.”

Leo smiled. “That would be great, Jackie. Thank you.”

“Anytime. If you need any Vancouver info, I’m your woman. I have this ‘bible’ of local information.” Ugh. I really needed to shut up. I was trying to project femme fatale not Vancouver Tourism rep.

“Well, actually, there is something I’ve been worried about.” He leaned forward. “When Charlotte gets here, I’m gonna have to work some of the time, so I was wondering what to do with her then. In Montréal, I have a big family—we are six kids—so my mother or sisters are always around to take care of her. But nobody can come out here for a month.”

Being a mom, FTW! This was my area of expertise. “You could get a temporary nanny or maybe a university student to look after her for the summer. Or if you have some flexibility around your hours, you could sign her up for day camps. That way she’s busy for most of the day, but they usually break around 3:00 or 4:00, so you’d have to pick her up then. I think the Aquarium even has a program. Or there are camps that do art, drama, sports, music, pretty much anything. What is she interested in?”

“She loves cats. Really, all kinds of animals,” he confessed again. “Other than that, she likes normal kid things. But she’s a little on the shy side, so a big group of strangers might not be the best thing for her.”

“Okay. I’ll think about this. I can email you some options.” It struck me that he might not know his daughter that well since they lived in different cities.

“Jackie, thank you so much. The hockey part I know, but dealing with all this kid stuff in a new city is not my expertise.”

I nodded. While it was nice to be appreciated, this date felt like it had taken a turn back into the late days of my marriage when all we had to talk about was the kids or Brent’s work. There was a lull in the conversation as we both looked out at the glittering lights of the city.

“Does Charlotte play hockey?” I wondered. Hannah had made some noises about playing hockey a couple of years ago, but decided to stick with soccer.

Leo laughed. “No, Sophie put her foot down. She’s not a big hockey fan. Charlotte’s a good skater though.”

“My son plays hockey.”

“What position?”

“Well, he’s all over the place.” Last year’s coach had him playing defence, but Tristan liked to score goals, like all the kids. “He’s having a tough season, and I’m glad it’s almost over.”

Leo nodded. “Does he love hockey?”

“I don’t know. He used to.” The truth was that hockey was tied up with Tristan’s feelings for Brent. Brent was the hockey dad who took him to practice and helped coach. Now he was confused. He wanted to be good, but the whole routine was different. I couldn’t tie his skates tight enough, and I didn’t know the right things to say after a loss. It was halfway through the season before he even told me that his dad always took him to Tim Horton’s after games. I was learning, but it wasn’t the same.

Leo leaned back in his chair. “This is what I’d do. After the season, maybe a month after, you ask your kid if he wants to play the next season or take a year off. Then do what he says—no matter how good he is. The next year, you can ask if he wants to play again.”

I nodded. “I think there’s a waiting list though. So maybe he couldn’t go back.”

“Probably not as he gets older. More kids drop out than join. The thing is: the best players are motivated inside.” Leo motioned to his broad chest in the grey ribbed sweater. A memory flashed of how great he looked underneath his clothes. “If you force him to go now, he’ll end up hating hockey. But if he feels like he’s free to choose....” His words trailed off.

Suddenly I was aware I was asking a professional coach about my kid’s house league problems. “Well, it’s not like he’s going to play pro hockey or anything.”

“Jackie, that doesn’t matter. Playing hockey is good for everyone. You make good friends as a kid because you all go through things together and it builds your character. Even if you only end up playing beer league with your buddies, it’s all good. You have fun, you work like a team—these skills help you with school, with work, everything.”

“Okay. Thank you. That’s exactly what we’ll do then.” I smiled at him. Of course he would think that hockey was the most important thing.

After dinner, we walked around outside, but everything was closed. Even the grizzly bears were asleep. But there was still snow twinkling under the strings of light. It was all so beautiful, and I pulled out my phone to take a few photos. Maybe I could try painting snow someday, but it seemed challenging.

“Thank you so much,” I said.

He gave me a curious look, so I explained, “For letting me experience my city in a new way. I’ve been in a rut—doing the same things over and over.”

“Yeah, I’ve moved so much that I don’t waste any time. When I go somewhere, I put together a list of things I want to see and do, then I do them.”

I laughed. “I can’t believe that skating on top of Grouse Mountain made your list. Skating is what you do all the time.”

He turned towards me and took both my hands in his. “Maybe not the skating—but seeing this view with a beautiful woman. Well, that would be on the top of any man’s list.”

My insides melted completely. So freaking romantic. I lifted my face, and he leaned closer—his sharp features blurring as his lips met mine. His kiss was exactly like him—firm, experienced, demanding. It was the beautiful unfamiliarity of kissing someone new. Not knowing when his mouth would open and capture my breath, not knowing when that thrust of tongue would happen, and most of all, not knowing what would happen next. I pushed my body against his, enjoying every new sensation and the warmth of his arms wrapped around me. Snow, what snow? All I felt was heat.