Melting Ice Read online

  It was 11:47 PM, and she was alone. What a way to start the New Year. Not that she hadn’t had invitations. She had. She’d turned down every one of them.

  Next year would start in thirteen minutes, and she swore she’d make it her best yet. This would be the year she quit doing what others expected and instead followed her dreams.

  She’d dropped out of the U-Dub—what the locals called the University of Washington—last quarter after finally having the guts to stand up to her over-bearing and controlling big sister. With a year-and-a-half left in pre-med, she’d admitted to herself that she hated every second of it. Her three sisters considered her an idiot for throwing everything away to work with horses. She’d always been the smart one in the family, and from their point of view, she’d done a really dumb thing.

  Avery didn’t agree; even after butting heads with big sister Izzy, she knew she’d made the right decision, one she should’ve made years ago.

  Horses were her first true love. For as long as she could remember, she’d been drawn to the large, graceful animals who gave so much to those they trusted. Her family didn’t understand her obsession with horses, and she didn’t expect them to understand, only to accept her decision. Her twin sister, Emma, and her middle sister, Bella, were okay with it. But only recently had oldest sister Izzy grudgingly accepted Avery’s decision, even though she didn’t necessarily like it.

  For the majority of her life, Avery had sacrificed every penny she made for her riding. While other women her age bought clothes and attended concerts and parties, Avery bought new riding breeches, bridles, and saddle pads. She spent obscene amounts of money on clinics taught by Olympic level riders. She didn’t own her own horse because she couldn’t afford a nice horse. She had to be satisfied with riding training horses, knowing they could—and would—be ripped out from underneath her at any moment if their owners decided to move to another trainer or sell the animals. She tried not to get attached, but treating horses as a business never worked well for her. She loved each and every one of “her” horses. It broke her heart every time one of them moved on.

  Someday she’d buy the horse of her dreams, and nothing and no one would ever take that horse away from her.

  Yeah, and someday Prince Charming would sweep her off her feet and buy her an international-caliber horse. Only a girl would have to date for that to happen, wouldn’t she?

  Avery didn’t have a boyfriend. She didn’t have time. Most guys wouldn’t put up with playing second fiddle to a horse, and that’s exactly what they’d be. Horses came first, and everything else took a backseat. That was the way it had to be, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Avery’s cell phone rang, and her sister Bellani’s name crossed the screen. Bella was the family wild child and proud of it. Sometimes Avery envied her, other times not so much. She answered the phone, hearing her sister laughing and shouting to be heard above whatever crowd she was in.

  “—just wanted to—a happy New Year.”

  “I can barely hear you,” Avery shouted back.

  “Just—minute.”

  Avery heard muffled shouts and a door slamming shut.

  “Sorry about that,” Bella said, no longer needing to shout. “I hope like hell you’re out partying and not spending the New Year with those damn horses.”

  “You know me too well.” Avery sighed, not bothering to defend her decisions. It wouldn’t do a bit of good.

  Bella snorted. “Even Emma’s out tonight.” Emma, Avery’s twin, was the quiet, good girl of the family. She lived with Avery in the barn apartment, went to college, worked, and sang in a small group that visited nursing homes and senior centers. Rarely did she go out, yet she’d made an exception tonight and gone out with some equally boring girlfriends. Not that Avery should judge. After all, outside of horses she didn’t have a life either.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m enjoying a quiet New Year’s Eve. Where are you?” Avery steered the conversation away from her lack of a social life.

  “I’m out with Julio.”

  “Julio? Who’s Julio? What happened to Cedric? And Brad?” Years ago Avery had given up keeping track of the steady parade of men in and out of Bella’s life. Bella never allowed herself to be tied down with one man. She always said too many guys, too little time.

  “I still see them. They’re just booty calls.”

  “They’re all booty calls for you.”

  “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. You should try it sometime. Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

  “I’m not uptight.” Even as she said it, Avery caught herself clenching her jaw and tightening her shoulders.

  Bella laughed as if Avery’s statement was the funniest thing she’d heard in a long time. Avery didn’t find it so funny. “You’re wound so tight, I’m shocked you don’t explode from the pressure. You need to loosen up. Sleep with some guys. It’s not a big deal. Might even help your riding. Surely those horses know you’re uptight.”

  Avery cringed. Her sister had inadvertently hit a nerve. The horses did know she was tense, and her tension negatively affected her ability to get the best out of them. She’d chalked it up to trying too hard.

  Damn.

  What if it went deeper than that? What if she was sexually frustrated? Maybe a vibrator wasn’t always the best answer. Even Sam, her boss, had noticed the tension in her body lately and commented on how she needed to relax.

  “Hey, you still there?” Bella interrupted Avery’s introspection.

  “Yeah.”

  “I have to go. Julio is waiting to get naked. Again.”

  “Sure, thanks for calling. See ya.”

  “And sis?”

  “Yeah?” Avery said.

  “Loosen up. Find a hot man and have recreational sex. Trust me on this. Your horses will thank you.”

  Avery laughed, but Bella had already hung up the phone. Shaking her head at her outrageous sister, she frowned as she considered Bella’s carelessly delivered, yet perceptively accurate, assessment of Avery’s current mental state.

  Avery walked to the doorway of the barn as the Reynolds family set off a small number of fireworks from the deck of their house on the hill. Carson and Samantha “Sam” Reynolds owned the barn where Avery worked. Sam was the head trainer and an aspiring Olympian who’d been long-listed for the team. Carson was a local businessman whose family dated back to 1860s Seattle timber barons. Carson’s brother Brad was the VP of Seattle’s new NHL team, and Avery’s oldest sister, Izzy, was engaged to the team captain, proving it really was a small world.

  Avery walked back into the barn. Grabbing a handful of carrots from a nearby bucket, she strolled down the aisle, giving each horse a treat and a pat on the neck. With their heads hanging over the stall doors, the horses nickered at her. All except one horse, and she saved him for last.

  “Hey, Riot,” she said softly as she leaned on the barn door. He stood in the back of his stall, head down, and eyes half shut. One ear swiveled in her direction. Other than that, he didn’t move.

  Avery sighed and went into the stall. Riot watched her with sad, disinterested eyes. Running a hand across his golden chestnut coat, she put the carrot under his nose. He lipped at it before taking it into his mouth and chewing slowly and deliberately.

  Riot came to the barn a month ago as a sale horse from California. His current owner bought him in an IRS auction. Other than that, no one knew much of anything about him. If Riot had been a person, they’d send him to a shrink or put him on anti-depressants, but he was a horse. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t tell them what was wrong, or why he seemed so sad and apathetic. He had all the talent in the world, but he didn’t have any enthusiasm for anything, not even grain or treats. Getting him to eat was like trying to fatten up an anorexic teenager.

  Yet, Avery had seen flashes of brilliance from him, seen moments when he showed off his incredible gaits and talent, but such moments were fleeting and rare. She’d made it her personal mission to find a
way to make him a happy horse again. If only his current owner would give her enough time to do the job correctly.

  Maybe Bella was right. Maybe Avery needed to find a hot one-night stand just for fun to suck the tension out of her so she could better relate to the horses. A tense rider made for a tense, unhappy horse. Until she could relax, her four-legged partners would suffer, especially Riot.

  And for Avery, it was all about the horses.

  Chapter 2—That Damn Dog

  That damn dog. As soon as Isaac opened the door to bring in groceries, the little shit ran between his legs and took off after some invisible prey, streaking across the neighbor’s pasture faster than any fat boxer had the right to run. He disappeared out of sight, but Isaac heard him barking.

  He yelled for the mutt, knowing it was pointless. While Hal always came back, they’d only lived here a couple days. Isaac doubted the animal was smart enough to find his way home.

  With a sigh, he put his groceries on the porch and jogged after the dog, knowing the fat boxer would tire pretty fast, and Isaac would eventually catch up with him.

  Instead of taking the meandering gravel road that wound past the neighboring horse barn, Isaac jogged across the field Hal had streaked through only a minute ago. He cursed under his breath as the wet, knee-high grass soaked his jeans. Then he stepped in a puddle of water, splashing it all over his clothes. His shoes squished as he ran.

  Damn, ill-mannered dog.

  The dog, a drooling, snorting boxer, hated him. No wonder. The two of them were way too much alike. He used to accuse his girlfriend of getting the dog because he reminded her of Isaac.

  The thought of Jenny sobered him and weighed him down. He slowed his pace to a walk, feeling slightly ill.

  Hal had been orphaned after the loss of Jenny, Isaac’s on-again-off-again girlfriend since high school. She’d been the only somewhat constant in his sorry life except for hockey. In their dysfunctional way, they’d loved each other. Not that Isaac had much experience with love, but he’d cared about Jenny. She’d been the most important person in his life next to his sister until that fateful night three years ago when everything changed forever.

  Now Hal was his constant reminder of what a total douchebag loser he really was, and how he systematically destroyed the people in his life who mattered most.

  Hal and he fit together well. They were both assholes and didn’t like anyone. He swore the damn dog blamed him for what happened to Jenny, which made five of them, counting his two brothers and his father.

  Blowing out a breath and watching it float away in the cold air, Isaac shook off his relapse into self-recrimination, and picked up the pace again, driven by fear that something might happen to Hal. He was steaming by the time he jogged into the gravel parking area surrounding his neighbor’s large barn. A city boy from birth, he breathed through his mouth rather than inhale the strong scent of horse manure.

  Isaac paused in front of the barn and closed his eyes for a moment, sending up a silent plea to whoever the hell listened to those kinds of things—if anyone did—that grouchy Hal hadn’t done any damage to the horses, people, or himself.

  Out of options, he walked into the large barn, pausing while his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the long aisle. Horses poked their heads over their stall doors and made these weird noises, almost like they were happy to see him. No one was ever happy to see him. Not anymore.

  Isaac stepped farther into the barn. A small blonde girl brushing a huge animal saw him and stopped what she was doing. She stared at him, her eyes huge in her gaunt face, looking like she might run like hell at any moment.

  Isaac halted, keeping his voice steady and calm, so he didn’t scare her off. “Hey, I’m looking for my dog. A boxer. Have you seen him?”

  The teenager chewed on a fingernail and stared at the ground, keeping one hand on the horse’s neck, as if the animal were some kind of lifeline. Isaac didn’t know a thing about horses. Did they attack when their owners felt threatened like some dogs did?

  Isaac stepped closer, maintaining a safe distance from the horse’s hooves. “Excuse me. Have you seen my dog?” Something in the teenager brought out a rare and long buried protective instinct in him. He didn’t want to hurt her or add to her obvious alarm.

  She glanced up at him, alarm in her eyes. Dropping the brush on the concrete with a clatter, she scurried down the aisle, disappearing through a door and slamming it after her. Isaac scratched his chin. Hell, he’d been decent enough, hadn’t raised his voice, hadn’t been a jerk. For him, he’d behaved like a nice guy.

  Maybe she was deaf or something.

  Definitely or something.

  The door opened again, and a leggy blonde beauty came flying out, heading toward him with fury in every step she took.

  Isaac rocked back on his heels. What the hell? He just wanted to find his dog. This woman marched toward him as if he were a terrorist, and she was a soldier poised to take him down. Not that he was scared—not much scared Isaac, especially when it came to women. If anything, he found her anger amusing and arousing, while he found her hot, really hot, and damn sexy.

  He grinned at her, figuring his rare trademark grin would shoot her down before she got close enough to castrate him. It didn’t. He backed up a step and protected his privates by putting a few hay bales between them.

  The woman—a very attractive, make-a-man-hard-in-a-split-second woman—stopped mere inches from him. She was tall. He was taller. She was bad-ass, he wrote the book on bad-ass. Yet, while he might be famous for his crappy attitude, her attitude trumped his and took no prisoners.

  He liked that.

  Damn, but she could imprison him any time, put him in handcuffs, and tie him to her bed. He’d be all over that scene in seconds and all over her in less time.

  She wore a stained T-shirt tucked into these form-fitting riding pants which hugged every curve. And those boots. She wore knee-high black boots. They were scuffed from hours in the saddle, but they fit like they were made for her legs. What guy wouldn’t get a hard-on ogling a woman dressed like that? Now if only she’d been carrying a riding crop. He’d cream his jeans right there.

  One look and he’d fallen for this woman, or at least fallen for her delectable body and blazing blue eyes. Women didn’t do this to him. Ever. But she had him from the second she almost yanked that door off its hinges and stalked toward him with smoke coming out her ears.

  Lord, help him.

  Isaac instantly went hard. His dick might be fast, but his brain was faster, imagining this angry angel writhing underneath him while he showed her just how hard this real man could ride. Even better, he’d flip over onto his back and let her ride him. He groaned out loud at that thought, which earned him an impressive scowl from her.

  He hadn’t felt this instant attraction to a woman since—since—he visibly shuddered and banished those painful memories from his mind.

  She was the perfect angel to his devil. He wanted her, and in that instant, he knew he’d do anything to have her. Even if she didn’t want him, he’d find a way to convince her because his dick and his body wanted her. Oh, yeah, they wanted her, and who was he to argue with the big guns.

  He grinned—it felt strange to do so, but she had that effect on him. He was one of the meanest, nastiest guys in the NHL, yet she was willing to do battle and take him on.

  And that impressed him more than anything.

  * * * *

  The dickwad who’d scared the crap out of poor Tiffani grinned at Avery. She suspected he used that very grin to disarm a woman and get back in her good graces and her bed. This clueless bastard would get neither from her, despite his rugged good looks, deep blue eyes, and sexy dark stubble that added emphasis to his strong jaw line. Avery flexed her fingers without thinking. She itched to trace a finger along that very jawline.

  He darted a quick look at her hand. For a brief moment the smile slipped off his face. He probably thought she was going to throw a punch. She’d let him kee
p thinking that. This wasn’t about her and her misplaced desire, this was about Tiffani.

  Like a mama bear defending her cub, Avery stopped in front of him, hands on her hips, and glared up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen in her life. The man was oh-so yummy, and he most likely knew it. Avery was tall, standing five-foot-ten in her boots, but he had to be at least six-foot-two and built like an athlete. He wore ratty jeans, a rattier T-shirt, a faded hoodie, and he was the sexiest thing she ever seen. Everything about him screamed trouble.

  She glanced around for backup, just in case the man might not have the best intentions. Tiff would call 911 at the first sign of trouble, and Eduardo should be back any second with a load of hay from the hay barn. Even so, her instincts told her his kind of trouble wasn’t life-endangering but would be just as lethal.

  She turned back to the sexy stranger and took a deep breath, gathering the nerve she’d need to properly dress him down. “What the hell right do you have scaring Tiffani like that?”

  He stopped smiling, but one corner of his mouth quirked in an amused smirk. “Sorry, I didn’t realize she was deaf. I didn’t mean to scare her.”

  “She’s not deaf,” Avery said, not offering any further explanation. Tiffani’s issues were none of his damn business. “And this is private property.”

  “Sorry, I’m looking for my dog.” He didn’t look the least bit contrite.

  “Dog?” She frowned even harder, as it all started to make sense. She’d bet next month’s training income he owned the drooling boxer who had just chased Sam’s expensive show horse all over the paddock before Avery could corral the unruly beast and drag him by his collar into an empty stall.

  “Yeah, a boxer.” He tilted his head, and gave a small shrug, his blue eyes wide with innocence, but his innocent act looked all wrong on him.

  Without a word Avery motioned to him and turned on her heel. She heard his footsteps behind her. She stopped before a stall and peered in. “This dog?” she said as she pointed at the fat, winded dog lying flat on his side on the clean shavings.