Authors: Elizabeth Moynihan
“You could take their bedroom doors off the hinges,” Dani suggested sweetly, stealing a piece of her brother’s toast, and narrowly escaping with all her fingers.
“I like that idea!” Whittaker agreed heartily.
“Being the masochist you are, you would,” Sergei mumbled.
“It’s really not necessary,” Chloe countered.
“Chloe could start sleeping with me,” Dani offered as an alternative.
“No!” Sergei and Chloe yelled at the same time.
“No, what?” Aleksei asked as he came through the backdoor after just having spent two hours on the ice, the smell of bacon and eggs calling his name.
“I refuse to sleep with your son!” Whittaker stated loudly.
“Did he ask you to?” Aleksei asked calmly.
“Hell no!”
“Well that makes me feel better,” Aleksei stated humorously, pulling his wife into his arms, giving her a sound kiss, and patting her bottom lovingly. “Anyone care to fill me in on what’s going on?” he asked, stealing a piece of bacon from the warming plate, and leaning against the counter.
“Look at your son!” Whittaker demanded.
Sergei shook his head, his breath escaping in an exasperated sigh.
“His hair’s still wet and he needs a shave,” Aleksei offered blandly.
“Look at Chloe!” Whittaker shifted his attention to her.
Chloe lowered her head as she concentrated on the food remaining on her plate, doing her best to hide the telltale rash of her encounter with Sergei.
Aleksei shrugged, not knowing what he was supposed to be looking for. “I don’t know. She looks fine to me,” he finally said, tossing his hands in the air in confusion as he tried to figure out what Whit-taker was getting at.
“For Christ’s sake, man. Look at her neck!”
Chloe closed her eyes, wishing she could disappear and then looked up as Aleksei softly called her name.
Aleksei’s eyebrows lifted as he recognized the bright red razor rash that covered her neck, and he didn’t even want to ponder how much lower it extended. “Sergei…” he sighed, shaking his head as he tried to control the urge to laugh, fighting even harder to maintain a stern expression as he caught his wife’s gaze that clearly conveyed her own feelings on the matter. How many times had he done the same exact thing to his wife’s delicate skin?
“Dani suggested we remove their bedroom doors; that should put a lid on any pinch and tickle games they might consider!” Whittaker offered approvingly.
Aleksei cast an exasperated look at his daughter and had to smile at her nonchalant shrug, and innocently stated, “Just trying to help, Daddy.”
“Sure you are,” Sergei growled, sending his sister a fiery look.
“Enough you two. I think there are other ways to insure that this particular episode won’t occur again,” Aleksei stated, looking at his son.
Everyone turned their attention to Aleksei, breaths were held, minds whirling with all the possible answers that would surely send some of those at the table screaming away in frustration.
“Sergei, I would suggest you shave next time,” Aleksei offered, throwing his son an understanding smile and turning his attention to his wife and pleading for breakfast.
Pandemonium broke out, once again, and for several minutes, anyone who would have heard the melee coming from the kitchen would have thought another session of the Middle East Peace Talks had broken down.
And as Aleksei and Jordan shared bites of breakfast with each other, and watched the verbal debate swirl around them, they smiled and thanked heaven for all their blessings, noisy as they were.
At eight o’clock in the morning, the doorbell rang, the sound penetrating Hunter’s groggy mind. It required more energy than he expected as he lifted his head, tried to focus on the numbers on the clock and groaned, as they finally became clear-eight-oh-two. Who in God’s name was ringing the doorbell this early? Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this late; he was typically up and going by five-fifteen.
A female scream, suddenly renting the air, had him bolting from bed, barely remembering to pull on the pair of running shorts he’d left on the foot of the bed the night before, and rushed through the door, only to find himself looking over the banister rail, down into the foyer. With his heart pounding in his chest, he watched as Dani stood in the hallway below and hugged a woman, dancing around her in excitement. Jordan’s voice soon echoed her daughter’s excitement, joining in the celebration as the women hugged each other.
“We weren’t expecting you for another week,” Jordan laughingly scolded her guest, giving her another quick hug and then standing back to take a look at her. “You look wonderful, Dee. I’ll confess, the last time I saw you, I was worried; you looked terribly stressed out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s amazing how much better you feel when you get rid of the things that stress you out the most,” Dee confirmed with a chuckle.
“Please tell me you finally told that little witch you were coaching to take her broomstick and be-gone before someone dropped a house on her,” Dani begged, her eyes glowing brightly, as she pondered the implications of Dee’s words.
“I’m afraid so; as of this moment; I’m unemployed, retired as it were,” Dee stated with a nonchalant shrug.
Jordan looked at her long-time coach and friend and couldn’t believe her good fortune; God was surely smiling down on them all. The possibility of them all collaborating together again, after so many years, had the tiny hairs on the back of Jordan’s neck standing at attention and screaming
Gold Medal
! “Well, consider your retirement postponed; you’re hired! That is, of course, if you want the job?” Jordan hedged, recognizing the look of anticipation in Dee’s eyes and already knowing her answer.
“I can’t wait to get started!” Dee exclaimed.
“You won’t believe how far Sergei and Chloe have come in such a short time; their skating is really amazing,” Dani offered. Starting to make her way back toward the kitchen. A movement from overhead caught her attention and had her stopping her tracks, and not even noticing when her mother bumped into the back of her.
Jordan and Dee’s attention followed Dani’s mesmerized gaze and found the source of her abrupt stop. Hunter looked down on the three women, his arms spread against the banister as he returned their gaze. His tussled hair shown golden in the morning light, the stubble of his beard a dark shadow against his tanned skin, eyes, dark brown and slumberous, gazed groggily downward. His shorts rode low on his hips, emphasizing the narrowness of his waist. His legs were long and muscular, covered in tawny hair that also glowed golden in the morning light. His bare shoulders were impressively wide, covered in rolling muscles, defined, but not grossly huge, and melted into a chest covered in a thick, tawny blanket of hair. Arms, muscled and sporting a tattoo, in some sort of thorny vine pattern, that wrapped around the bulging muscle of his left bicep, supported his weight as he looked over the rail at the silent women.
Dani had never seen someone look so delicious and yet dangerous at the same time and before she could stop herself, she sighed, “Oh my!”
“My sentiments exactly!” Dee replied reverently. “And I thought the Rocmanov men held the blue ribbon for good looks!”
“You two!” Jordan teased, casting an appreciative gaze over Hunter. “I’m sorry we made so much noise; Dee arrived earlier than expected. Dee, this is Hunter James. Hunter, my coach, Dee Carlen,” Jordan made the introduction official.
“It’s very nice to see-I mean-meet, you!” Dee offered with sparkling eyes and a jaunty salute.
“The pleasure’s mine,” Hunter replied gallantly, despite the fact he was standing in not much more than a pair of underwear. “If you ladies will excuse me, it’s time I got moving.”
The three of them watched until he disappeared from their view, releasing their breaths as one and looked at each other, smiling in thorough appreciation of the male form.
“Now that’s someone I wouldn’t mind watching move around for a while!” Dee stated wishfully, a wicked laugh escaping her.
Dani’s snort of disgust stated otherwise. “I’ll grant you, it’s not a hardship to look at him, but the minute he opens his mouth, you suddenly find yourself thinking murderous thoughts!”
Dee cast a final glance up to the spot Hunter had only recently vacated and shook her head in dismay. “I take it, that’s the barracuda,” she sighed. “What a perfectly good waste of a good looking man!”
Jordan threw her hands up in exasperation and led the other two into the kitchen, causing another uproar as she announced Dee’s agreement to rejoin the fray and reunite the coaching team of Carlen and Whittaker.
“You mean, I’m going to have to work with that old witch again?” Whittaker complained; pulling her into his arms and giving her a sound kiss on the mouth.
“Better to work with a witch than an old goat!” Dee countered, returning his hug and accepting the glasses of sparkling cider that Jordan was suddenly passing all around.
“To the golden future of the Rocmanov’s; may our edges hold firm, the ice be smooth, and our love be strong!” Aleksei offered in toast.
The bright tinkling of crystal, as glasses tapped together, sang in the air and a feeling of anticipation filled the room. Aleksei looked around at all the faces he counted as family, and pulled Jordan closer against him, where she stood beside him. With a broad smile, he placed a kiss on his wife’s lips and lifted his glass in a silent salute.
Jordan looked up into her husband’s face, saw the pride and excitement that fairly flowed from his ebony gaze, and recognized the look; one she hadn’t seen since they’d quit competing themselves. The excitement was still there, the anticipation and desire, just as strong; it was simply being transferred to their children.
“To the second generation of Rocmanov skaters; may their reign be long and inspiring,” Jordan offered quietly to her husband, clinking her glass lightly against his before swallowing the rest of the sparkling cider and accepting her husband’s heated kiss.
“Here, here!” He agreed. His words were spoken softly yet filled with determination.
Hunter listened to the toasts, filled with hope and excitement and hated to interrupt their reverie, yet knew unless the problems at hand were resolved, there might never be an occasion to celebrate any future wins; Olympic or otherwise.
The minute he entered the kitchen, the mood changed, as if a cold northern wind had suddenly blown through the room. All eyes turned to him; looks of uncertainty, vulnerability, and anger blending and clashing.
“You must get invited to a lot of parties,” Dani stated softly, one eyebrow lifting in an imperial gesture, as she limped across his path, her eyes flashing fire as she took in his casual attire of a dove gray golf shirt and black Dockers.
“Enough, Dani. Hunter’s doing us a favor being here. I won’t have you haranguing him every chance you get,” Aleksei growled, casting Hunter a look of apology.
“Danielle and I have differing views on several points,” Hunter began.
“One of them being his inability to call me by my correct name,” Dani stated, glaring daggers at him as he returned her heated look with one of boredom.
“I thought your given name
was
Danielle?” Dee asked flippantly, throwing him a jovial wink and then laughing at his look of surprise.
Dani groaned in frustration, “Dee, don’t quibble. Everyone in this room
knows
my given name is Danielle, but no one calls me that; except, of course, on the rare occasions it’s warranted!”
“Which, lately, seems to be more and more,” Aleksei growled, sending his daughter a warning look.
Dani threw her hands up in exasperation. “Fine. I’m impossible to live with, nothing more than a temperamental prima donna looking for something to bitch about! So, to alleviate any further possibility of upsetting any of you, I’ll find some other place to be for a while!” she stormed, limped her way out the back door and slammed it shut behind her; leaving in her wake a group of astonished, silent faces.
“Well, I see hurricane season is upon us. It’s good to know some things never change,” Dee stated sardonically, and cast a knowing glance after Dani’s retreating form as she disappeared toward the ice house.
“I sure as hell hope this morning improves!” Aleksei growled in frustration.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that count; if it’s all right, I’d like to talk to Chloe,” Hunter began, only to look at Sergei as Chloe reached for his hand, and state firmly, “Alone.”
All eyes turned to Chloe expectantly.
With a courageous lift of her chin, a smile that wobbled slightly, but still bespoke confidence, and a tight squeeze to Sergei’s hand, she nodded in agreement. “I’m ready.”
Hunter escorted Chloe into the Rocmanov’s family room, sliding the pocket doors closed behind him for privacy and watched as she took the same over-stuffed chair Dani had climbed into yesterday.
Following suit, he lowered himself on to the same sofa, pulled the minute recorder from his pocket and made the same explanation as to its use to Chloe. As with Dani, he stated the date, time, subject matter and had Chloe state her necessary information before he leaned back, and quietly asked. “Other than the obvious fact that you and Sergei are skating partners, how far has your personal involvement with one another actually progressed?”