Page 6 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

“How come I haven’t seen you back home, Sanders?” I ask the question that’s been nagging at me the entire night. I gave up on sending texts and calling after our break-up, figuring I’d see her when we were both in Georgetown. But it hasn’t happened. Not even once.

She looks down, twirling the stem of the champagne glass between her fingers. “I’ve been busy with studies and work, mostly. I never wanted to turn down an opportunity to add to my resume, you know? I don’t think I’ve been home for longer than four days since I left.”

I can’t imagine Hannah not being home. She is so close with her parents and her siblings. She’s the big sister to three brothers and a little sister, and she’s always taken her position in the family seriously.

“It’s hard to picture you anywhere else,” I admit, my voice softer than I intended. “When I think of you, it’s like you’re right there at your house, cooking with your mom or sparring with your brothers. Or at Camp Grace with your dad, helping with the activities. ”

A small, almost sad smile crosses her face. “That’s the way it used to be, Luke,” she murmurs. “But then life happened. You moved on and I had to do the same thing. Once I kept that in mind it was easy to say yes to things to keep me busy.”

She takes a small sip of champagne, her gaze not leaving mine for a second, her green eyes lit with an intensity that flips my stomach inside out.

“You should come home more often,” I say, inching closer, unable to stop myself.

I pause for a second, trying to read her expression and wondering if I’m pushing too hard, too fast. She was the one who ended things, the one who left me without a single word for five years.

As much as I’d like to, it’s not something I can ignore.

And yet, here she is, looking at me like nothing has changed.

“Do you want to call it a night?” I ask, knowing I have to give her the option of leaving but praying that she won’t take it. “Or do you want to go get dessert?”

She looks up at me and for a moment there’s a flicker in her eyes, like she’s weighing the same fears and hopes that I am. Then she smiles. A cautious smile that gently tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“You do know we’re in a restaurant that most definitely serves dessert,” she murmurs, a hint of teasing in her voice. “Michelin star-level dessert, I might add.”

“True,” I say, glancing just past her shoulder. “But this restaurant also has your friend and two of my teammates in it.”

Her smile deepens and the sight of it sends something warm and electric through me. Silence lingers between us just long enough to feel like a question.

Then she tilts her head. “I guess we should go get dessert somewhere else then.”

Relief floods my system a long with a surge of hope I didn’t realize I’d been holding out for.

“Great, I know just the place.”

I’m obviously lying. I don’t know anything about dessert places in Vegas. But I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet and if that means winging it until she kicks me to the curb, then that’s what I’ll do.

“One condition though,” she says, a small frown forming. “Just please no noisy, slot machiney places.”

I get up and hold out my hand toward her. “No casinos, got it.”

“And no fancy dresses or diamonds,” she adds, slipping her small hand into mine. Her warmth seeps through me and I have to take a deep breath to settle the storm building inside my chest.

“I didn’t pack mine,” I say with a grin. “So we’re safe.”

Her laughter pulls me in like it always has, that warm, familiar sound shaking loose a thousand memories.

For a second, it feels like we’re back in Georgetown, sneaking off from her parents’ porch to steal a late-night adventure.

But here, with her hand in mine, I’m very aware of the fact that we’re two adults choosing to spend more time together.

We’re not those two kids sneaking around town anymore; we’re two people who’ve lived, who’ve lost and gained parts of ourselves in all the years apart.

We’re in the middle of a city far away from home, adults with no one to answer to but each other.

Maybe it’s a fluke that we’re both here, at this place, tonight.

But I don’t believe in coincidences. Never have.

There’s something bigger at play, I can feel it. If there’s even the slightest chance that this night means something more, then I’m going to hold onto it for as long as she’ll let me.

The feeling is intoxicating, threatening to drown out every ounce of common sense.

“Dec,” I say, obviously interrupting my defenseman as he’s majorly zoning in on Hannah’s friend. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“No problem,” he says, barely looking at me. Liz takes a second to wink at Hannah before we head out of the restaurant together. EJ waves before making sure Liz is occupied with him instead of Declan.

Poor man is working too hard to keep Declan from self-destructing again.

Neither of them says a word about the curfew or us sticking together, whether it’s loyalty or distraction, I’m not sure. Either way, I’m grateful.

As we reach the busy hotel foyer, the expression on Hannah’s face changes to discomfort in a second. Somehow this place never quiets down, and there are always people around. I guide her toward the front entrance, figuring we’d take a walk along the strip and see where we end up.

“Tell me why you’re in Vegas when you obviously don’t like it here?” I ask her, leading her through the revolving doors and feeling her relax next to me as the cooler night air hits us. It’s not so noisy out here, the openness somehow swallowing the music and voices all around us.

“It’s to celebrate graduation,” she says with a shrug.

“And to celebrate this amazing job I just got. I’ve been working so hard to get it, and it finally happened.

I wanted to go wine tasting, but Mona and Liz said we’ll have enough time for that when we’re heading into our first mid-life crisis.

” She laughs a little, but it’s filled with tension.

“I didn’t think two days here would actually kill me,” she adds, her voice tinged with forced amusement. “Although now I think I might’ve been wrong.”

I glance at her, raising a brow to challenge her to give me a little more.

She sighs. “I don’t know, don’t you feel it?” she asks, her nose scrunching a bit. “Something about this place…It just doesn’t sit right.”

I look around me, at the people coming in and out of casinos. There’s a hum to this city, an undertone that I don’t want to dwell on for too long. It’s undeniable.

“I get it,” I say, looking back down at her. “When we heard we’d be getting two days off I wanted to get in my truck and head back home to see Noah and dad. But…the team has to stick together, so Vegas it is.”

She looks up at me with a small smile, the neon lights dancing across her features.

“So neither of us wanted to come here, and yet here we are. If I didn’t know any better, God sent you here to make sure I survived this trip.

When do you have to go back to New York?

” she asks, and I don’t miss the tinge of hope in her voice.

She’s just starting her trip, and I’m at the end of mine.

I look at my watch, seeing that it’s already two-thirty in the morning. “I have to be on a plane in five hours. We have practice in the afternoon and a game tomorrow night.”

The disappointment is clear, as we realize that both of us want more time.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed then?” she asks, her tone teasing but edging with practicality. “You won’t have a great practice on zero hours of sleep.”

We continue to walk slowly along the strip. Her hand is still firmly held in mine, her arm pressed against me as we walk side by side. We’ve created our own little bubble and I’ll do anything to stay in it for as long as possible.

I glance at her, shaking my head. “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

I lift her hand to my mouth, unable to help myself as I place a kiss against the back of it.

There’s a flash of uncertainty across her features at my gesture, which she quickly hides.

Someone who doesn’t know Hannah might’ve missed it.

A sinking feeling twists in my stomach, a mix of fear and insecurity.

“So, tell me more, Sanders. What have you been up to?”

“A lot,” she says, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “A lot can happen in five years, Luke.”

Her words are light, but they carry a weight I wasn’t expecting. The way she says it, so casually, makes my chest tighten. My eyes drop to her left hand, almost involuntarily, wondering if she’s met someone in the time we’ve been apart.

I know she’s not the kind of girl to lead someone on or be involved with someone while keeping things ambiguous with me, but I can’t shake the feeling.

Maybe it’s the way she’s been avoiding certain things, the way she’s stepped back in moments when I thought we were connecting.

Or maybe it’s because I still remember how easily she slipped away from me the last time we were together.

“Does that mean you’re spoken for?” I ask, needing to know.

At dinner earlier, our conversations were more surface level. We mostly spoke about the team and her studies, but we didn’t dive into too personal things, especially with my teammates and her friend being in the vicinity.

She blushes and I have to fight the urge to run my fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear so I can see more of her face.

“No, nothing like that,” she says, shaking her head.

Relief floods me, igniting something deeper, something unexpected.

“Good.” My voice comes out too rough, too raw, betraying the excitement coursing through me.

“Good?” she asks, her green eyes searching mine, as if she’s trying to read me.

“I won’t pretend I’m not happy you’re not seeing someone,” I tell her the truth, before second-guessing myself. “I’ve missed you.”

“Lucas—“ she starts, uncertainty laced in her voice. Uncertainty I want to wipe away.