Didn’t want to remember or think. She wanted to go back to the other night when he’d made her forget. Over and over again.
So, she did the unthinkable and lied. “No, I don’t need to rush home.” Caleb had gotten to do whatever he wanted to drown whatever problems he had for twenty-some years. It was long past her turn.
“Let’s skip the cooking lesson, then, and do something else.”
Oh, thank God, she wasn’t going to have to say it. His smile wasn’t even blank anymore—it was downright mischievous. One of those electric tingles of anticipation wiggled up her spine.
“Let’s go ice skating.”
“I’m sorry. What?” That wasn’t some weird hockey player code for sex, was it?
“There’s an indoor rink in Bozeman, according to my Internet research. Let me take you ice skating.”
“I…” He actually meant ice skating, and she had no idea what that meant. “I’m not much of a skater. I’m not sure I’ve ever—”
“Never been ice skating?” He slapped a palm to the side of his head. “That needs to be remedied, ASAP. Come on. Let’s go. We can get some McDonald’s on the way.”
“That’s some date.” Then she felt stupid, because that’s probably not what he meant.
“Well, honey, if you play your cards right, you might just get lucky at the end of this date.”
“Dan…” Only she didn’t know what to say, if she should agree or argue. She really…didn’t know, and since she was tired of having to know, she figured she might as well go along. And argue, because that was what she was good at. “I told you not to call me honey.”
He wound his arm around her shoulders, walking her toward their vehicles. “But did you ever think to ask why I called you that?”
“There’s a why?”
“Of course, honey.” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “And for the record, we’re taking my bike.”
“I can’t believe your wheels haven’t fallen off yet out here. The axel will probably crack right in half just trying to drive out to the main road.”
“Ye of little faith in my manly machine.”
“Is that a euphemism, or is this where you start talking in third person again?”
“Come on, you know you want to ride it.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Both literally and euphemistically.”
“It’s supposed to rain tonight. I’m not getting drenched on that thing for literal or euphemistic rides.”
He frowned, but then shrugged. “Okay, we can take your truck, but I get to drive.”
It was her turn to frown. “Why can’t I drive?”
“Because this is a date, and when Dan Sharpe takes a lady on a date, he is firmly in the driver’s seat.”
She wanted to find that irritating, ridiculous. It was her damn truck, but he opened the passenger-side door with a silly flourish, and she just…couldn’t resist him.
“One of the most successful NHL hockey players of the past decade is going to show you how to skate, little lady. I hope you’re prepared.” He made a motion to tip the cap he did not wear, and she rolled her eyes, but he had the effect of making her smile against her will, at the stupidest, goofiest things.
At his gesture, she slid into the seat. He leaned in until she felt the need to pull her head back, press her body to the seat so she wasn’t so…
What? Wasn’t so what? She wanted to have sex with the guy; usually that involved getting close. But when he focused on her with something lurking in his eyes, she felt cornered, pressed down, a kind of fluttering hope without understanding what the hope was for.
“I call you honey, Mel Shaw, because you are sweet and smooth when I kiss you, but the whole of you was made by a million hours of hard work and focus.”
It took her a few minutes of staring at him to realize her mouth had dropped open, that she was just staring. So, she tried to talk, had to clear her throat. “That’s quite a line.”
“I can’t make you believe me.” He said it so seriously, with almost a hint of sadness behind the words, that it made her want to believe him. Believe whatever he said about anything.
But that would make her weak, believing, trusting, giving. Even wanting to believe him was borderline weak. It had to be.
He tilted his mouth to hers, but still kept them a breath apart. “But I hope you will believe me at some point, honey.”
The sharp inhale of breath she took had to have betrayed her weakness, but she couldn’t take it back. Or push him away, or not lean into him.
But he didn’t kiss her. He pulled back and buckled her seat belt across her chest. “Buckle up, Cowgirl—you’re in for a bumpy ride.”
*
Dan had not sunk his teeth into a Big Mac in a good ten years. Possibly longer. He wasn’t sure if it was that good, or he was just that hungry.
It didn’t really matter, because tonight he was going to skate. With Mel, which somehow made the prospect even more exciting, if that was possible.