As stupid as eating McDonald’s sitting in the back of Mel’s truck was, he kind of enjoyed it. Mel seemed relaxed, easy, like she was at Georgia’s. Like she hadn’t been at the steak place in Bozeman.
And now they were going to skate. Maybe everyone thought he couldn’t hack it with the ranch stuff. Maybe they were all quietly—or not always so quietly in Mel’s case, waiting for him to fail. It didn’t matter. He was good at something. There was something he didn’t bail on, or hide from, or was just plain bad at. It wasn’t just escape; it was everything.
She would have to see that, and maybe she’d get it.
If she doesn’t?
He shook off that question by drowning it in the grease and fat of his last few french fries. “Ready?”
She nodded, rubbing her hands together, likely trying to get some of the salt off them. “Maybe I can just watch you skate.”
“Scared?” he teased. He grabbed the skates he’d put in the backseat of the truck before they’d left.
When they met at the front of the truck, Mel was staring at his skates. “No, I just…”
“You’re just scared.” He took her hand, and she resisted for a second, but only a second. He grinned.
She narrowed her eyes, mouth pressing into a scowl. Christ, she was sexy, and she didn’t have a clue. He didn’t have a clue, because the heavy work pants and shapeless work shirt did nothing for her, and the braid even less.
But the way she leveled him with one look and carried herself like she could and would fight anything in her path…he could not get over the desire to just worship at the altar of that.
“You’re going to be way better at this than me,” she grumbled.
“Well, I’m a professional for starters, and it’s not like you aren’t better than me at everything else.”
Her hand twitched in his, a hesitation before she squeezed. “In just about the strangest way, you are too hard on yourself,” she grumbled, the words just barely intelligible.
“And in the strangest, grumbly way, you are something of a boost to my ego. Who would have thought?”
She made a grunting sound, but the grip on his hand didn’t loosen, even as they walked into the big shack of a building.
The kid behind the counter immediately got to his feet, and there was a crash from behind him, somewhere Dan couldn’t see. He turned bright red, scurrying out in front.
“Hi, Mr. Sharpe. I mean, hello. W-welcome to Elkmont Ice Rink. We’re really excited about having you skate here.” The kid was practically shaking, and it reminded him of the way people used to come up to his dad, in absolute awe.
People had come up to him that way too. Not so much in the past year, but they had. Still, the way people had done it to his dad when he was a kid stuck with him more.
“Hey, Kevin, right?”
The kid nodded like a bobblehead doll, so Dan tried to be as smiley and friendly as possible. “Thanks for setting this up for me, man.” He extended a hand, and the teen shook it with openmouthed awe.
Dan didn’t even bother to look at Mel. He could tell by the way she let his hand go and took a few steps away from him she wasn’t comfortable with this.
Well, too bad.
“So, here’s the agreed-upon amount.” Dan handed over the cash for renting the ice for an hour. The kid stared at it dumbfounded.
“And, hey, if you give me and my friend an hour alone on the ice, I can stick around for a bit after and sign anything you or any buddies want.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure. No problem. You guys skate, right?”
Again with the bobblehead nodding.
“Mel, what size do you wear?”
“S-size?” She sounded about as out of sorts as the kid.
“Shoe size. For the skates. Can you get her some skates, Kevin?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure Mr. Sharpe. Thanks so much. My dad and I…we’re like, so excited. We’ve never had anyone famous here before.” The kid all but vibrated before turning to Mel. “Um, just follow me, ma’am.”
Mel gave him a strange look, but then she followed the kid to the counter and got herself a pair of skates before they were led to the benches outside the ice.
“Give us till eight, then bring out whoever. Sound good, Kevin?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s awesome, sir.” The kid slowly backed away from them, clutching his phone to his chest.
Dan slid onto a bench and began untying his shoes. When he looked up, Mel was smiling at him. Innocently, which meant the smile was not innocent in the least.
“He called you sir.”
Dan grunted. “So? He called you ma’am.”
“That’s the polite country thing to do. Sir means you’re old. Do you need your glasses to skate?”
“Mel, honey, bite me.” He shot her a grin as he shucked his shoes and laced up. “And I mean that in a couple different ways.”
Her cheeks went pink and she looked down at her feet, carefully pulling off her boots. He tied off his skates and pushed himself into a standing position. Damn, that felt good. Been way too long. Way, way too long.