He chuckled and then positioned himself in front of her and stopped, planting himself in her way so she ended up running into him. But he was braced for it, and wrapped his arms around her, bringing them both to a stop.
She looked up at him, something unrecognizable glinting in her eyes. Something like…mischief or fun. Something he wondered how often she’d had. Something that, Christ, it filled him with awe and wonder and just enough damn satisfaction that he wanted to be done skating. Take her home right now.
Home? Really?
“Can you make me go backwards?” she asked, interrupting the weird trajectory of his thoughts.
She was trying so hard not to smile, and it was another moment. He was starting to collect them. Pretty soon they’d be so common they’d turn into breathing. Then what would happen come August?
But he started skating, still holding her close, arms wrapped around her, making her go backwards.
“It makes you happy,” she said softly, searching his face for something.
Since he didn’t want her to find it, he didn’t turn them when he reached the curve—he just skated her right into the boards and covered her mouth with his.
Chapter 16
Mel watched Dan skate around with three teenagers and two of their fathers. The five had shuffled in all but shaking with excitement and nerves. She’d never seen people react to a person that way.
But about half an hour into it, the boys were laughing on the ice, and the dads seemed winded but happy.
And Dan, well, he shone, and he was grinning from ear to ear. He’d raced some of the kids from one end of the ice to the other, looked to be coaching them on their technique, and so far the only thing he’d turned down was an offer to go get some sticks and pucks and goals to pretend to play a game.
He’d declined nicely. In fact, she didn’t think the group had even had a chance to be disappointed before they were bringing out all and sundry to have Dan sign, the whole group still in their skates, apparently not wobbly even when they were just standing still.
When Dan finally disentangled himself from the group and headed for where he’d left his shoes, the remaining men stood on the ice oohing and aahing over everything Dan had signed.
She met him at the bench, her skates long discarded. He didn’t look up even when she moved to stand in front of him.
“You signed a lot of stuff,” she offered into the awkward silence, the weird energy pouring off him.
He still didn’t look up. “Yeah, Kevin’s dad owns the place, so he wanted to put some stuff up on the walls.”
“So, Dan Sharpe, you’re kind of a big deal.”
His lips quirked, but his gaze remained on his shoes as he laced them. “I kind of am.”
“Though I did not get to see your stick skills.”
Finally, finally he glanced at her, but that cocky, “no emotion behind the grin” smile was on his face. “I’ll show you plenty of stick skills later, honey.”
“All jokes aside, why’d you say no to the…” It dawned on her in that second why he wouldn’t want to actually play hockey. She’d been blinded by his joy at skating, forgetting the whole reason he was here in the first place was, well, he’d messed things up with stick and puck.
He got to his feet. “Let’s head home, huh?”
Head home. Now she was the one tightening up, feeling weird. They did not have a home together. Her home was Shaw. And she was currently shirking all her responsibilities in that department.
It is long past time you had a shirk. This will get you ready to face the next twenty-eight years of no shirking allowed.
She wanted to believe that, believe in it strongly enough the guilt settling in her gut would disappear completely. As it was, she just managed to ignore it now and again.
Dan stood, his skates in one hand, his other hand running through his hair. He looked lost for a second, before the easy, fake veneer clicked back into place. “So, what did you think of your first skating experience?”
“I think I’ll leave the skating to you.”
“Finally better at something than you, then?”
“Not a contest. Certainly not a fair one.”
“A man has his pride. At least there’s one thing.”
The night had been fun. Even though she really hated that he was better than her at something, even if that was silly. Still, his constant this is the only thing I’m good at was getting old. Trying to soothe over men’s delicate egos was getting old.
“Do you really, honestly think hockey is all you have? Because it was a pretty stupid move to come here and try to build something if you’re going to mope about hockey being the only thing you were ever good at when it’s over.”
He was silent as they walked to his car—not as if he was angry, but as if he was pondering.
“Do you think I’m going to stay?”