“There are campgrounds everywhere.”
She shudders, then leans closer, cupping the side of her mouth like she’s confessing. “I don’t know how to break it to you, but I don’t camp.”
I laugh. “Right. Snakes.”
“Exactly.”
I stare at the ceiling for a beat. “How about glamping?”
“Maybe,” she says, but it’s a hopeful maybe.
That twinkle in her brown eyes makes my pulse spike. It’s a little ludicrous, this effect she has on me. Making her happy just does it for me. Too bad I only have a few days of this kind of happiness left.
But I try not to linger on that. She doesn’t want to see that side of Lake Onion. I zero in on practical matters. “I’ll look into glamping. And we can fit the breakfast easily around the wedding shower and the spa day. Did your sister ever pick a date for that kind of torture? I mean, that kind of relaxation?”
She gives me a sharp stare. “I saw you get a massage in the training room.”
“That was for sore muscles.”
“Yes, they work on sore muscles at spas too,” she says, then clicks on a link on her phone—a spreadsheet no doubt—and gives me a date.
I swear I’m not grinning when I say, “I have a game that night.”
She sighs mournfully. “I was really looking forward to seeing you with cucumbers on your eyes. I was even going to take a picture.”
“Dream on, beautiful,” I say.
“Oh, I will, Lake. I will.”
After I pay for breakfast, we head back to the hotel, and walk by the front desk where Cedric’s working. He gives us a wave, then a knowing sort of smile. “Hey there. Looks like everything worked out okay?”
Right. I have to keep making sure it’s clear that I didn’t fuck up yesterday when I first said we were friends. I tug Remy closer. “Sure.”
“Glad to hear that, and go beat the Sea Dogs tonight.”
“I see we have a hockey fan in our midst,” Remy puts in.
Cedric swings his gaze to her, studying her for a second or two, then adding, “Absolutely. And…I think I saw you on the broadcast too.”
She cringes, but he shakes his head quickly, then gestures to Remy. “Nice to see you happy.”
“Thanks,” she says, her smile fading as we walk away.
His remark is similar to what the woman at that dress shop said. “When people recognize you from the Jumbotron video,” I say as we head up the steps, “does that bug you?”
She draws in a breath, like she needs to steady herself. “At first, it did a little. But I try to look on the bright side. It’s nice to have so many people rooting for you to move on.”
My gut twists with the reminder that she’s still very much in the moving on phase. And I’d do well to remember that.
36
JUST A TASTE
Lake
Hockey.
Just hockey.
