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bite of food. “That’s a really good idea.” Then she brightened, whatever spell she had been under lifting. “Seriously, thank you, Ian. I think you just fixed a big, big problem.” She shook her head. “Ian Carter.” Her lip curled a little. “Why didn’t you mention who you were last night?”
    I set my fork down. This was always an awkward question. Especially after Lisette… “I don’t know,” I lied. “I guess it didn’t really come up?”
    Even I could hear how lame that was, and Candace was too smart to let it slide. “Well, now, I think there were plenty of moments you might have mentioned that. Like maybe at the bar, when the hockey game was playing.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Or, maybe when we were passing the skating rink. Oh, oh, or maybe even when I told you I had no idea how a big guy like you could possibly be any good on the ice!”
    I had to laugh. “Okay, you’ve got me. I didn’t tell you, well—because I didn’t really want it to matter.”
    Candace laughed, her bright eyes softening. “Honestly, Ian. Even if you had told me, I would have only nodded, smiled, and then gone home to Google you.” She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth, unconsciously wiping away the traces of lipstick that still clung to her full mouth. I liked that. I liked the way the natural berry color showed through. I could easily imagine leaning over and kissing her so hard that her lips turned red again in their own right.
    But I didn’t. I kept my hands in my lap like a true gentleman, and counted backwards from ten to ignore the raging hard-on I was now sporting. “Not a sports fan?” I ventured.
    She shook her head. “I know, it’s kind of a talent I have, especially living in this town. But I’ve never really been able to understand hockey.”
    “Do you want to understand it?” I want to understand you .
    She set her napkin down and looked up at me shyly. “Suddenly? Yes.”
    A rush of pride filled my chest, even though it was the corniest thing in the world.
    When the waiter reappeared to take our dessert order, I wanted to wave him away. This dinner was going by way too fast. I wanted to stay here…with her. Talk to her…touch her…let her touch me…
    I was so used to having women feign interest because of my notoriety. They knew of me even when they had no idea about me.
    With Candace, it felt different. I felt like she was interested in me , and what’s more, she wanted to share in what interested me.
    This was a new feeling. One I could get used to.
    “Well, you specifically told me you weren’t interested in going to a sports bar on our first date—”
    “And I stand by that,” she interjected firmly.
    “But maybe on our next date?”
    Her eyes softened even further. “Maybe on our next date, sure.” She paused before saying my name, rolling it around in her mouth like she was fully tasting it. “Sure, Ian.”
    I reached over the table and brushed my finger down her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw. The urge to kiss her was becoming more and more unbearable. “I don’t want to think about our next date, though,” I told her solemnly.
    “Why is that?”
    “Because that would mean this one was ending.”
    She looked down, her lashes casting shadows over her pinkening cheeks. “If I didn’t have to work in the morning…” she began.
    I groaned. “You just reminded me. Work in the morning. Fuck.”
    “You have practice tomorrow? she asked.
    I nodded. “First thing in the morning, actually.”
    “Where do you guys practice?”
    “ Johnny’s Icehouse West .”
    She pursed her lips. “How early is early?”
    “I hit the gym at five AM.”
    She winced. “Yeesh.”
    “I’m going to regret this wine… And this dessert.” I signed the check with a flourish as Candace scraped the last bits of her chocolate torte across her plate. “But definitely not this date.” I reached for her hand. “I’ll see you real soon, okay, Candace?”
    She closed