He followed her glance at where Ella and the guys were filming, this little adventure on the ice “exactly what we love to see” as Ella had said.
He hoped it would prove to be, that he wouldn’t drop Bailey. She might have poise for miles on the dance floor, but she hadn’t yet managed to figure out how to balance on skates. And the fact that she hadn’t, that she was stumbling at something he felt was as natural as breathing, made him feel a little better about his failings on the dance floor.
The jive was kicking his butt. His big butt, thanks Marco. But here, when he and the ice were almost as one, was a lot better.
He held Bailey’s hands, using his upper body strength to boost hers, and said, “Look up at me.” She tentatively did, her eyes finding, holding his. “You can trust me.”
She gulped, and the moment suddenly morphed into another of those weird ones where he and she seemed to connect more deeply, and a wave of something indescribable seemed to pass between them. He was almost tempted to try to dance with her out here, to do one of those spins they’d practiced that looked so cool on the dance floor, like ice dancers did at the Olympics, but her fears about falling and maybe twisting something made him pause. He didn’t want to break his promise to her.
Anyway, it was enough that she was close, almost in his arms as he skated backwards around the practice facility the team used. Their usual arena had reverted back to use as a concert venue, which meant this was the best place he could find relative privacy on a summer’s evening in Winnipeg.
“Want to have another try?” he asked.
“I just don’t want to fall.”
“How about I skate you to the side, then hold your hand. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Promise?”
He nodded, throat dry.
He skated her to the boards, and she grasped it tight, then squeezed his right hand in her left. “Now, push with your right leg, imagine you’re gliding along the dance floor, and I’m Marco. ‘I want you to be light on your feet, let’s see you gliding, Bailey’,” he said in a terrible Italian accent that drew her smile. “Hey, that’s it.”
She glanced down and wobbled. “Luc!”
“I got you. You’re safe. Don’t look down. Look ahead. That’s what you’re always telling me, right? No looking down or at my feet.”
She exhaled shakily. “I’m glad to know that some of what I’ve said is sinking in.”
“You’d be surprised at just how much.”
Bailey peeked at him, and he shook his head. “Uh-uh. Straight ahead.”
She obeyed.
He swallowed a snicker at her scared look. If he was a wussy man, he’d call that look adorable. “Am I allowed to say I’m kinda surprised a local gal has never learned to skate?”
“No.”
He didn’t bother to hide the laughter this time.
“Don’t laugh at me. I don’t laugh at you, do I?”
“Oh, you do, Bails. All the time.”
Her smile poked out. “That’s because you’re funny.”
He was? “Do you mean that in a good way, or like you think I’m weird?”
Her lips pulled wider, and she opened her mouth—
“Don’t answer that.”
She giggled, the sound warming his heart. “In a good way. Honestly, for such a tough guy, you seem awfully insecure sometimes.”
“I’m not insecure,” he insisted. “I just really want to know what other people think of me all the time.”
She smiled, then peeked at him again. “Well, I think you’re pretty great.”
Her words walloped his chest, and before he knew it, he’d slipped, his backside pounding the ice. “Ow!”
She grabbed hold of the boards, laughing.
“It’s not funny,” he complained, rubbing his backside. He hadn’t planned on falling, and these jeans held none of the protective elements he usually wore on the ice.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking anything but. She held out a hand. “Do you need help getting up?”
He was so tempted to “accidentally” pull her down into his arms. He looked at her hand, then back up at her, saw the way her eyes widened, then she dropped her hand and tried to move backwards. “Luc, don’t…”
“Luc?”
Luc’s stomach tensed. He recognized that voice. He peeked over his shoulder and quickly scrambled to his feet as Sean Hart skated closer.
After a few harder-than-necessary backslaps hello, Luc glanced at Bailey, who held a nervous smile. “Hey Bailey. This is Sean, who I used to play with. Sean, this is Bailey Donovan.”
Sean’s eyes widened and he grinned. “Your dance partner, huh? Well, hello Bailey.” His gaze trickled down her snug pink sweater and slender legs encased in jeans.
Luc clenched his hands, and moved to place a protective arm around her. “We’re just taking a break from rehearsals.”
