“Yeah, sure. Dale Ronson comes to training camp every year overweight and has to take some off.”

“Huh. He’s a huge guy, though.”

“True, but carrying around too much weight isn’t good.”

They sat to eat breakfast. “Any luck finding a job?” he asked as he forked up eggs.

“Um. No. Not yet. But I’m feeling good about a few things.” She looked down at her plate.

Why did he have this gut feeling she wasn’t really looking? But why wouldn’t she? She clearly didn’t intend to freeload off her brother for the rest of her life, since she’d rented an apartment. What was going on with her?

It wasn’t his business, despite the curiosity burning a hole inside him.

She changed the subject. “You guys gonna practice today?”

He let her have that. “No. They made it an optional skate this afternoon. Our flight was a little delayed last night and we didn’t get home until four-thirty.”

“Oh my God. Yeah, that would have make things tough for a morning practice. So if it’s optional, you don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go.” He grimaced. “I might not skate. Gonna get a few things checked out. Might be a good idea to rest today.” He circled his left shoulder gingerly. Then he met her concerned eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She bit her lip and the worry on her face made him strangely pleased. But also sorry. It also made him want to kiss her.

She was so open and out there about everything, it made him both admiring and uncomfortable. He tried to keep his emotions under wraps. Yeah, he was passionate about his game but it was important to stay in control at all times. So her freely admitting she’d missed him (and Duncan), openly showing her concern for him, honest about the fact that she was attracted to him and apparently wanted to do him, made him a little nuts.

“Why did your girlfriend break up with you?” she asked.

Wow, that was a head-spinning change of subject. “Christ. Why are you bringing her up?”

“I’m just curious. I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend until I talked to my mom the other day. She says to say hi, by the way. She was worried about you when you broke up with…”

“Marissa. She broke up with me.”

“Yeah. Mom said that. So what happened?”

“I’m not ‘romantic’ enough.” He slid off the stool. “You done eating?”

She tipped her head to one side. “Really? She broke up with you because of that?”

“So she said. Gimme your plate?”

Lovey snorted. “That’s bullshit.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Girls want romance. Right?”

“Weeell…I don’t know if you can generalize like that. How can you say all girls want one thing? It can’t be true. And what does that even mean? Not ‘romantic’ enough…did she want roses every week? Foot rubs every night?”

Marc laughed. “She wanted fireworks.”

Lovey bit her bottom lip. “Well, that I get. But you know, sex gets less about the fireworks when you’ve been together awhile.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Not sexual fireworks. Literally, fireworks. And horse-drawn carriage rides. That kind of shit.”

“Oh.” Lovey gave a small smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult your sexual prowess.”

“She never complained about the sex,” Marc admitted dryly.

“But seriously…horse-drawn carriage rides? That’s kind of superficial. I mean, being romantic isn’t about flowers and gestures like that. It’s about…being thoughtful. Small gestures, yeah, but they have to be personal. It’s just being there for each other. Spending time together.” She gave him a sideways look.

“Huh.” He shrugged off the vaguely uncomfortable feeling her words aroused. Because deep down inside, he had a feeling he hadn’t been there for Marissa. He’d been there…but not wholly.

Shit. Lovey didn’t even know him or Marissa, and had somehow put her finger on what the problem really was. It wasn’t that he wasn’t romantic enough. It was that he hadn’t cared enough to be romantic.

No wonder Marissa had dumped him.

“Gotta get ready to go,” he mumbled, and booked it down the hall to his room.

Marc went to the rink, but Duncan didn’t. When Marc got there, the trainers all agreed he should have a rest day, so he hung out for a while as some of the guys did the light skate. Marc noted that Ronson hadn’t come. He didn’t have to, but it still bugged Marc. Something big was up with him.

When he got home, the incredible smell of roast beef filled the condo.

“Holy shit, that smells good,” he said as he entered the kitchen.

Lovey stood there peeling potatoes, wearing an apron with a picture of a puck on the front and the words “Puck you!” She beamed at him, and once again, the shiny warmth in that smile made all his problems fade into the background—worries about why the team kept losing, could they turn things around, was he doing something wrong, and what was up with Ronson. “Hi! It’s the roast beef I promised you.”

His stomach rumbled in anticipation. “Are those going to be mashed potatoes?” he asked hopefully. “With gravy?”

“Of course!”

“It smells garlicky.”

“Yes. This is my garlic and red wine roast beef and gravy recipe. It’s pretty popular.”

“Are you a chef?”

She blinked at him, then gave him a glowing smile. “No, but I like to cook. Did I tell you I signed up for a cooking lesson next week?”

“No. No, you didn’t.”

“Remember I said I need people to talk to? I have to get out more and meet new friends. And I like cooking and learning more about it, so I found this cooking school and signed up. Next week I’m making fresh spring rolls.”

She was unbelievable. Talk about embracing life. “That sounds good.”

“There’s another course coming up that I’d like to do. It’s how to match beer with food.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Like wines, but beer. Doesn’t that sound cool?”

“It actually does.”

“Maybe you can come with me. It’d be fun.”

Marc glanced at Duncan, sprawled out on the couch watching something. “Maybe.”

“It wouldn’t be like a date,” she said, catching his look. “Just us doing something together.”

Riiiiight. “Need any help?”

“How are you at peeling potatoes?”

“Not good, but I can give it a shot.”

“Okay, have at it.” She handed him the paring knife and stepped aside. “I need to do the carrots and beans.”

Once again, they were in the kitchen cooking together. And it was kinda nice.

The meal was fucking fantastic. He and Duncan consumed nearly the whole roast—it wasn’t that big—and all the mashed potatoes, smothered with unbelievably delicious gravy. The vegetables were fresh and crisp and she even had dessert—an apple pie, for fuck’s sake, that she’d made herself, but not just ordinary apple pie, an apple pie with caramel sauce poured over the crust, baked to a golden crisp.

“Your sister’s moving out at the beginning of January,” Marc stated at the end of the meal. “I think that might be a mistake.”

“I am having second thoughts now,” Duncan admitted, patting his flat abs.

Lovey grinned. “You can come to my place for dinner. Although…” Her smile went crooked. “My tiny kitchen isn’t going to be up for big fancy meals. But still.” She squared her shoulders. “It’ll be fine.”

“Where is this place?” Duncan asked. “I wish you’d waited until I was here to see it before you signed a lease. And let me see the lease, by the way. Wanna make sure you didn’t sign something you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“I know, I know, but…well, I guess it’s too late now.”

“It’s a nice place. Very small, but it’s the most I can afford. Nice neighborhood and not too far away.”

She filled them in on more details of what she’d done while they were away, including her night out with Jillian and her friends and the fact that the girls wanted to meet some of the team. “So sometime we’ll all have to go out together. Hey, do you guys know a gym I could join?”