He wasted some time on the Internet, but that was okay because he didn’t do it very often, then got up, stretched, and changed into black pants and a charcoal shirt. No tie.

He paused at the bedroom door. What if Army was around? What was he going to tell him? He closed his eyes, sorting through options. But wait. He hadn’t heard Army come home. Unless he’d been so engrossed in Instagram that he’d missed it.

He opened the door and stepped out just as Lovey opened her bedroom door across the hall. She stepped out, and his jaw dropped.

Fuck. She’d been there a few weeks and he’d seen her in jeans and yoga pants and completely naked. But he’d never seen her in a dress. It shouldn’t be so stunning. He swept her up and down with his gaze, from fiery gold hair curling back from her face, and shiny lips, to an ivory turtleneck sweater dress that hugged her, throat to knees. His gaze dropped lower, to knee-high tan boots with a high heel.

“Fuck,” he croaked. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” Her smile teased him. “So do you.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here before Duncan comes home and shoots a billion questions at us.”

“Good idea. Just need my coat.”

He found her long camel coat in the closet and helped her into it. She thanked him with a demure smile. Then he shrugged into his own coat and grabbed his keys, and they were out.

“So where are we going for dinner?” She leaned against the elevator wall, purse over her shoulder, hands in her coat pockets. He took in the visual, so fucking gorgeous.

“Chester’s. Little place on West Randolph, really good food. Shouldn’t be too busy tonight.”

They ate dinner, which was awesome. He had the grilled bratwurst with mashed potatoes. Lovey took a while looking over the menu and he started to wonder if he’d made a mistake bringing here there. If she was looking for low-carb, there weren’t many options. But she finally settled on an omelet with spinach, blue cheese, and caramelized onions. They both ordered a beer.

They talked about all kinds of things over dinner—their families, their dogs, what they missed about being a kid. It all just flowed, easy and organic.

“So tell me what you do for your social media clients.” He was genuinely curious.

“Well, I do a variety of things, depending on what they want. Basically, I develop a creative strategy and some engaging content, trying to build an online community for the client and cultivate a loyal customer following. People talk online about everything, so I get my clients into the conversation and make sure it’s good. Like if someone mentions cheese on Twitter, I’ll pop in and suggest Kleinheinz cheddar or maybe link them to a recipe.”

“So it’s not just Facebook posts and tweets?”

“Well, it is, but there are other platforms too. Also I set up blogs and I blog for some companies. But before any of that happens, I have to know all about the company and their brand. I do a pretty intensive needs assessment, then work on a social media strategy that fits within their wider marketing goals. Then I develop a campaign that has measurable goals. It’s about focusing the message on the right people and getting them talking.”

“Wow. So your marketing background at…what was the name of the cheese place? Kleinheinz?”

“Yes.” She grinned. “I had a few other marketing jobs too. None of them lasted that long.”

“I like the name of your business, by the way. Big Cheese Media.”

Her eyes widened. “You know the name?”

“I Googled it,” he admitted, cutting into a bratwurst. “And I looked at your blog. Both are very impressive.”

“Thank you.” She lowered her chin and was briefly silent.

“So your marketing background helps with this.”

“Of course it does. But it’s a bit of a different skill. Content is important, of course; it has to be relevant and substantive. It has to be well written, but it also has to be fresh and engaging. It takes a unique voice and perspective to set a company apart.”

Fresh and engaging. That was her. He’d recognized it in her from the minute he’d seen her in Duncan’s condo that day she’d arrived. He’d seen it in the way she charmed everyone she met, male and female.

“And I’ve also done some training. Some companies want to keep their social media implementation in-house, so I train their staff how to do it.”

“See, that’s what I was thinking. I was on Twitter for a while this afternoon, but I’m always afraid I’m going to go on there and say something stupid that will make the team look bad, so I don’t do as much as I could. I have tons of followers but I don’t know if they get much out of following me.” He grimaced. “I thought maybe you could help me with that.”

Her smile was luminous. “Of course I could. That would be way cool.”

She took a bite of her omelet. “How’s your beer?” she asked. “Oh hey, remember I told you about that course? Matching beer with food?”

“Yeah. That sounds cool.”

“It’s Thursday, December seventh. You guys are home and you don’t have a game that night. Want to come with me?”

Yeah. He did.

This was becoming more than just furtive sex. They were kind of on a date. And that would be another kind of date. And he had to admit he liked it.

“Sure,” he said casually. “Sounds like fun.”

“Okay. I’ll sign us both up.”

“We leave tomorrow on another road trip,” he said. “Not back until Monday.”

“Yeah. I know. You’ll be gone for Thanksgiving.”

She was aware of their schedule. He wasn’t sure what that meant. But it made him feel…something. Good. Whatever. “Oh right. I forget you Americans have a different Thanksgiving. We celebrate it in October at home.” He paused. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home to the farm. For a few days.” She shrugged. “Better than spending Thanksgiving all alone.”

Yeah, that would kind of suck for her. Jesus, he felt bad now for abandoning her on such a big holiday. But that was his life.

They ate, then he drove them to the school. Many people had already arrived, and he was lucky to find a parking spot in the school lot. They walked through crisp darkness into the building. Right away he saw people he knew—Aces management, Aces Community Foundation staff, Colby Kowalchuck from Communications, a few other players, teachers he’d met, and the principal of the school, not to mention the freakin’ mayor of Chicago.

He shook hands and smiled and introduced Lovey, who at first had been shell-shocked but quickly recovered and responded to people with her own smiles and greetings. Of course, everyone assumed they were a couple. He didn’t say they were. But he didn’t say they weren’t.

After some socializing and networking, they listened to speeches in the gymnasium.

“This is a very special night for us,” began Carrie Thorpe, executive director of the Aces Community Foundation. “The Foundation has been working with Fowler High School for the last five years and tonight’s grand opening is the culmination of our biggest project. We’re really excited to share this with all of you.”

The chief of police spoke next, about the importance of education and how giving these students the opportunity to make their lives better was so valuable. The mayor said a few words and then the school principal, Paul Curran, spoke about the positive results the school had achieved. “This is in no small part due to the enormous contributions of the Aces Community Foundation,” he added. “And in particular those players who give so generously not only of their money but of their time…Oleg Boyarov, Olaf Pilkvist, and Marc Dupuis. You men have made a major difference in the lives of so many at risk youth.”

Marc resisted the urge to duck for cover and waved as everyone applauded. Including Lovey, right next to him, looking at him. He glanced at her and saw the warmth in her eyes and her smile. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.