Beckham finally nears us, first smiling at his family before turning his attention to me. His eyes flick over me, first pausing on the not-a-gift-tag necklace and then shifting down to my shirt.
Then he does something that completely surprises me. He throws his head back and laughs.
Really, really laughs.
I grin back at him, my pulse quickening, and he shakes his head, continuing to skate around and warm up. After a few minutes, he skates back over to us and stops.
“Hi, Uncle Beckham!” Sofia says.
He puts his glove up to the glass, looking first at Lucy. “High five, Lucy!”
She eagerly taps her little hand against the glass, and Beckham flashes her a huge smile. “Thank you, Lucy!” Then he turns to Stella. “Stella, high five for good luck!”
He places his gloved hand closer to her, and she beats on the glass with enthusiasm. “There you go, that was awesome,” he says, grinning at her.
I can’t contain the smile on my face. He might be a partier and like the ladies, but he obviously loves these little girls very much.
Then Beckham moves over so he’s standing in front of me, tapping the end of his stick on the glass in the direction of my shirt.
But I barely even notice because I’m completely lost in those eyes of his.
He’s beautiful.
“What isthat,Cupcake?” he asks, snapping me from my thoughts as he points at my shirt.
I smile mischievously at him. “Nutcrackers, obviously.”
The corners of his sensual mouth tip up in an amused smile. “And they come in pink.”
“As they should,” I counter.
He shakes his head. I’m now grinning in delight.
“You changed the ribbon on your gift tag.”
“I coordinated for you,” I tell him.
“It’s still a gift tag.”
“No, it’s still a statement necklace.”
“You will never get me to agree with you on that,” he declares.
“It’s okay, Grumpy, you don’t have to agree. We’ll both just know you’re wrong.”
That makes him crack up, and my stomach tingles.
Beckham skates away, and only after he leaves am I aware of both Sofia and Aaron watching me with interested expressions on their faces. I feel a heat climbing up my cheeks and neck, and I don’t know what to say.
“He’s still calling you Cupcake?” she asks.
“Cupcake!” Stella cries excitedly. “I want a cupcake!”
“Me too!” Lucy cries.
“After dinner,” Aaron assures them.
I’m hoping Sofia is distracted by the cupcake conversation, but she’s not. Her eyes remain locked on my face, so I might as well answer. “Yes, he does.”