Page 42 of Four More The Merrier

"My hero." She rolls her eyes but closes her notebook. "Promise you won't let me face-plant?"

"Cross my heart." I helped her up from the couch. "Though I can't promise Jarron won't see any videos if you do."

"Jerk." She punches my arm playfully.

Quinn glances at her phone. "I've got a hair appointment at four. Wardrobe wants to 'freshen up my look' for the Christmas performances." She makes air quotes with her fingers. "Text me the address though? I'll meet you there after."

"You're not getting one of those Karen cuts, are you?" I tug playfully at a strand of her auburn hair. "Because I gotta say, the whole 'let me speak to your manager' vibe doesn't really suit our aesthetic."

"Please," she scoffs, batting my hand away. "Karen doesn't stand a chance with my attitude."

She heads for the door, then pauses. "Don't forget to text me that address. And Beau?" Her smile turns mischievous. "Try to find a rink with those little walker things for beginners. My dignity would appreciate it."

"No promises, darlin'. No promises at all."

I shiftmy weight from boot to boot outside the ice rink, scanning the parking lot for Quinn's car. The December air bites at my exposed face, making me grateful for my beard.

Not soon after, she pulls up, and Quinn steps out in a cream-colored sweater dress that hits just above her knees, paired with thick leggings and a blush pink scarf. Her auburn hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, caught in the glow of the street lamps. My breath catches.

"Sorry I'm late," she calls out, hurrying over. "I had to buy some gloves in the hotel lobby."

"You look..." The words stick in my throat. "Different. Good difference."

"Different from my usual jeans and t-shirt getup?" She spins, the dress flaring slightly. "Found this buried in my suitcase. Though it seemed appropriately winter wonderland-ish."

"You look like you stepped out of one of those Hallmark movies Lyle pretends he doesn't watch."

Her laugh echoes across the empty lot. "Don't let him know you told me that secret."

The way her eyes crinkle when she laughs makes my stomach do that weird flippy thing again. I hold the door open, watching as she passes under the twinkling lights strung across the entrance.

I kneel down in front of Quinn, who's perched on a bench near the rental counter. The borrowed skates look like they'veseen better days, but they'll do. "Let me help with those. These old laces can be tricky."

"My knight in shining... pearl snap?" She wiggles her toes as I loosen the laces. "Though I'm pretty sure I can tie my own shoes."

"These aren't shoes, darlin'. These are weapons of mass destruction if not laced properly." I thread the laces through the hooks with practiced ease. "Gotta keep them snug around the ankle."

Quinn watches my hands work. "So, you seem to know what you're doing. Let me guess - you played hockey?"

"Back in West Virginia. For about two seasons." I cinch the laces tight. "Dad thought it'd toughen me up."

"Goalie?" She smirks. "You've got the build for it."

I laugh, finishing up the second skate. "Forward, actually. Coach said I was too aggressive for the goalie."

"You? Aggressive?" She raises an eyebrow. "The same guy who apologized to a chair last week when he bumped into it?"

"That chair came out of nowhere and you know it." I stand, offering her my hands. "Ready to risk life and limb?"

Quinn grabs hold, her fingers cold against mine. "If I go down, I'm taking you with me, big guy."

I guide her toward the ice, steadying her wobbling steps. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

The moment her blades touch the ice, her grip tightens. "Oh god. This was a terrible idea. The ice is so... slippery."

"That's generally the point." I step onto the ice beside her, keeping our hands linked. "Just hold on. I've got you."

Two minutes in, Quinn's arms windmill as her feet slide out from under her. I catch her around the waist, steadying her against my chest. Her cheeks flush pink from more than just the cold.

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