Page 130 of Ice Mechanic

With a slight shake of my head, I grab my tool box from the truck bed and enter the stadium. The lights are off, which is strange. Did Bobby forget that he called me down here? And where’s the Zamboni?

“Bobby!” I call, moving carefully down the stairs in the dark. “Bobby, where are?—”

My words are cut off when the spotlights over the stadium burst to life. They illuminate the Zamboni that’s working very well as it vrooms over the ice in a peculiar pattern.

I slow down, inhaling sharply. From this vantage, looking down at the ice, the Zamboni is leaving a mark behind.

What is that?

I back up the stairs to get a higher view and the pattern becomes clear.

It’s the shape of a heart.

I cover my mouth with a hand. Why is Bobby doing this? I know he’s head-over-heels for his wife, so that must mean…

“Tink,” Chance’s deep voice rumbles behind me.

I spin around, jumping so far in the air that it really seems like I can fly. “Chance, what are you doing here? I thought the team wouldn’t be back in town until tomorrow.”

“I left early.” He takes a step forward. The rest of the stadium is still dark, but the light bouncing from the ice illuminates his handsome face. “I missed you.”

My throat pulls tight. All the things I wanted to say to him get lost between my head and my lips. Breathlessly, I gesture to the ice. “Is that for me?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “I wanted to do something special for you. Next time, I’ll set up candles and rose petals everywhere.”

I squint in thought. “Is it legal to light candles in an ice rink?”

He pauses and thinks about it. “You know… I’m not sure.”

I laugh, my shoulders, neck and back loosening. My heart is finally at ease seeing him and I… I’m just so happy.

His eyes soften on me. “Whoa.”

My lips freeze. “What?”

“Your smile just made my heart flutter.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“I’m being serious,” Chance insists.

I chuckle again, unable to stop smiling at him. Now that I think about it, I started smiling and laughing a lot more after meeting Chance.

Chance remains a few feet away, but his gaze is so tenderly caressing that it feels like he’s touching me when he says, “I really missed you.”

I take a step forward. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” He seems surprised.

“I saw the press conference.”

“I meant every word.”

My fingers fall to the pockets of my jumper. Pressure builds in my head and I take another step forward. “Chance?”

“Yes, Tink?”

“There’s… something I need to tell you.”

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