Page 23 of Sew Matcha in Love
“The best,” I replied sincerely. “It’s not what I expected at all.”
“There’s a dress code and a long list of banned items,” Zaki supplied. “The other ones are probably more along the lines of what you were expecting. I wouldn’t bring the girls to those.”
“I—” I pressed my lips shut. Ihadwondered how or if he’d shield the twins from things that were inappropriate. “I’m glad.”
Zaki handed Amelie a credit card, which she presented to the vendor. “Four, please!”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Is that allowed? What will Chef think?” I teased.
He took the paper cone Amelie handed up to him and plucked off a huge cloud of spun sugar. “I’ll skate it off tomorrow at your hockey lesson.”
“Hmm.” Amelie handed me my cone, and I picked off a small chunk of blue from the top. “Well, I guess I can too, then.” I pushed the treat into my mouth and smiled.
“You’ve got—” Zaki pointed to my face.
My fingers flew to my lips, in search of the spun sugar that dared to stick to my face. But I didn’t feel anything.
“May I?” he asked.
I nodded and held my breath.
He grinned, and his thumb brushed against my … nose? I jumped back at the shock, and this time I was sure it was a static charge.
“How in the world?” I used my free hand to lightly swipe my face, just to make sure it was all gone.
He shrugged. “It matched your eye shadow.”
“Its only redeeming quality.” I laughed.
Hours later, as we drove back to my house, the girls asleep in their booster seats, I watched Zaki drive, softly singing along to 1980s rock ballads.
There was more to this guy than I ever could have imagined.
And I might’ve fallen a little bit in love with him today.
CHAPTER 8
Zaki
“Hockey Lesson 1: Make sure your skates and your equipment are on correctly. Let’s take a look at how not to dress. Isles, you’re up.”
Isla skated out to me at the center of the backyard rink. “Don’t be like me! Always fasten your chin strap.” She nudged the dangling plastic end of it with her glove. “And make sure your laces are tucked in.”
I snapped her strap together and tucked the loops of her laces in. “Great job, kiddo. Amms!”
Daughter number two joined me, sans gloves. “Always wear your gloves and a mouth guard.” I pulled the items from the pocket of my jacket and handed them to her one at a time.
“Um…” Arwyn said from the side of the rink. She wore her long lavender coat and furry scarf. Her hands were stuffed into a large pocket thing she called a muff.
Needless to say, she wasn’t dressed for hockey.
But that was okay. It would probably be easier to watch a game to explain how it worked.
“We’ll work on it.” I handed her a new mouthguard.
Her lips parted to protest. “But I?—”
“You’re not dressed for it. Too bad.” I shook my head sadly. “Skating and shooting pucks are such great ways to shed the week’s frustrations.”
