Page 34 of Something’s Brewing

“No late-night skating dates? No smooth moves under arena lights?” she teased, skating a slow circle around him to lessen the attraction they were both feeling but afraid to recognize.

He gave her a dry look. “You’re the first.”

Her heart skipped. But she kept her tone light. “So, this wasn’t part of some secret brewery marketing plan?”

“Only if you’re planning to bottle confusion and mild panic.”

She laughed, and that did it—broke the tension. He looked at her now, more like the Garrett she was used to. Steady and guarded.

“You know,” she said, nudging his arm, “you’ve got decent rhythm.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m just saying, if the brewery ever tanks, there might be a future for you performing at wedding receptions. Line dances. Maybe couples’ skate nights.”

He made a face. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on.” She grinned. “I’d pay good money to see you teach choreography.”

He started skating toward the edge of the rink. “Now I know you’re dangerous.”

Madison followed slowly, heart warm, smile lingering, but her thoughts were still tangled somewhere back at center ice, in the place where his hand had held hers and it seemed like neither of them had wanted to let go.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The hum of the engine was the only sound for a few moments, broken occasionally by the soft crunch of gravel under the tires or the faint beat of music coming from the radio, turned down so low it was barely there.

Madison sat in the passenger seat, still a little flushed from the rink, her muscles loose from skating but her thoughts, tangled.

Garrett had one hand on the wheel. He drove like he did everything else—steady, quiet, and completely in control.

She glanced at him, then back out the window.

“You’re good with them,” she said finally.

He didn’t look over. “With whom?”

“The girls,” she said. “Roman’s kids. Their team. You’re patient. Encouraging. That’s not always easy with a bunch of hyped-up, half-distracted twelve-year-olds.”

Garrett gave a small smile. “They’re tough. Smarter than people think. They want to be taken seriously.”

“You do that well,” she said. Then, after a pause, “You did the same with Sophie.”

His gaze flicked to her, just for a second.

“When she lived with Mason the year before I came home,” Madison continued, “she talked about you a lot. Said you always made time for her. Said you were the only one who didn’t treat her like a fragile glass sculpture after I deployed again.”

Garrett shifted slightly in his seat. “She’s a good kid. Easy to like.”

“She adores you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it settled heavier than before.

After a minute, Garrett cleared his throat. “Can I ask about her dad?”

Madison’s fingers tightened around the hem of her shirt. She didn’t answer right away.

Garrett noticed.