Page 32 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

Her mitt patted the hip of her dress. “Nope. They’re here.” Two slanted pockets curved along each hip, adorned with three small black buttons in a row, keeping her valuables hidden and safe.

Tarquin could vaguely make out the rectangular shape of her phone pressing into the knit fabric.

“I love dresses with pockets. Most don’t have them—drives me nuts—so I always include them in my designs.” Her eyes shifted over the skaters swerving around them, including a woman in a wheelchair accompanied by two friends.

Look at her smile. She’s itching to get out there, but if I can delay a little longer… “You designed this one?”

“Uh, no. Bought it.” She looked over her shoulder. “Maybe we should…”

Fuck. He scratched his hat, a queasiness twisting his belly. “Oh…of course. After you!”

“Great! C’mon!” Smooth and elegant, Leia glided into the flurry of skaters and looked back, urging him to follow.

She’s so graceful. And then there’s me, lumbering about, the beast to her beauty. Tarquin’s heart pummeled his chest. He pasted on a smile and stepped into her shadow, his blades click-clacking across the ice. His short, jagged strides made him waddle precariously. Arghh, kill me now. I must look like a constipated penguin. “Ah, so invigorating, eh? The crisp fresh air…the scent of the mulled wine…” Babbling away, his voice wavered while his arms, stiff and awkward, bobbed by his sides. “Have you ever seen anything like this in Canada?”

Leia’s brow pinched as her eyes hopped from his arms to his rigid knees speckled with melting ice. “No, it’s been a while.”

Tarquin caught her squint. Shit. Stop flapping your arms like a damn duck! “I guess Rockefeller Center in Manhattan comes close, right?” Keeping his chin up, he skate-walked faster, the knot in his stomach tightening with each ankle-wobbling step. I bet Leia could skate before I could walk! What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to this? I’ve dropped myself in it, for fuck’s sake! His heart thrashed beneath his coat. All I can do now is try to stay upright, talk about New York, and maybe—just maybe—she’ll pity-snog me later. He flashed a carefree grin. “When I lived there, I never got ’round to trying out the rink, but—”

“Wait.” Leia curved in front of him and pressed her mitts against his shoulders, curbing his choppy progress.

Ah, bollocks. She’s onto me. A heaviness inside his chest weighed him down. Don’t let on. He exhaled a puff of warm air. “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

She cocked her head, her mitts meeting her hips. “Tarquin—is this your first time?”

I can’t lie to her face. Just be cheeky and hope she laughs. A glint sparkled in his eyes. “Ah, you’ve got me sussed. Yep, I’m a virgin.”

Leia chuckled and playfully swatted his arm, barely making contact. “You are such a guy! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

I love that little giggle she does. Smiling with delight, his dimples deepened. “You seemed so excited. And I thought, hey, I can skateboard—how much harder can it be to skate on ice?” He bit his lip, stifling a laugh. “The answer is: a lot!”

She wrinkled her nose, her glance breezing over a hand-holding couple skating past. “C’mon, ice virgin. I’ll show you the ropes.”

Ah, bless. A tingling sensation swelled in his chest. Leia bent over, giving her right leg a rub. What’s up with that? “You okay?”

Waving away his concern, she straightened up. “I pulled something landing that jump. Told you I was out of practice.” She looked over her shoulder then met his smile again, her ponytail slicing through the air. “So, skating tips. See how I’m standing? Copy what I’m doing. Avoid hunching forward or leaning back, keep your weight on the balls of your feet. Your toes should be slightly pointed out—like this.”

Tarquin peered at her skates and adjusted his accordingly.

“And bend your knees a bit. It’ll help with balance.”

“Soft knees, just like skateboarding,” he said.

“Exactly! Your arms, though—relax them by your sides and keep your head up. You’ll be tempted to watch your feet, but don’t. You need to be aware of where you’re going so you don’t crash.”

“Been there, got several t-shirts.” He groaned and rubbed his hip.

Leia grimaced. “Well, tell me if I’m going too fast or if you want to stop. I promise, I won’t let you fall.” A swoop of red, white, and black—her left mitt—curled tight around his right glove.

Yes! Get in! He softly squeezed her hand as the nasally whine of Oasis gave way to the frisky sixties nostalgia of “Help Yourself” by Tom Jones, all beckoning brass and toe-tapping tempo. Ah! If Leia listens to the lyrics, tries them on for size, I’ll be one happy bloke.

She tilted her head with a squint. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Brilliant! It’s just this song, it’s a classic…” He bit back his grin and swung her hand. “So, left skate first?”

“Sure. Let’s push off with the left, then right. But just small strokes to start.” She blinked up at him. “You ready?”

“Are you?” Tarquin exhaled into a laugh, sending a warm cloud of breath into the air. “This isn’t what you signed up for. I really should’ve told you I can’t skate.” But I really wanted to see you again.