She snapped her fingers again at the dogs, unwilling to see them cozy up to Isaac. But they just barked at her vague commands, the tiny bells on their collars jingling with the force of their yippy protests. Traitors.
“I didn’t find you lacking. I thought you were spying on me.” He bent toward the adoring fans at his feet.
While Stacy tried to make sense of what he just said, Isaac scooped up a dog under each arm and juggled them easily until Tink and Belle settled happily against his chest. She imagined what it would feel like to trade places with the canines. To be back in the circle of his arms.
“Why would I spy on you? I didn’t even know who you were—” Although, come to think of it, she knew about him now. Some big-deal techno-gadget man. A discreetly wealthy graphics chip maker. “Did you think I was some kind of Gotham City villain out to steal the plans for your microchip? Maybe block out the sun and take over the town while I was at it?”
The sarcasm surprised her since she was usually frustratingly nice to guys even when they didn’t deserve it. Yet with Isaac—who still appealed to her more than any other—she said what came to mind. He would probably never understand why that was a good thing. But she’d lived with her nice-girl reflex long enough to appreciate the ease with which she spoke to him.
“It’s not a microchip,” he informed her. “But I’m flattered you looked me up after the awkward way we parted.”
Damn it. Had she given that away? Better not admit she’d also had a professional matchmaker check him out.
“I needed to make sure you weren’t a serial killer,” she said defensively, unwilling to reveal any more soft feelings for him after putting herself on the line with him last time. She wasn’t about to give up her newfound independence.
Some kids rolled past on skateboards, their heads swiveling to take in her outfit. She really should have dressed before storming out here. Her toes curled in her slippers as she sidled closer to Isaac.
“I looked you up, too,” he admitted, giving the kids the hairy eyeball until they rolled away. “I know you’re not a spy and I’m sorry for misreading the situation.”
For a moment, she was wooed by the sound of his voice, so warm and deep. But she couldn’t afford to get sucked in by him again. She needed to be more discerning when it came to men. Although he’d sure come a long way to apologize.
“How did you know where to find me?” She didn’t remember saying where she’d be staying in her video blog. “Did you honestly drive three hundred miles to find me?”
“Technically? I had my security team keep an eye on you after we met—”
“You followed me?”
“Not me personally—”
“No. Only your security team.” She grabbed the lapels of the jacket and squeezed them tighter, peering around the street for spies. “What threat could I possibly have posed to you with my hobbled ankle while I was lost in a freaking parking lot?”
She wasn’t offended, per se. Possibly, she was a little flattered to think she looked like a dangerous industrial spy. Before he could answer, she continued.
“I mean, it’s one thing to think I was up to no good back at that hotel the other night. But once you found out who I was, Stacy Goodwell the clumsy trust-fund baby—”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” His words were so sharp it took her a moment to realize he was saying something nice.
“You live in town. You must know how I’m portrayed in the social pages.” A double slap in the face since her biggest detractor was a fellow columnist at the paper. “I’m the one who’s always tripping and spilling things, talking too loud, making a spectacle of myself on the dance floor.”
“You’re effusive and passionate.” He said it with a straight face.
“Is that my problem?” she asked, scuffing her slipper along a crack in the pavement.
“It’s not a problem. It’s a beautiful personality trait. And I had you followed because you graduated summa cum laude from U Penn with a business degree. That alerted me you could indeed be working for a competitor. But after more digging, we knew that wasn’t the case. I told my team to leave you alone.”
Even the degree program had been at her father’s prompting. She’d wanted to pursue something more creative.
“I’m glad you don’t think I’m a spy anymore.” What might have happened between them the other night if he hadn’t been suspicious?
“I think the video blog is great, by the way.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” He lowered Belle to the street now that the dog had calmed down. How did he know she was the alpha female of the pair? Once Belle was happy, Tink jumped down, too. “It’s a compelling concept for a video blog, but better yet, it’s a good way for you to show your father you’re serious about taking charge.”
“I know the break is long overdue, and I feel like a coward for leaving town when the video hit to avoid facing him—”
“That’s why you’re in Pittsburgh?”
“In theory, I’m here to root for the Phantoms.” She stood beside him as they watched the dogs investigate patches of garden around a few row houses. “But I also wanted to put some miles between me and my dad so he didn’t end up on my doorstep for hours, explaining why I’d made another misstep.”
“In theory, I’m here to watch the hockey game, too.” He withdrew two tickets from the pocket of the jacket he’d given her to wear.
The slight touch of his fingertips against her hipbone lingered. A shiver tickled up her spine, and it didn’t have anything to do with the cold.
“But you have an ulterior motive?” Her heart beat faster.
“It’s threefold.” He lowered his voice as an older couple exited the bed-and-breakfast and strolled past them hand in hand.
“That sounds … well planned.” She stayed close to him to ensure she could hear him.
Okay, also so she’d be within easy reach if he decided to touch her. Maybe she could stumble into him again.
“First, I wanted to find you.” He ticked off the item on his index finger.
“You’ve accomplished that.”
“Second, I wanted to apologize for thinking you were a spy and missing my chance to be with you.” He turned toward her and suddenly she was the center of his intense focus. They breathed the same air, wrapped in the same moment that had turned heated.
“You’re forgiven,” she blurted, mostly because it was true, but also because she wanted to speed him along toward whatever else he’d come here to say.
The suspense was killing her.
“Three, I’d like to ask you to go out with me tonight. I understand you might wish to ignore the invitation in retribution for the way I misheard yours the other night—”
Stacy didn’t let him finish. She was too busy kissing him.
KYLE DIDN’T WASTE ANY time after the morning skate at the Pittsburgh facility. He was the first to shower and head back to the hotel; he’d promised Marissa he wouldn’t be gone for long when he’d left her early that morning. She’d wanted to talk since the night before, but he’d been concerned that she’d find some new reason why they shouldn’t be together, so he’d made a game of distracting her in every way imaginable at his