Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3)

by Aven Ellis

  New tears begin to fall. “Not me,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  People dodge around us on the sidewalk, but Luca doesn’t move. It’s as if we’re the only people that exist on this busy Chicago street.

  “I don’t understand,” he says, his hands still on my arms as if he’s afraid I’ll flee again.

  “Let’s go back to the restaurant, and I’ll explain everything,” I say, throwing my mask to the ground. “Then you can decide if you want to continue our date or not.”

  Luca shakes his head. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not ending this date.”

  I bite my lip. Oh, how I pray that’s true.

  “But you don’t know what I’m going to tell you,” I say.

  Luca slides his hands up to my face. I gasp at the sensation of his warmth against my cheeks. His fingers slide through my hair, and my pulse races as he touches me.

  “I. Don’t. Care,” he re-emphasizes as he stares at me.

  Then, to my complete surprise, he lowers his mouth and brushes his lips against mine.

  Luca’s mouth barely touches mine as he kisses me. My pulse skyrockets, and every inch of me is crying out for more by the time he lifts his lips from mine, breaking the brief, gentle kiss.

  “Let’s go back,” Luca says, reaching for my hand.

  I can only nod in response as I’m still reeling from his kiss. His sweet kiss that tells me all my instincts are right about this man.

  Every. Single. One.

  I put my hand in his, and we head back to the restaurant. Once inside, we go to our table. Luca removes my coat from my hands and puts it back over my chair. I drop my purse on the floor and take a seat as Luca sits across from me.

  “Tell me why you left me,” he says simply.

  I take a deep breath and twist my hands anxiously in my lap.

  “My ex-boyfriend was here,” I whisper.

  Luca’s gaze gives up nothing. I know it’s his turn to wear the mask.

  “Gabe—that’s his name—was hurt when I broke it off last spring. He wanted to get engaged. At that point, I knew I didn’t love him the way I should. I couldn’t keep seeing him. I didn’t want to move in with him, I didn’t want to look at rings with him, and I didn’t want to marry him.”

  “Then you did the right thing by ending it,” Luca says.

  “I know,” I agree.

  “Then why did you want to leave tonight? Did seeing him bring up feelings?”

  “Oh no, no, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t have any feelings for him at all. Truth is, once he brought up rings, I knew I didn’t love him in that way. But because I had dated him since college, he had every right to think we were headed in that direction. I led him on, Luca. I destroyed him when I broke up with him.”

  “You were dating. You had feelings for him. That’s not leading someone on.”

  I shake my head. “I should have ended it sooner.”

  “You didn’t realize it wasn’t what you wanted until it got to that point.”

  I gaze down at the tabletop for a moment and gather all my courage before looking up at him. When I do lift my head, Luca’s eyes lock on mine as he waits patiently for me to speak.

  “Luca, I don’t want to ever hurt you,” I say, my voice thick. “I know I’m capable of it. I would die before ever causing you that kind of pain. I thought I would spare you. You’re at a pivotal point in your career, and I don’t want to ruin anything for you.”

  His face changes as he realizes what I’m saying.

  “Two things,” Luca says. “One, your relationship with Gabe was just that—a relationship with him. Not me. Whatever happens between us, whatever this is meant to become, is our experience and ours alone.”

  I blink back tears and nod, grateful that Luca sees it this way.

  “Second,” he continues, “I do have a very consuming career playing hockey for the Buffaloes. Dating someone is new territory for me. I’ve never done it before. But all I know is, when I saw your picture last spring, I couldn’t get you out of my head. The beautiful woman with freckles and toffee-colored eyes.

  “When Landy told me about you, the kind of person you were, I knew you were a girl I wanted to know,” Luca continues. “But the timing was all wrong. You had to get over this breakup. If I would have known what you just told me, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time. I know I have to focus on hockey, which was enough until I met you, but now . . . I need to see what we can be, Collins. But you have to be willing to take that risk with me.”

  Luca is a true man, going after what he wants, and it makes me happy to realize he still wants me. Flaws and all.

  “I am willing to take the risk,” I say, blinking back tears.

  “Give me your hand,” Luca says.

  I extend my hand to him, and Luca entwines his fingers with mine. I glance down at our holding hands resting on the tabletop, and it feels more than right.

  It feels perfect.

  “I’m going to pretend a goal just got scored on me,” Luca says, smiling. “I’ve studied the replay, put my mask back on, and shaken it off. It’s over. I know it happened, but we’re moving forward.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for coming after me.”

  “There was no way I wasn’t.”

  As I look into his eyes and feel his hand linked with mine, I know the evening has begun again.

  And I can’t wait to see where we will go tonight.

  Chapter 10

  Combining elements can make a perfect evening come together . . .

  “I’m only going to have one glass of wine. Are you okay with ordering by the glass instead of getting a bottle?” Luca asks.

  “That’s perfect.”

  “Any suggestions for what to pair with salmon?” he asks.

  I decide to tease him. “I thought when you asked about wine you’d be an expert.”

  Luca slowly drags his thumb across the top of my hand, tracing a slow circle on it and causing my body to burn hot in response.

  “I’m still learning,” he says. “I only turned twenty-one last spring.”

  “Something tells me you weren’t binge drinking your teen years away with Oregon pinot noir,” I say. “Which is my recommendation for grilled salmon, by the way.”

  How I managed to get that answer out while Luca continued to stroke my hand is a complete miracle.

  “I didn’t drink,” Luca admits. “Being a professional athlete requires I keep my body in top-flight condition. No alcohol. I’d have wine with meals at holidays with my family, but that was it. Now I’m exploring wine with meals out, but only a glass. I have a lot to learn, obviously.”

  “Then you’re in luck, I know a lot about wine.”

  “I knew dating an older woman would have its advantages,” Luca says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I can’t help but laugh. “I feel like a cougar now.”

  A grin lights up his face. “I need a cougar to educate me in the ways of the world.”

  “I don’t think so, Luca Ballerini,” I declare. “You’re the most mature man I’ve ever met.”

  “You have evidence to prove this, Ms. Brady?”

  Oh, the flirt game is strong in this one.

  And I like it.

  “I do,” I say. “Shall I go through my exhibits before resting my case?”

  His eyes flicker sexily.

  The game is on now.

  “Proceed,” he says, his deep voice escalating my pulse.

  “Exhibit A,” I say, “is your dedication to becoming a goalie. You have been laser-like in your focus. I don’t know of anyone so young who is so dedicated. I have a feeling your diet is just the tip of the iceberg here, am I right?”


  “Cross-examination permitted,” Luca says.

  Oh, this man—and I do mean man—is sexy as hell.

  He clears his throat. “You’re right. I wasn’t a normal kid. Don’t get me wrong, my parents tried.”

  “Tried?” I ask, confused.

  “They wanted my life to be more than hockey,” Luca clarifies.

  Our server approaches us. “Have you made a decision on wine?”

  “I defer to the lady,” Luca says, inclining his head toward me and releasing my hand to pass me the wine list. “I trust her to order for me.”

  I skim the choices and select an Oregon pinot for him and a rosé from Washington state for me.

  “Very good,” the server says, nodding. “And would you care for an appetizer this evening?”

  “I defer to the gentleman on that,” I say, smiling at him.

  “Prosciutto and melon?” Luca asks.

  “That sounds excellent,” I say.

  Our server makes a note and leaves to put in our order.

  “Trying to stay with that healthy eating plan,” Luca explains.

  “That’s a bullet point under Exhibit A,” I say. “You have such discipline. But I want to revisit your comment, if you’ll allow, about how your parents tried to make you normal.”

  Luca entwines his hand with mine again.

  “I’ll allow it,” he says.

  “What’s normal?” I ask.

  Luca sighs. “This could be long.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You say that.”

  “I. Don’t. Care,” I repeat in the same way he said to me back on the sidewalk.

  Luca’s eyes linger on my face.

  “I like you,” he says simply.

  Ooh!

  “Good, because I like you, too.”

  He squeezes my hand in his, sending tingles down my spine.

  “Okay. I’m not normal. By normal, I mean, it’s not normal for a kid to know he wants to be a professional hockey player by the age of ten and determine everything he needs to do to try to make it happen.”

  I furrow my brow. “But lots of boys dream of being athletes, you’re not unusual for that.”

  “No, but my single-minded focus was extreme. I played every chance I got. I spent hours reading about professional players and their routines. What they ate. What conditioning they did. I duplicated it. When I got older, I watched games on my iPad late at night instead of going to bed, studying the great goalies and how they made saves. I never stopped. It was hockey, hockey, hockey. Everything was related to hockey.”

  “Everything?” I ask. “Didn’t you hang out with friends or date or anything like that?”

  Luca falls silent for a moment.

  “This is where I give you permission to run, Cinderella. If you drop your shoe, I won’t come find you. I’ll understand.”

  I study his open face, and I see he’s hesitant to continue.

  “This Cinderella doesn’t run anymore,” I say.

  Luca exhales. “Okay. I hung out with friends but always kept it early. Mostly teammates, because they wouldn’t give me shit for being so ‘good’ because I was badass in the net. I was bigger than all of them, so they knew I could beat the crap out of them for giving me grief,” he says, his eyes sparkling at me.

  “But girls?” he continues. “I hooked up with some. Not tons. I didn’t need the distraction, so definitely nothing beyond that.”

  “Hockey was everything since age ten,” I say.

  “Yeah. My mom was upset. She wanted me to have more in life than hockey, but I couldn’t, not if I wanted to make it. So, instead of family vacations, I opted to go to goalie camps in Canada instead. I took a part-time job, but it was at the rink so I could get ice time, which is hard to get in Chicago. The only other thing I did was study to keep my grades up, and my mom tried so hard to get me to take a scholarship to Notre Dame to have what she said was ‘life experience,’ but I didn’t want that. Not when I was getting closer and closer to the league.”

  “What about your dad?” I ask.

  “My dad is a pilot. He knew he wanted to fly since the age of six, so he gets me. Although I’m more zealous about pursuing hockey than he was about flying. He’s a private pilot for William Cumberland. The guy who created Connectivity.”

  “Seriously?” I ask. “William Cumberland is one of the wealthiest men in the world.”

  Luca nods. “Yep. So he’s all over the globe. But when Cumberland is with his wife and kids in the UK, he sends Dad home and only has him commute back when needed. Family time is important to him, so he makes sure my dad has it. You better believe my mom loves pointing that out to me. Even William Cumberland has more of a life than I do.”

  Now I know what he means by normal. Luca hasn’t had a conventional childhood. He hasn’t been in any kind of relationship with anything but hockey.

  My brain should be tapping the brakes here. Is Luca capable of any kind of relationship, especially now that his first season as starting goalie is about to begin? Will he even want one once he realizes what it means?

  But my heart has a different response.

  I had normal with Gabe.

  And I wasn’t happy.

  You don’t want normal, my heart whispers.

  My heart is right. I want Luca.

  The server returns with our wine and appetizer and takes our order. I go for the gnocchi with ricotta and tomato sauce and, ever diligent, Luca gets the grilled salmon with seasonal vegetables.

  I pause to take a sip of my rosé, which is chilled perfectly and absolutely delicious, and Luca does the same with his pinot.

  “Do you like it?” I ask.

  “It’s good,” Luca says. “How did you know to select this one?”

  I flash him a smile. “While you were studying goalies, I was studying wine appreciation at Purdue.”

  “Lucky me,” Luca says.

  I smile. “I might know a thing or two about wine.”

  Luca studies me for a moment. He clears his throat before he begins speaking. “I sacrificed a lot to become the goalie for the Chicago Buffaloes,” he says, his deep voice low. “To stay here, I’ll have to continue to do so. Nothing distracted me from my goal until I saw your picture. I don’t know how, but I knew you’d be special. I knew it. When I found out you were going to be at the party, I had to see if my gut was right.”

  He takes his hand from mine and lifts it to my face, gently caressing my cheek as he stares at me.

  “My gut was right,” he murmurs. “You’re the one distraction I can’t turn away from.”

  I can’t breathe.

  “Being with me won’t be easy,” he says, his eyes intensely focused on mine.

  “I don’t want easy,” I say.

  “Neither do I,” Luca says, his fingertips dancing sensually across my skin.

  He remains silent, simply gazing at me and stroking my skin in one of the most intense moments I’ve ever experienced. Just like a planned event, all the elements for a perfect evening have come together to create this moment: his gaze on me, the touch of his hand, the heartfelt words from his lips.

  It’s a moment a woman dreams of.

  One I never thought I’d have.

  Until now.

  “Collins,” he finally says. “I need to know something.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Are you willing to try this? To take a chance on me, knowing what you know now?”

  “What I know,” I say slowly, answering from my heart, “is you’re not like any man I’ve ever met. That’s why I’m here. I’m here for you. And I’m ready to take this chance if you are.”

  Without hesitation, Luca leans across the table a
nd presses his lips to mine.

  Once again, my body lights up in response to his soft mouth brushing against mine.

  He lifts his head and smiles at me.

  “I think a toast is in order,” he says sexily and raises his glass to mine. “To taking a chance.”

  “To taking a chance,” I repeat.

  I clink my glass against his, and we each take a sip.

  But I don’t feel like I’m taking a chance at all.

  I feel as if I’ve found exactly where I’m meant to be.

  Chapter 11

  Always go the extra mile for your client . . .

  “This has been the best meal,” I declare, putting my fork down on the plate.

  And it has nothing to do with the food.

  I glance over the flickering candlelight at Luca. We’ve talked so much during dinner it’s taken us three times longer than usual to eat. We’ve done nothing but continue to learn about each other, and the more he talks, the more I crush on him.

  Over melon and prosciutto, I learned that Luca is the oldest of four siblings. Tom is his only brother, and he’s a senior at Notre Dame. Catherine is a freshman at the University of Illinois, and Hannah is a junior in high school. Very different from my life as an only child. Of course, Luca is the textbook oldest child: rule-oriented, goal-driven, and detail-focused. The psychology fits him to a T.

  During dinner, Luca asked me what I love besides horses. I asked him to name three things besides hockey that he loves and I would do the same. We both laughed when it was hard to do. It’s amazing how we both are so consumed by what we love.

  He shared stories about life in the minor leagues and living on his own when he was eighteen. He talked about how excited he was when he was called up last spring and how important Landy Holder has been in helping him transition to the pros.