The Dating Plan(58)

“I’m not a stray dog, Liam,” she snapped. “You don’t have to creep over to me. I won’t bite.” Her gaze flicked to his head. “Or maybe I will if you expect me to wear something like that.”

“Yours isn’t the same.” He offered her a small felt hat with a shark fin on top, felt eyes, and long tassels made of white felt for shark teeth. “I thought the rubber might be too much, so I brought you something less aggressive.”

She approached cautiously, like he was about to attack her with his foam shark head. “Give it to me.”

Liam handed it over and she gave a soft “humph” as she inspected the hat. “It’s okay. Actually, it’s kind of cute.”

“Like you.”

Her begrudging smile was all the encouragement he needed. “I brought you a jersey, too.” He handed her a smaller version of the jersey he was wearing. “You’d feel out of place if you weren’t wearing one. Sharks fans rule.” He pumped his fist in the air and shouted, “Go Sharks!”

“Go Sharks!” a passing dude shouted back. “Enjoy the game tonight!”

“Fine.” Daisy sighed. “I’ll wear the hat and jersey. Anything else?”

“Face paint?”

“No.”

“Body paint? You’d have to be naked but I could use a darker blue on areas you’d prefer to keep private.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I also have flags, banners, pom-poms, blue wigs, a full-size shark costume, giant cardboard teeth, shark plushies, and a few blow-up sharks.”

She twisted her lips to the side, considering. “Let’s see the blow-up sharks.”

He led her to the SUV he’d borrowed from James and lifted the hatch to show her his stash of fan gear.

“This is insane,” Daisy said. “It’s like a souvenir shop. Do you sell it out of the back of your vehicle at the game?”

Liam’s chest swelled with pride. “No, this is all mine. I got most of it when they made the Stanley Cup finals in 2016. I wore the full suit in their last game against Pittsburgh.” He lifted the costume. “Come to think of it, I never got it washed . . .”

“I’ll take one of these blow-up sharks.” She pulled one from the pile. “And maybe a rally towel.” Still not smiling, she grabbed a shark plushie. “I want him, too.”

“That will be $22.95.” He held out a hand, and this time she laughed, the full, delightful belly chuckle he remembered from the past.

“How about I buy you dinner when we get to the Shark Tank instead?” she offered.

“I don’t believe that’s on our dating plan, Ms. Patel.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me see . . . Hmm. It appears that we’ve already crossed off the dinner option.”

Daisy shrugged. “If you don’t like their roast beef sandwiches . . .”

“With horseradish?”

“And beer.”

Liam stroked his chin as if considering. “Double order of fries?”

“Each.”

“And for dessert?” he asked.

“Fried Oreos, of course.”

He tucked away his phone. “For you, I’m willing to go ‘off plan.’”



* * *



? ? ?

AFTER two sandwiches, one plate of nachos, four cups of beer—three for Daisy and only one for Liam since he was driving—one giant popcorn, two candy bars, a bag of fried Oreos, and a 2–1 score as they came up to halftime, Liam couldn’t believe he was out with the same woman who had run away from him earlier that day.

“Fear the Fin!” Daisy screamed and shot out of her seat to wave her shark plushie. “Go Sharks!”

“I thought you didn’t particularly care for hockey.” He nodded an apology to the couple behind them, who seemed to be more amused than irritated by Daisy’s enthusiasm. “I thought you only watched it to keep your dad company.”

“It’s different live.” She shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Also, I’ve had a lot to drink.” Her eyes widened as she stared at the ice. “No. Not Marner!” She slapped her hand on her head as Marner played the puck between his legs and scored with a shot from the slot to tie it at 2–2.

“I thought we could use this time to ask questions so we could get to know each other,” he suggested, knowing full well she’d shoot him down. At least she wouldn’t be able to accuse him of not sticking to the plan. And really, was there any better way to truly get to know a person than to get them drunk at a hockey game?

“Shh.” She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t distract me.”

There was very little that could tear Liam’s attention away from a game, but watching Daisy was far more entertaining than watching the Sharks dominate the Maple Leafs. When halftime finally came, he was almost disappointed.

“Do you want to get something else to eat?” he offered.

“No. There’s too much going on.” She bounced in her seat to the party music, watching the Zamboni sweep the ice and the Sharks mascot shaking fins in the crowd.

“Anything you want to ask?” he persisted. “This is your chance to get to know the real me. Penetrating questions. Childhood trauma. Friends. Family. Stories from the three years I spent as a nomad biker running errands for outlaw motorcycle gangs and hiding from the law . . .”