She looked up just as he combed his hand through her hair and kissed her again. The move was so sweet, so familiar, so comforting, it killed her to think of losing him. She cupped his cheek and tried to memorize the feel of his lips.
But he pulled back too soon. “I’ve arranged for Dwayne to step in for me so you won’t have to judge with Natalie—”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about that.” The words spilled from her mouth in a now-or-never, throw-caution-to-the-wind gamble. Because in that moment, she realized she wanted to hold on to Grant more than she wanted to hold on to her ghosts from the past. More than she wanted to hold on to her anger. “I overreacted about judging. The stress has my emotions swinging all over the place. I don’t need to judge the contest.” She smiled, trying to trick herself into easing the intensity crushing her chest. “Once you’ve seen a couple thousand ice sculptures, you’ve seen ’em all, right?”
His brow furrowed a little, creating a vertical line. “But—”
“And I’ve been thinking about what you said last night too. Memories live in here.” She patted his chest. “Not in any event. Not in any physical object or geographical location. So no matter what I do or where I go, I’ll always have my dad with me. I don’t need this contest or the store or even Holly to hold on to him.”
Grant’s expression lightened, but he still looked concerned. “Baby, you’ve been through a lot, and I think you’re going to discover awesome things about yourself in the next few months.” He stroked his knuckles over her jaw, his gaze soft on hers. “But I hope you know that I think you’re already amazing.”
“I think you’re amazing too.” Faith took a deep breath and dove in with hope sparking in her heart. She’d opened the door for him to step through, if that was what he wanted. “So what’s this event they have you doing?”
He seemed more interested in tucking her hair perfectly behind her ear than the event. “Some special thing they’re doing tomorrow at the National Christmas Tree.”
“Wait, is that… That’s not…” But she couldn’t think of any other event. “The one in front of the White House?” When he didn’t correct her, she added, “The one that the president and his family attend?”
He chuckled at her awe, reminding Faith how sheltered her life was in small-town USA.
“Yeah.” He shook his head, unimpressed. “I’ve met him before. I know it seems like a big deal, and the f
irst time, yeah, I guess it was cool, but it’s really not that…I don’t know…special, I guess.”
Not special to him, she thought, because he was so out of her league, maybe.
“I’m sorry,” he added after a second. “That made me sound…self-important. What I meant was that he’s actually accessible to more people than you would imagine. And he happens to be a fan of the Rough Riders. If he were a fan of the Fliers or the Islanders or something, I never would have met him.”
He sighed with a shake of his head and rubbed his eyes. “I think the more I talk, the worse I sound. I guess, like you with ice sculptures, once you’ve seen a few tree lightings, you’ve seen ’em all. And with these kinds of events, it’s never just one thing. There’s always a pre-party and an after-party, and an after-after-party… The socializing is endless. But I need to schmooze with the media to talk up my return to the game. There’s a lot more to hockey at this level than just hockey.”
“Evidently.” And it only made her think of all those gorgeous, cultured women he took to all those non-hockey events. “Who knew?”
He huffed a laugh. “Right?”
That uncomfortable tightness gathered at the center of her chest again. “But still, that’s an opportunity most people will go their whole lives without ever experiencing. And it sounds pretty damn swanky.”
“I guess.” He lifted a shoulder. “I know it makes me sound ungrateful, and I’m not, but I don’t want to go.”
She didn’t want him to go either. And if he had to go, she wished he’d ask her to go with him. She’d done everything but invite herself. But she was starting to realize that idea was straight out of a fairy tale.
“The event will be televised. You might see me on the edge of the crowd, standing with a gaggle of other scruffy guys.” He slid his arms around her waist, then lifted his mouth in a half smile. “Will you watch?”
Ice water doused Faith’s last flicker of hope. Natalie had been right. Grant wouldn’t ask her to come with him, because she didn’t belong in that world. His real world. Holly was his temporary fantasyland. Hockey and all the locations it took him—that was Grant’s real world. The world with all the lights and cameras, autographs and interviews, dates with supermodels and CFOs, and meeting the freaking president of the United States.
And Faith, small-town hardware store owner on the verge of bankruptcy, not only didn’t belong, she couldn’t fit in no matter what she did or how she tried.
The reality of that hurt in a way she couldn’t put into words.
“You bet.” She forced a smile, patted his chest, and stepped out of the circle of his arms. “I’m going to let Natalie know she’ll be judging the contest on her own, and I’ll be sure to surf cable tomorrow night to see if I can catch sight of you.”
He looked disappointed and a little lost. Twisting his wrist, he glanced at his watch, then dropped his arm. But he didn’t ask her to come. Didn’t suggest plans when he returned. And she couldn’t bear dragging out this good-bye any longer.
“Don’t be late,” she said with a smile and shooing gesture as she walked backward. The more space she created between them, the less likely she would be to lunge after him when he turned to go. “You shouldn’t keep the president of the United States waiting.”
“I, um…I looked through all Taylor’s numbers and jotted down a rough sketch of a similar plan for you. It’s on your desk.”
“Great. I’ll look it over tonight. Thanks again. For everything.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” he added, still not moving.