Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain

Chapter 17. Interested In Getting To Know You

Marcus McCarthy’s P.O.V

“Thank you– so much,” I stutter, wide-eyed once again as Diana puts a tray of chocolate cookies piled up before me. It’s the third thing she’s offered me since I arrived at their apartment fifteen minutes ago. First was a glass of fresh orange juice, then some fries and chicken feet that I’ve yet to touch, now, this.

“Anne-Marie baked that,” she says with a bashful smile, her cheeks flushing warmly.

“Oh,” I utter, dropping my eyes to the cute triangle-shaped cookies as my smile spreads. “She baked this?”

“Yes, she did… She’s a great cook.”

I slowly help myself to one. “Wait,” my eyes flick to her, and I say, “I hope it’s not her little girl’s cookies you’ve given me?”

“Er..”

I drop the cookie I picked up, straightening my back.

“No. No, you can have them… She did bake them for her baby because she suddenly wanted chocolates, but Maryanne said ‘yucky’ after having the first one. She’s not a big fan of sweet food. And it’s not even the sweetest cookies Anne-Marie has baked. Maryanne is more of a cracker girl.”

“I see…” I nod slowly, grimacing as I glance at the gift bag I came along with. “I brought alphabet cookies. Is that a no-no?”

“As long as we can spell her name and her mom’s name… She’ll eat just that and nothing else.”

“How can she tell? She’s just… so little.” I meet her gaze, and she shrugs. “I’m not sure that there’s enough ‘N’ and ‘A’ to spell both names,” I murmur, my shoulders slumping in early defeat. She shakes her head in disapproval.

Still hopeful, I ask, “It’s a no?”

“It’s a no.”

“Wow.” I inhale deeply and go again. “Apples? I brought apples.”

“She just entered her carrot phase two days ago.”

I palm my mouth as my jaw tightens in disbelief. Then I say, “I bought her a stuffed toy.”

“She only likes the stuffed rabbit Mommy gave her.”

I choke out a laugh, running my palm over my hair. “She is one picky child.”

“She is. But don’t let her mom hear you say that. You could lose points.”

“Lose points?” I blink, adjusting in my seat. I undo a button on my suit.

“Yup,” Diana says plainly, holding my gaze. “I know you’re interested in her.”

I hold my breath, but don’t deny it.

“Winning her baby’s heart is the fastest way to Anne-Marie’s heart.”

“It is?”

She shrugs again. “There’s no evidence to back that up… I can’t prove it. It’s just my theory.”

“Wow.” My shoulders slump further as I scratch a brow. My hope is at an all-time low, dwindling and almost vanishing. “She didn’t respond to any of my messages all week.”

“She’s likely not interested.”

I break into a snort, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You know you could have just lied to me.”

“I only lie when necessary.”

Smiling, I lift my head again. “Like you would if I asked you anything about Anne-Marie?”

She nods.

“I thought as much.”

The lock on the door beeps, and my eyes fly to the left. Diana looks over her shoulder. My heart leaps. I rise and quickly straighten my suit again. And in a few seconds, the door is pushed open.

The little girl walks in first, with a short ginger ponytail in the middle of her head, wearing a blue dress and tiny white boots, her small right hand lifted. In her other hand is the stuffed rabbit that makes my stuffed toy useless. Next, her mother strolls in, holding on to her. And sharp, green eyes meet mine instantly. She freezes, her stunning eyes widening.

I hold her gaze, hoping I’m getting my message across: ’You ignored me all week, so I brought myself here to see you.’

“Mommy?” Her little one murmurs, big shaky eyes on me as she goes behind her mom’s legs to hide, clutching a flowery green skirt. And there goes my chance. Her daughter doesn’t seem to like me.

“Oops!” Diana says, staring at me with a shake of her head.

“I bought apples for her when she was hungry and had nothing to eat,” I whisper.

“That’s the bare minimum.” Diana silences anything else I could have said in defense.

Anne-Marie slowly moves inside and shuts the door. Though exhaustion clouds her oval face, she’s just as beautiful as she was when I met her two years ago, though slimmer. If only it’d been under different, wonderful circumstances and not a ghastly, mournful one.

Her ginger hair is secured in a single braid. Her blue sweater hangs on her hips as her sneakers shuffle against the floor when she turns to pick up her baby, whose little arms are already stretched out. When her child is against her chest, she moves inside. And with a fold of her lips, she tips her head at me, mouthing, “I’ll be right back.”

I smile at her and nod in response, watching her exit the living room. “I’ll wait downstairs,” I add. She says nothing before disappearing behind a wall, but I know she’s heard me.

“Best of luck, Marcus,” Diana says to me.

“Thanks,” I reply.

I need that luck. I didn’t think I would. I didn’t think I’d be back here or checking up on her all week, but a face like Anne-Marie’s is hard to get out of your head. I don’t have to prove my brother and entire family wrong that I have other interests aside from working nonstop. But she suddenly called after two years of me wondering every once in a while if she was doing okay after losing her mom, and her face reappeared in my head.

Now that I’ve met her again, even after finding out that she’s a single mom, and I’ll be wasting my precious time entertaining her, it’s Friday evening; I’ve still got work to do before joining my friends at the bar, yet my feet brought me here. After staring at the eight ignored messages I sent to her for way too long, I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and drove myself here.

A McCarthy – the COO of Litho Core Semiconductors & Technologies – has absolutely no business being in a place like this or even having a fling with someone like… No. She’s everything and more. I will not allow myself to be like my parents, reducing women to mere status, influence, educational background, or what last name they bear.

***

Leaning against my car, a smile pushes to my lips at the sight of Anne-Marie coming out of the apartment building. They live on the fourteenth floor. She’s not seen me yet. I watch her briefly as she walks slowly, turning her head from left to right in search of me.

“Anne-Marie?” I finally call.

She pauses, turning in my direction. As soon as she sees me, she hits the ground jogging.

“Oh!” I move away from my car, my hands out to stop her. “No, you don’t have to…” I trail off, choosing to admire her athletic gait instead as she bounces toward me, her single braid flying behind her.

She stops, releasing a deep breath, instantly putting her hands behind her.

I stare some more—her eyes, nose, lips, her tiny flinches, the sparse freckles on her plain face. And the words tumble out of me, “You didn’t have to– run…”

“I already kept you waiting.” She answers, huffing and puffing softly to catch her breath.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she nods. “How are you– Marcus?”

I drop my head for a second, reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and unlock it before showing her our chat. She blinks, staring at it. Exhaling softly, she shifts her eyes back to me. “I’m sorry.”

“You wanted to stand me up, right?”

She looks like she’s about to nod, but changes her mind at the last minute, saying, “No.”

Relief washes over me. Smiling to myself, I tuck my phone back into my pocket. “Did you have a long week?”

She nods, keeping her lips pressed into a thin line that somehow tells me she doesn’t want to be here. I’ll pay top dollar to see her smile, but she never does.

“How was your day?” I ask because seeing her gets me so curious about her.

“It was fine.” She answers simply, her hands still behind her as if I’m some Lord over her. It clips my heart, and for a moment, I imagine telling her I’ll stop bothering her.

“Do you want to grab a drink with me?”

“No,” I answer on her behalf, chuckling when she shakes her head.

I take some steps back until I’m leaning against my car again. And I hold her gaze captive, watching her slowly turn pink under the streetlamps.

‘How old are you? What do you do for fun and for a living? Why did you come to Minnesota? What makes you smile? Why do you never smile? Is Maryanne’s father going to show up one day, or is he already in the picture? Is that why you don’t give a damn about me?’ All these questions and more flood my head as I behold her gorgeous face.

But instead, I ask, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she affirms with a nod, and finally averts her gaze. “You can just send the address to me. I promised. I’ll come.”

My mouth twitches before curving into a pleased smile. “Thank you,” I say and put my hand out.

Her eyes fall to it, but she doesn’t take it.

“Are you going to leave me hanging?”

She hesitates, her jaw clenching for a second, but she slowly puts her right hand in mine. My fingers close around her small hand, gripping it. It’s calloused. It stops me for a moment, sending a slight twitch to the muscle between my brows. But before I look into her eyes and see how uninterested she is, I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on it.

I meet her green eyes, and they widen in surprise, her chest swelling from inhaling too sharply.

I’m very much interested in getting to know you, Anne-Marie. And I don’t think being my plus-one for one night will be enough.

*****

— — — —

Anne-Marie’s P.O.V

~Saturday, 6th of September 2025~

It’s Marcus’ brother’s birthday today. In less than two hours, I’ll have to be on my way.

Still in my underwear, I stare at my clothes on my side of the closet and can’t find anything worth wearing as a plus-one for someone as put-together as Marcus. I don’t want to be there, but the least I can do is try.

That clear poly bag steals my attention again. I lean over and pick it up from the closet floor.

Champion’s varsity jacket.