"Oh, it totally is! I was just getting sick of writing about it," she replied. "But your family must be excited to have you play here. I mean, it's a great hockey town."
Jordan shrugged. "They are. I mean, my brother is."
She gave him a quizzical look. "What about your parents?"
He looked down at his food. "My dad died when I was teenager, and my mother took it really hard. I don't think she could handle raising us as a single mom so one day she just left."
"I'm sorry," Charlotte said.
"It's OK. I have my brother Ethan. He's been my protector for a long time and the reason I kept playing hockey."
"So does he live around here?"
"Yeah, we actually live together." She turned to give him a surprised look. "I know, I know, captain of the hockey team with a roommate."
"I wasn't going to say anything," she teased.
"You thought it."
She smiled. "I did."
"Don't worry, I've thought it too," Jordan said. "But it's actually nice to be around him. He's my biggest cheerleader and he does our grocery shopping."
"Oh, you definitely should live together then," she said. "I'll have to meet him sometime."
He rolled his eyes teasingly. "You have no idea how much he would love that."
After they had their fill of dinner, Jordan insisted they get dessert. It wasn't hard to persuade Charlotte considering she was having a much better time than she had expected.
"I'm serious when I tell you that you have never had bread pudding as good as it is here," he said, which led to an amazing plate with bread pudding, homemade vanilla ice cream, and two forks.
"So exactly how did a socialite like you end up a hockey fan?"
"My father. He's friends with one of the New York Admirals' owners." Hearing herself say those words made her feel pretentious. "What about you?" she added quickly to get the conversation off of her.
"My dad was Swedish and moved to Canada, where he met my mother. 'You're Swedish and Canadian, hockey is in your blood,' he used to say. So he made sure Ethan and I both learned how to play hockey and cook Swedish meatballs."
Charlotte gave him a surprised look. "You cook?"
"Just Swedish meatballs! And chicken with rice, but that's a necessity as a hockey player."
"Huh."
Jordan raised an eyebrow in her direction. "'Huh' what?"
"I was thinking that Swedish meatballs do sound delicious," she said. "You'll just have to make them for me sometime."
She smiled and took a bite of dessert, letting her fork linger when she caught Jordan staring at her lips. He looked a bit like he was ready for some other dessert, which gave her a bit of a thrill. It didn't take much to charm a man, but there was something exciting about being able to charm this man in particular.
Then Jordan saw something over her shoulder and he looked down at the table, the heat in his smile replaced by something a little colder.
"Sorry, but there's a group of fans headed this way," he said quietly. "I'll just sign a few autographs and get them moving again."
Charlotte smiled, not really believing that he was so apologetic about some fans. "It's fine," she said. "Even I know how much everyone loves you in this city."
He looked up at her. "Everyone, Charlotte?" he asked.
She realized what she had implied, and it was her turn to gaze down at the table.
