For hockey.
Of course, she does.
That’s what everyone needs me for. It’s what I do.
Okay, there are a few other things I’m good at that women like and come to me for—and I’d be happy to demonstrate those to Nora as well—but I’m in Louisiana, walking toward the coffee shop in Rebel, with Nora because of hockey.
And I’mreallyfucking good at hockey, so it’s fine.
But I feel a low hum of annoyance just beneath the much more obvious emotions of bewilderment—swamp werewolves and a town with a “thing” for otters?—and foreboding. I mean, there are still three men wandering around who want to tie me up in an alligator-infested cabin.
It doesn’t make sense that I feelirritatedthat this sunny woman looks at me and sees a hockey player who is going to fix her town’s and her family’s problems. I should feel heroic. Orsomething. Helping Nora with this aligns with my goals here, too. Astrid and I both want this team to be successful.
“How many seats does the arena have?” Declan asked.
Astrid’s eyes narrowed. “Five thousand.”
“And how many tickets were they selling last year on average per game?”
“Just over two thousand.”
“Do you think you can improve on that?” Declan asked.
“Of course I do.”
“You sell out that arena by the end of the season, and I will give you a job with the Grays.”
I blinked at him, realizing that he was talking to me. “Really? I help Astrid get this going, and I can come back and work for you?”
“If you go with your sister and help make her team wildly successful, then you can come back and work for me.”
I looked at Astrid. Five thousand seats. That didn’t seem difficult. The Grays arena holds over seventeen thousand, and we’ve been selling out every game for the past five years.
“I’m in.”
I feel my neck tense remembering that conversation in Declan’s office just over a month ago. It had seemed like a simple plan then. But now it’s real. My future in hockeydependson the team here in Rebel being successful.
I can’t be feeling restless and itchy because Nora doesn’t want anything more than hockey from me.
That’s stupid.
I just met her.
So what if Nora’s beautiful and her ass fit perfectly in my hands when I held her in the airport, or that I could easily kiss her for days, and listen to her rant for hours against an indoor fun zone as if the man responsible is trying to open a brothel on her hometown’s main street.
She’s cute when she’s all worked up and outraged.
She also smiles a lot, usesa lotof exclamation marks and capital letters in her texts, smells like wildflowers, and her literaljobis making sure this town has fun.
And instead of just being glad I’m here and welcoming me to town, she’s convinced I’m going to save the arena and her grandfather’s entire damned legacy.
“Alex, we’re not renewing your contract. I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not back from your injury.”
“I’ve been working my ass off! I’m at eighty-five percent!”
