Cam takes the hint and stays quiet.
“Savannah will help you learn the ropes around here,” Craig states loudly.
“I think I’ll be okay,” Cam says quickly as his face flushes. “I’ve been skating since I could walk.”
“I don’t care if you’re a future Wayne Gretzky.” Craig gives him a stern look. “Ms. McMann has been working here since she was a child. She’s a coach’s daughter. She grew up in this arena, and she can help you out with anything you need. ‘Okay, sir’ is the only acceptable answer.”
Cam’s mouth narrows into a frown, and he looks like he’s going to throw a string of curse words at Craig. But he merely nods.
“And I want you to tag along with Savannah when she goes to Milwaukee next month.”
I turn to Craig with my hands on my hips. “Why? That’s a business conference.”
“Cam’s day job is in sales. He can be useful to us at this meeting. You’re a wallflower, Savannah. Let someone come along who actually likes people.”
I know I blush, and I sneak a glance at Cam. I’m certain he’ll be laughing at me.
He’s not, though. He tilts his head and looks at me appraisingly like he’s trying to figure out what makes me tick. Whatever he sees makes him say, “Sir, doesn’t it make more sense for me to learn the playbook? And attend practice?”
“The playbook, yes. You can bring it with you, and Savannah will help answer any questions. She knows our plays, our lineups, and our formations like the back of her hand. She drew up some of the plays herself.”
Cam’s eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline as his gaze flicks back to me. “You’re a coach?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve just been here a long time, so I have a feel for what’s worked in the past and what hasn’t. Obviously, we change things up based on what type of players we have and who our competition is.”
“Savannah is the team’s go-to,” Craig says, and I’m stunned at the hint of pride in his voice. “You’d do well to listen to her.”
“Duly noted.” Cam raises his hand to his forehead and salutes me. I would be annoyed, but he tempers his teasing with a heartfelt smile as he extends his hand to me. “I look forward to working with you, Savannah.”
I shake his hand quickly, praying he won’t be able to tell how much mine is trembling.
“Her father left us in the lurch years ago.” Craig continues talking to Cam as if I’m not even there. “I was the assistant coach and had to figure out fast how to be a head coach. Didn’t do us any favors, did he, Savannah?”
“No,” I murmur.
Cam’s eyes turn hard as he says to Craig, “I’m sure the opportunity was one you were thrilled to have. Coach.”
Craig’s face reddens. “Well, yes, of course I was. But Savannah’s father…”
“Is no longer here,” I say quickly, not sure where the sharpness in my voice is coming from, but I keep talking. “So let’s move on, shall we?”
“That’s a good idea,” Cam says in a soft tone, his gaze warm as he looks at me.
“Okay,” Craig grumbles. “You two can talk after practice. Start on the ice for a quick run-through and then go to the coffee shop if you’d prefer to stay warm. Savannah, you fill Cam in on the team rules, the guidebook, and anything else you can think of.”
I nod, and without another word or glance in Cam’s direction, I turn and practically run down the hall and into my office. I shut and lock the door, trying to calm my racing pulse. Cameron Wild is just another hockey player in a long line of male athletes who’ve come through here over the years. Working with him should be no different than it was with any of the others. I’m essentially his boss, who knows the rules of this team inside and out, including the “don’t fuck a player” rule. So my whole want-to-jump-him fantasy is out the window. Except…
Why does my entire world feel like it just got tipped upside down?
Chapter Four
I sit on the players’ bench with Eric, the assistant coach, and watch “the new guy”— as Eric calls Cam—practice with the team for the first time.
“He’s spot on with those shots,” he comments as Cam rips another one into the net, angling it perfectly past the goalie’s outstretched hand. “Russo didn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it.”
“He’s ridiculously good,” I murmur as practice comes to a close and Cam takes off his gloves and helmet. Tossing them to the side, his practice shirt is next.
His torso covered in nothing but his pads and a tight-fitting t-shirt, he glances over to find me staring at him. Lusting after him would be more like it.
