“For what?” I said, sitting up straighter. “What exactly are we being punished for? Sayingno? For refusing to participate in a contract violation? For keeping our players focused when someone else is leaking and spinning false narratives to distract from their own failures?”
Rhett raised an eyebrow and tipped the bottle toward me in silent question. I nodded—sharply—and drained the rest of my glass before he even got the pour going. He refilled it without a word.
“You tell me,” I continued, calm and clipped even as my stomach twisted. “What precedent does this set, Hollis? That we’re responsible for the circus because we chose not to perform in it?”
There was silence. Glorious, telling silence.
Rhett leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed, eyes on me. His support was silent but fierce. I could feel it like gravity, steadying me.
“Fine,” the Vultures’ owner snapped. “Clearly, we’re not going to reach an agreement. Let the public decide.”
Oh, they would. And I knew exactly which team had more loyalty, more heart, andless bullshitto explain.
“I’ll be issuing a public statement shortly,” Carrie added. “I trust you’ll all do the same.”
Then—mercifully—there was a tone that indicated she’d rung off. The Vultures’ owner wasn’t far behind. Which left me, Marchand, and Hollis.
And wine. Thank god for the wine.
Thank god for Rhett too. When I raised the glass to him before I took another long swallow, his lips twitched into a small smile. His concern remained though, concern and support.
“I hope you both understand,” Hollis said, with a very long sigh, “I’m not trying to play favorites. But I’ve got a complaint on my desk, I’ve got media hounding every angle, and now I’ve got two teams breathing fire. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”
Marchand spoke before I could. “You could start by recognizing this isn’t on us. Wren is right. We were the ones approached. We didn’t solicit the player, we didn’t initiate contact, and wesure as helldidn’t agree to a trade.”
I blinked. Okay,damn. He was really going for it.
Marchand continued, calm but pointed. “Now they’re the ones leaking everything. And the timing? Right before playoff brackets get announced? Seems awfully convenient. Especially with the Vultures squeaking in on a wild card slot and the Howlers locked in as top seed.”
Hollis didn’t speak, but I could hear him listening.
So I went in for the final blow.
“How better to psych out a team and their fans than to sow discord right before round one?” I said quietly. “You don’t need a rulebook to know what this is. This is strategy. Off-ice warfare. And you don’t punish the team holding the line because someone else decided to light a match.”
Marchand exhaled through his nose. “She’s not wrong.”
I leaned my head back, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. Then Rhett was there, replacing my hand with his ownstrong grip and I damn near moaned as he worked the tension loose.
Hollis sighed. “Send me a copy of your internal timeline, Wren. And make sure there’s documentation for every time you said no. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Done.” With that, the line disconnected.
I let the phone slide to the counter and reached for my glass. My hands were shaking a little—just enough that Rhett noticed. He slid his hand around to cup my throat in a grip that was as much collar as it was support before he pressed a kiss to my temple. “You’re a goddamn force.”
“I need carbs,” I mumbled.
“I brought potatoes,” he murmured, teasing kisses along my cheek to my ear and a shudder went through me as my nipples went taut.
“I could kiss you.”
“You could,” he said with a low chuckle. “And later, youwill.”
“Later?” It came out more a whine than I meant for it too, but he scraped his teeth over my earlobe before he sucked on it and I went up on my toes.
One moment I had a wine glass in my hand, the next it was on the counter and Rhett had me up and on it as well. He stripped my sweats down in a movement so smooth, I barely saw it happen. Then he had my knees apart and his hands cupping my ass as he lifted me, his touch firm and demanding.
"Yes," he said in a husky voice as he took a deep breath. "I’m starving and I haven’t eaten you in three days…"
