I’m not above begging at this point. Lainy sighs heavily but lets it go. She’s heard this before. My daughter shakes her head, but does the same. I know they want me to have a great life, but why can’t they understand that I already do? A man isn’t going to make it better. In my experience, men only make it worse. Drea takes pity on me and changes the subject.
It’s only later that night, when I’m in bed alone, that I can quietly admit to myself that I may want something more than what I have now and that there may be room for someone else in my life. Why is Damon the first person I think of?
My Saturday morning headache is no surprise, but it’s not pleasant. Ugh, girls’ night is fun, but the following day is rough. Not only am I not a morning person, but I’m not much of a drinker, so my mood is a bit down as I stumble into the kitchen for my morning cup of espresso and a pain reliever.
Yes, I admit it—I’m a coffee snob. I’m also a five-espresso-a-day person because caffeine is life. Let’s be honest, that first cup of the morning is pure bliss. Sometimes it’s only the reason I’m able to pull myself out of bed. When my kids were younger, I made sure they understood the coffee rule: don’t talk to Mom before she’s had her coffee; proceed at your own risk.
I take my cup out to the back porch. It’s still early at eight in the morning, and there’s a nice cool breeze, so it hasn’t warmed up yet. Abby follows me out to do her morning sniff around the backyard. I sit on my comfy outdoor sofa and watch her prance around doing her morning business. It’s our morning ritual and my favorite part of the day. Coffee, sunshine, and my doggo. What more could I want?
I love this house. I bought it after Kurt died because I couldn’t stand to raise my kids in that mausoleum he called home. It was an enormously austere mansion, but it wasn’t a home. Nothing about it was homey in any way. I was relieved to leave the bad vibes and stuffy staff behind us when we moved out. It’s still sitting there, empty and alone, waiting for one of the kids to claim it, but I doubt either of them will want it. It’s full of sadness and disappointing memories. I hope they’ll eventually sell it because I’m positive no one wants to live there. It’s been in the family a long time, but I don’t think even that will save it.
But this house? This house feels like a home. It’s comfortable and lived-in, even without the kids. It’s a place where people can hang out and relax. Sure, with six bedrooms and seven bathrooms, it’s large, but it still feels cozy and inviting. I love my huge farmhouse kitchen with its oversized walk-in pantry and French doors that open onto the back porch. The spacious backyard has a southern exposure, so the morning sun lights up the whole back half of the house, including the kitchen. Just walking into it brightens my day.
Saturday is supposed to be my day off, but I sometimes head to the arena to get some work done while no one is around. The fact that Damon works most Saturdays has nothing to do with this choice. Nothing at all.
There’s so much to do, and today, I need to meet with the auditors while everyone is out of the office. Jacob’s busy spending the day with his fiancée, so this meeting is all on me.
I’m reasonably sure I know what the auditing firm will find, but I need some conclusive evidence so I can not only fire Bill’s ass but also potentially convict him of fraud. It’s unbelievable how much I’m looking forward to getting rid of the pretentious prick.
I already have someone in mind to replace him, along with some solid leads on the rest of the staff. At this point, it’s unclear who’s trustworthy and who isn’t. I’m willing to replace the whole damn staff if necessary, but I won’t know the extent of the damage until today’s meeting. As it is, Bill is due back from vacation later next week and plans to be back in the office the next Monday. I plan to be prepared.
But that’s tomorrow’s worries, for now, I’m taking my puppy for a run.
Chapter Twelve
Damon
I enjoy coming into work when the office is empty. It helps me think, and I accomplish so much more without distractions. For the past week, I’ve been socializing more than working, especially with all the new people we’ve hired. Joslyn, Jacob, and I are trying to make the new hires feel at home. I don’t mind it, but the desk work is piling up. I haven’t even looked at any of the player tapes Jonesy sent me. Today’s plan is to tackle some of the work I’ve been putting off. It’s only the middle of July, but there’s still so much preparation to be done for training camp in September.
This year, I plan to shake things up for camp. I want to see what everyone is made of, including the guys returning from last year. Every spot on this team will be earned—enough with the “good old boy network” from Tad’s reign of terror. The more I find out about him, the more I realize how much of an asshole he was, not only as a boss but also as a human being. I can only imagine that Kurt was the same or worse.
I keep trying to recall memories of Joslyn from my rookie days, hoping it’ll give me some insight into her marriage. My stomach drops every time she talks about Kurt, and my gut tells me that it was even worse than I’ve imagined. I do remember hating the way he treated her like an object, not a person.
I have a vivid memory of watching them leave the arena one night after a game. She stumbled at the curb, swaying slightly on her high heels, but he didn’t even stop to help her. He just looked annoyed and barked something at her. I couldn’t catch what he said, but the irritated tone was loud enough for me to hear. I’ll never forget the look on her face; she flinched at the sound of his voice before hurrying to catch up with him, shoulders hunched, face carefully blank. He grabbed her arm roughly and practically dragged her the rest of the way to the car. I saw red, but I was halfway across the parking lot, and they were driving away before I could get my temper under control enough to decide what to do. My inaction that day is something I’ve always regretted.
I’d been an aggressive kid back then, on and off the ice. After much personal reflection, I’ve realized that a part of my anger stems from the helplessness I felt about her situation. I fantasized about riding in on my white horse and saving her. How I was going to accomplish that was never part of the fantasy, but I was convinced she needed saving. It breaks my heart to know my younger self was right, at least about that.
Every day, I wake up eagerly anticipating an opportunity to see her, talk to her, and be near her. Her beauty makes me catch my breath every time she walks into a room. She’s my type in every way, inside and out. There’s an inner beauty to her, and it shines through everything she does. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her. If she weren’t my boss, nothing and no one would stand in the way of my pursuing her. I’m not entirely sure the boss thing is going to stop me. Yeah, I’m pretty far gone.
The woman invades not only my dreams on a nightly basis, but my daytime reality as well. I’ll admit I love it. Seeing and talking to her every day is incredible, but I want more. I’m using every excuse possible just to be near her. Even a casual touch is electric. It has my dick hard and my heart racing—hand at her back, on her arm to steady her on the stairs, a touchon the shoulder for encouragement. I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me, but I can’t help but want more. So much more.
My laptop beeps with a new email, pulling me back to the present. I need to stop daydreaming and get to work. I head to the break room to grab another cup of coffee before I key up the first of the tapes from Jonesy. His note said he’d found an exciting lead on a Canadian player from Nova Scotia. Seems the kid has an excellent chance at being part of next year’s draft. Jonesy’s incredibly skilled at spotting young talent, so I always review anything he sends me. I sip my coffee and start the tape.
An hour later, I’m impressed as hell. This kid’s incredible. There are a lot of talented kids out there, but he puts them all to shame. It’s not just his skills with the puck or his speed, both of which are phenomenal. It’s his innate understanding of the game and his inherent ability to know where to be at the perfect time. You can’t teach that kind of talent.
I make a note for Jonesy to keep an eye on this Ryder Davis kid. Looks like he’s currently playing for Denver University but wasn’t part of the draft this year. Right in our backyard. Way to go, Jonesy. At least we have some good prospects for the future. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.
Our organization has already secured some season tickets for this academic year, so I’ll make sure to check out a couple of games. Maybe Lexi or Joslyn will want to go as well, or better yet, both. Joslyn has such a fantastic relationship with her own daughter, and the thought of our daughters becoming friends warms my heart.
Two hours later, I’m interrupted by a loud bark. I can’t help but smile with anticipation because a bark means Joslyn and Abby are in the office. She comes in occasionally on Saturdays, and I’ll admit I was hoping she’d be in today. Maybe I can persuade her to get some dinner at the diner again. I’ve secretly begun to think of it as our place.
In seconds, Abby’s sitting patiently at my feet, waiting for a treat. I may or may not have gotten a massive box of organic dog treats fromAmazon. I mean, who could resist those adorable eyes? So yes, I am the proud new owner of a box of dog treats. I’m sure I have “sucker” written across my forehead, but I’m not mad about it.
I hold out her treat, giving her soft ears a caress. She’s such a sweetheart. I’ve never had an opinion about dogs at work before, but I’m now solidly in the “yes” camp. I look forward to seeing her every day. Well, and her owner.
Okay, her owner, most of all.
Chapter Thirteen
