Thomas Lyle sighed heavily. “Ms. Barrow, it’s not your job to tell us which players to include in this year’s roster, and which ones we shouldn’t.”
“No, of course not. But it is my job to tell you that not including Blake would be a colossal mistake.”
The coach snorted and glanced at the goal that Blake Ford was currently guarding as effectively as Ada guarded a cookie jar. “Yeah, the competition would be happy if we put him on the team,” he replied dryly.
Hazel sighed heavily. “Fine. Can I talk to you for a minute, Gareth? It’s about the paperwork we talked about yesterday.”
Ah, yes, the sex clauses. He should win a prize for not flinching at the thought.
“Oh, have you finally agreed on Devreaux?” Penny asked enthusiastically.
“No. But that’s next,” Hazel promised. “Is there somewhere we can talk…privately?”
“I have an office up there,” Gray replied crisply, nodding up a flight of stairs. “I’ll only give it to you if Devreaux is on the ice for us in two weeks, when the season starts.”
“We’ll figure that out,” Gareth replied. “Right, Hazel?”
Hazel’s gaze slid briefly to Penny, who looked at the two of them in surprise, but then nodded. Apparently, she remembered that in Penny’s presence, she was only allowed to speak to him politely and professionally. “Sure. It’s as good as settled.”
Everyone present seemed skeptical and he didn’t blame them. But maybe they could talk about sexandDevreaux, since they were talking about contracts.
“You were under a coffee table?” Hazel asked, puzzled, as they hurried up the stairs. “I mean, I wouldn't be surprised about the coffin in your basement that protects you from the sun, but a coffee table?”
Gareth smiled. He couldn’t help it. Why should he get upset about the woman who made him feel so relaxed?
“What’s so funny?”
“You.”
“Um…thanks?” she replied, confused.
His smile widened.
He’d expected the atmosphere between them to be even more strained than it usually was, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, he felt strangely relaxed; he was no longer maintaining a facade. She knew he wanted her. He knew she wanted him. And they both knew they could barely stand each other.
Everything important had been said, so what was there left to lose? His mind wasn’t his own anymore, anyway. Maybe Cian was right and he should just enjoy the mess he’d gotten himself into.
Even though that still sounded wrong to him.
“You know,” he said, holding open the door to the small room. The huge pane of glass facing the rink was mirrored on the outside, as if the players weren’t supposed to know the coach was constantly watching them. “Over the past few years, I’ve forgotten that you don’t talk bullshit to annoy people, but simply because you’re so damn good at it that it would be a waste not to.”
Hazel laughed. “You’ve captured my essence. So…no explanation about the coffee table?”
“Oh, speaking of coffee tables,” he said roughly, leaning against the door. “It’s better to talk about yours, the one you put your feet up on and spread your legs while you…”
She quickly pressed a finger to his mouth, her pupils slightly dilated. “You could have been professional and politely asked if I slept well,” she whispered seriously, though he saw her swallow before her gaze flicked for a second to her finger on his lips.
“Ah,” he remarked, nodding and slowly pulling it down. “Okay. How did you sleep?”
Hazel took a step back. “I hardly slept at all. I was busy with this, so you’re only allowed to make sexual innuendos outside of work hours.” She pulled a folder from her briefcase and handed it to him.
He laughed softly. “God, you’re the only person in the world who enjoys writing contracts more than I do.”
“And, I do it better.”
Snorting, he walked around her and opened the folder on the room’s only empty desk. “I’ll be the judge of that. Please tell me the wordsgummy bearsaren’t in it.”
She grinned and braced her hands on the desk next to the paperwork. “No. But Milky Way is. Though I think you’ll like it. Clause X-11.”
