Page 9 of Puck Me Baby One More Time

“That’s amazing, Mr. Hayes. Most male-dominated organizations frown on females who are invading their turf.”

“Call me Colt, and I don’t want this team to be like the rest of the teams in the league. I want to celebrate gender equality.” I know he’s telling the truth because Teagan is making the exact same amount of money as her male counterparts. It’s not often that you find someone who believes in equality like Colt and his organization do.

I've often wondered why a great guy like Colt never married or had children. He's got the same dark hair and violet eyes that his brother, nephews, and niece have. It's very striking. Match that with his rooting-for-the-underdog attitude, and he would be a great catch for any woman or man, but once again, that's not my business.

My thoughts of Colt are cut short by the crackle of the intercom on his desk.

“Mr. Hayes, Mr. Thorson and Mr. James are here to see you,” Colt’s assistant says over the intercom.

“Send them in.”

The door opens, and two extremely handsome men walk into the room. One is tall with muscular, broad shoulders, brownish-red hair, and brown eyes, while the other is just as tall and muscular, only he's leaner. His hair is sandy blond, and his eyes are blue.

If I wasn't already half in love with Torin, Talen, and Tarek, I would definitely be interested in them.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm one hundred percent in love with Torin, Talen, and Tarek.

"Britt," Colt says, grabbing my attention.

Shoot, what did he say?

My eyes dart from Mr. Thorson to Mr. James, noticing their arms are extended as if expecting me to shake their hands. Taking the hint, I reach out my hand to Mr. Thorson, "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Call me Beck." He pumps my hand up and down several times before releasing it.

"Okay, Beck," I reply before turning to Mr. James.

"And call me Jensen or Jens." Mr. James takes my hand, repeating the handshake I received from Beck.

"Nice to meet you both." I nod as Jensen releases my hand.

"Britt has done a great job putting together an amazing media package for the team as part of her interview process." Colt's praise makes me smile, causing some of the anxiety I've been feeling about my new job to dissolve.

"It was my pleasure."

"I knew you were the right choice for the job," Colt says. "There's a photo shoot for a national sports magazine coming up. They want to feature the Hayes family, current and former players. A family legacy story. They want to celebrate the passing of the torch, per se, and I want you to attend the shoot to get a behind-the-scenes angle for our fans to post on the team's social media sites."

This is such a fantastic opportunity that I can't contain my excitement. "That would be perfect for our fans." I beam, unable to stop the smile that spreads across my face.

"I love your enthusiasm." Jensen laughs. "I think you're right, Colt; she is the perfect person for the job."

Both Colt and Beck nod in agreement.

I need to leave Colt's office before I embarrass myself by gushing at all their praise. "I better get down to the ice and take some pictures for our fans," I say as I rush to the door.

"Don't forget to get some pictures of the Valkyrie," Colt calls after me.

"Will do," I say, and for some odd reason, I turn and salute them before I leave the room. The sound of deep chuckles follows me down the hallway.

The sight of Torin, Talen, and Tarek slashing across the ice, handling the puck and their sticks better than anyone else— even Teagan, Fin, Coulter, and Royal—is almost magical. The way they can anticipate each other's moves has me so captivated that I nearly forget to take the pictures I'm hired to take.

Teagan, Fin, Coulter, and Royal are all amazing athletes, but they're still rookies and will have a learning curve playing in the pros before they reach the same level as Torin, Talen, and Tarek.

My panties dampen just watching them, and I have to remind myself I'm here to do a job, not lust after them like some puck bunny.

I focus my attention on some of the other players, snapping a few more pictures and getting at least one picture of each of the players before I turn to the ice girls or, I guess, Valkyrie, as Colt called them.

They're running dance moves on the stairs, practicing for a real game when they will be cheering from the aisles. I recognize Tiffany, the head cheerleader. She barks out insults to the cheerleaders she is supposed to be mentoring. The typical mean girl. She seems to be focusing her energy on a petite blonde dancer. If I remember correctly, from the cheerleading roster Colt gave me, her name is Gemma. She's new this year, just like me.

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