Page 7 of Ice-Cold Truth

“Then we’ll have the ammunition we need to take down Reginald Matthews.” There’s a glint of something predatory in Kobin’s faded blue eyes. “And send a message that this sort of conduct won’t be tolerated.”

I chew my lower lip, weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, the potential to uncover wrongdoing and seek justice isincredibly compelling, but on the other, the risk of alienating Sam and losing Jack before I even have a chance with him…

Kobin seems to sense my internal struggle. “I’ll understand if you need some time to mull it over, Miss Masterson. This is a weighty decision that could shape the course of many lives—including your own.”

He lets the weight of his words hang in the air between us. I can practically see the calculations being made. He knows he’s baiting me with precisely the sort of high-stakes, high-impact case any fledgling lawyer dreams of sinking their teeth into, and I’m not even a lawyer yet. Two years into pre-law hardly qualifies. It shouldn’t sway me, but damn him, it’s working.

I meet his piercing stare once more, my jaw set in determination. “No need to mull it over, sir. I’m in.”

The barest hint of a smile spreads across his weathered features. “Excellent. Then allow me to provide you with the key details thus far…”

He launches into an overview of the case, laying out the allegations against Matthews in stark detail. With each passing minute, my resolve hardens. If even half of what he’s saying is true, then Matthews’ actions aren’t just unethical but criminal. Endangering players’ lives, covering up injuries, bullying and intimidation tactics—it’s all utterly reprehensible.

As he concludes his summary, I lean forward in my seat, hanging on to his every word. “What’s our next move?”

“For now?” He leans back. “You’ll attend the Firebirds’ practice sessions. Get a lay of the land, so to speak. See if you can pick up on any tensions or whispers among the players and staff.”

I nod, my mind already whirring with possibilities. “Consider it done.”

The smile returns as he rises from his chair, extending his hand. “Welcome aboard, Miss Masterson. I have a feeling you and I are going to make an excellent team.”

Chapter 4: Jack

Iglance over at Elyse curled up on the couch, her long legs tucked beneath her as she reads a case file. The soft lamplight casts a warm glow over her features, and I’m captivated by the way her brow furrows in concentration. A loose tendril of dark hair falls across her face, and she tucks it back absently, her olive eyes never leaving the pages before her.

An unexpected surge of affection washes over me. This woman has somehow managed to slip past the walls I’ve carefully constructed around my heart since Karina. I shake my head, bemused by the realization that I actually want her in my life as more than just my teammate’s little sister.

The scent of pizza wafts up from the kitchen, where Sam is putting the finishing touches on his signature deep dish. My stomach rumbles in anticipation. Elyse must hear it because she looks up, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” I say with a chuckle. “Sam’s cooking always does that to me.”

She closes the file, rising from the couch with a languid stretch that draws my gaze to the slender curves of her body. Get a grip, Ford. This is Masterson’s sister you’re ogling.

She nods. “My folks and I have missed his cooking. If it hadn’t been for hockey, he’d have been a chef.”

“No doubt.” Clearing my throat, I gesture toward the kitchen. “Shall we?”

Elyse nods, falling into step beside me as we make our way down the hall. Sam greets us with a wide grin, dishing out generous slices onto paper plates. “Best pizza in Seattle,” he declares proudly. “Maybe even the whole Pacific Northwest.”

We settle around the breakfast bar, digging into the cheesy, sauce-laden masterpiece. For a few minutes, the only sounds are appreciative hums. Finally, Sam breaks the silence. “So, any big plans for your night off, sis?”

She shakes her head. “Just catching up on some work for the internship.”

“On a Friday night?” Sam tsks disapprovingly. “You need to get out more. All work and no play…”

“I get plenty of play,” she retorts, arching one sculpted brow. “I’m just being responsible.”

Elyse’s idea of “play” flashes through my mind. I force them, and an accompanying surge of jealousy, away to focus on the matter at hand.

Sam shoots me a sidelong glance, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes. “Actually, I had an idea about that…”

Here it comes. I tense, bracing myself for a madcap Sam scheme.

“Hear me out,” he says, turning his attention back to Elyse. “Jack’s been taking a beating in the press lately over his ‘bachelor lifestyle.’” He air-quotes the last two words with his fingers. “The gossip rags can’t get enough of his supposed string of one-night stands and casual flings.”

Elyse’s eyes flick toward me, her expression unreadable. I fight the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

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