Page 15 of Rookie Move

She could tell him what they’d done was a mistake and shouldn’t be repeated, but he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And as stupid as it was to pursue anything with her, he had every intention of making her cave.

“Yes, we got a puppy. Do we take turns taking him home with us?” Baz asked.

Rylie laughed. “Sorry, Baz. This dog isn’t like the class pet. We are going to be socializing him, and then when he’s a bit older, he’ll go through training to be a service dog. We paired up with Westie’s Warriors and the children’s hospital, and one of the kids will get to take this dog home with them eventually.”

“That’s awesome, but I can still take the pup home on weekends if Edwin needs a break,” Baz volunteered.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Edwin said.

“Let’s see if he likes the ice. He’s going to be a Striker, after all,” Baz said. “Can I take him? I’m great with dogs.”

“Sure,” Rylie replied as the leash was passed to Baz.

“What’s his name?” Harty asked.

“We’re going to run a contest with the fans. They’ll get to pick the name. We have a bunch of promos lined up, but I’d love to get a few pics and videos for social media of you guys with the dog,” Rylie said.

“Come on, little buddy,” Baz said, trying to get the puppy on the ice. He was a cute, tiny thing—the puppy, not Baz. No one would ever think of Baz as tiny.

He tentatively put a paw on the ice and lifted it back up, unsure of what to do. Then he lifted his leg and peed on the ice and Baz’s skate.

“Shit,” Baz said.

“Let’s hope not,” Harty replied, and everyone started laughing.

“Damn, pup. Right on my skate,” Baz muttered. “You done?” he asked, then picked the puppy up and put him directly on the ice.

“Here,” Harty said, sliding a puck toward the dog.

“Oh man, this is great,” Rylie said, snapping a few pictures with her phone. Her smile filled her face, her cheeks were pink. Then she looked up and caught him staring. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth before glancing back down at the dog.

It took everything Desmond had to not skate over to her.

Everything.

“If he shits on the ice, we’re sending him back,” Bugsy said.

“Oh, Dad. He’s just a puppy,” Rylie said.

Every time she said dad should be a reminder that she was off-limits, but the memory of their last kiss was too strong.

He’d resisted swinging into the office or popping up near her desk for the last week. That had to count for something.

Then she laughed and his entire body tingled. Fucking tingled.

He shifted on his skates and glanced in her direction, but she was focused on the puppy, who was trying to figure out how to get the puck in his mouth. The puppy was adorable.

Desmond missed having a dog. It was hard to have a pet when he was always on the road, but his parents still had two rescue dogs, Fraser and Jamie. They were both about seven now. Bonded brothers that his mom refused to separate when she’d adopted them. His dad had humored his mom, agreeing to name the dogs after his mother’s favorite character inOutlander. The woman had been obsessed with the books long before the television show came out.

She said she liked calling out Jamie Fraser when she tried to get them to come in from the backyard. Desmond shook his head at the image, biting back a laugh before he focused on the new Striker.

“Can we take a few pics? Then I’ll let you guys get back to practice,” Rylie said, holding out her phone.

“Yes, of course,” Bugsy said. The transformation between hard-ass coach and doting dad was jarring.

“I’ll hold him,” Desmond said. He noticed how she startled quickly, before her smile was back in place.

“Great idea. Newly traded player with our new Striker,” Rylie said, all business, except for her pink cheeks.

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