Page 9 of Snowed In With the PUCK

He blinks, still looking like a man starved for my lips, my body, but then he nods. “No problem.”

I nod once like a military captain to a recruit, then I march out of the kitchen, heart racing. I don’t dare look back. I won’t admit to him that I want more.

I’m going to need to dig deep after that moment of weakness. What just happened? And why did I let it happen?

I spend the next five hours in my office in Denver, trying to shake off the weird energy lingering in my mind. A calendar notification brings me out of my daze.

“Shit—of all the days forthatto happen…” Today is the day Eric is scheduled for his first community event. And I have to be there. I can’t think about the kiss. I won’t think about it.

By the time I arrive at the community event, I’ve convinced myself the little smooch from earlier meant nothing. Just an accident, a fluke. I won’t mention it and if he does, I’ll pretend like he’s nuts and ignore the comment.

I walk to the community center. It’s new and looks upscale. I smile at the feeling of goodwill around me. Kids are running around, and families are chatting excitedly as they wait for the official introduction of Eric “Gator” Warren to the community as the newest player for the Denver Avalanche. It’s the first big event to welcome him to the city, and it was my idea. I hope it goes well.

I’m supposed to be overseeing things, making sure Eric is engaging with the fans, the media, all that PR that Kip insisted on. I join Eric and Kip’s PA in the building, but he’s busy already meeting and greeting local officials and letting the PA lead him from one group of people to another.

This continues outside, too.

Good. So far, everything is going well. Except, I keep catching him glancing at me, like he’s trying to read me. Every time our eyes meet, my stomach flips a little, and it’s driving me insane.

I watch as he kneels down to sign a kid’s hockey jersey, his smile soft and genuine. The kid’s face lights up, and something aboutthe way Eric interacts with him catches me off guard. He’s not putting on a show. He’s just… beingkind. I’d pegged him as cocky, too full of himself to care about anyone else, but seeing him like this, I realize there’s more to him than I thought.

He stands up, ruffling the kid’s hair, and I have to remind myself to breathe. This isn’t the Eric I studied and gathered data on for my job. This guy in front of me is someone else entirely.

He walks over toward me, and I meet him head on. I’m in work mode, so there’s no place to be a shy wallflower now.

“Hey Eric,” I say crisply.

“Everything going the way you wanted?” Eric’s voice melts me, and he is standing just a little too close for comfort. His eyes are curious, amused.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, forcing a smile. “Good job with the kids. They love you.” I look away, cursing at my use of the word “love.” I say too brightly, “Everything’s going smoothly so far.”

He raises his eyebrows. “It sure is. You can probably bounce out of here, if you want. Kip’s PA has it all under control.”

I bristle at that insinuation that I’m not needed at my own event. “I’m fine staying. Just need to keep an eye on you.”

His grin widens. “Keep an eye on me, huh? That sounds… nice.” His eyes twinkle at me.

I flush, realizing how that sounded. “Not like that. I’m just… you know. Making sure you’re doing your job.”

“Right,” he says, clearly enjoying this too much. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

He steps a little closer, his voice lowering, his lips intentionally near mine as he whispers, “Call me crazy, but it seems like you’ve been acting weird ever since our little moment this morning, you know that?”

I feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eric smirks. “Sure you don’t.”

I swallow, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing. “Look, we’re here to work, not indulge in your delusions, Eric. This event is important for your public image, and I’m not going to let you screw it up by getting distracted.” I say all this with a pageant-worthy smile on my face.

He looks at me for a long moment, his expression challenging, but then he surprises me. He doesn’t argue or tease. Instead, he just nods. “Okay. You’re right. There are lots of kids here who want to meet me. Let’s focus on the event.”

I try to hide my shock behind the action. I gesture to the PA who is waving at him to come join her. We spend the next hour moving from one group of people to the next, with Eric signing autographs, taking pictures, and talking to fans. But every time he interacts with someone, I can’t help but notice how genuinehe seems. He’s not just playing a part, I’d swear on my life that he’s really trying.

Eventually, we end up at the community snack table. I see a photographer approaching and immediately think about how messy the table is. I quickly try to organize the refreshments while Eric grabs a bottle of water. He leans back against the table, watching me as I fuss over some spilled cups.

“You’re kind of a control freak, aren’t you?” he says, amusement in his voice.

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m organized. There’s a difference.” I nod to the photographer who has been waylaid by the PA. Good. “I wanted things to look good for the cameras, that’s all.”

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