Page 44 of Conrad

She stopped at a box of dark-blue jerseys as they walked to the front, feeling the material. “What might it cost to get new jerseys printed?”

Grant wore a pair of khakis, a jersey with the Ice Gear Depot brand on the breast. Short brown hair, a little paunch, he turned and walked backward, hand out. “Glad to help EmPowerPlay with a discount, Miss Pepper.”

Oh.Conrad must have filled him in on who he was meeting. “Thank you.”

He flashed a thumbs-up and glanced at Conrad, andah,this was all about King Con and his involvement. Maybe even an endorsement.

Everyone wanted a piece of Conrad. Even her, apparently.

So maybe he wasn’t the villain in this agreement.

Grant ushered them into an office, and on the table lay an assortment of gear—a couple helmets, sample jerseys, socks, two types of skates, padding, and composite as well as wooden hockey sticks.

Conrad walked over to the sticks, picked one up, seemed to weigh it.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted as far as gear, so I pulled some choices.”

She picked up a helmet, this one without a cage. “Do they come with face protection?”

“We have combo helmets. It is cheaper to get the combo than to buy them separately, but not everyone likes a cage.”

“They’re kids. Get the cage,” Conrad said. “No need to lose any teeth.”

She noticed he had perfect teeth and suddenly wanted to ask. Instead, “I agree. Combo helmets. And mouth protection.”

“Absolutely.” Grant had pulled out a tablet, started to mark up their order.

She picked up the other helmet. “What’s the difference?”

Conrad put down his stick. “The brain protection. That one has an impact foam liner for the harder hits.”

She had seen his game while cooking, and her bones ached just watching the hits against the board. Now she studied him, just for a moment, as he picked up the padding and inspected it. Tall, yes, but he also possessed a chiseled form to his body that she guessed meant hours in the gym as well as on the ice. Tight core, strong legs, corded shoulders that filled out his jacket. Capable of giving—and taking—a beating.

What if this wasn’t a fake date? What if it might be?—

Aw. Stop. He’d set the rules.

Fine.She could play the game too. She put on the helmet, then pulled out her phone. “Can we get a selfie?”

Conrad’s brows arched, then he lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

She smiled for the camera, wearing the ridiculous helmet, and he leaned down, made a couple bunny ears. Okay, that was cute. She snapped it.

Done. Date accomplished.

Conrad picked out protective gear—shoulder pads, elbow pads, gloves, shin guards, pants, and bags to store them. “Can we get the kit price for these?”

“Absolutely,” Grant said.

“Throw in some socks?”

“Just tell me how many.”

He glanced at Penelope, but she shrugged.

“I think we have twenty kids.” He picked up the stick. “And two dozen wooden sticks. I’ll teach them how to cut them down to size and wrap them.”

He walked over to the skates. “You don’t have any discontinued brands, do you? Maybe throw those in, write it off?”

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