Page 44 of Bar Down

"How?" Alarm shot through her.

"She specifically asked me to tell you about the schedule change." He pulled the corrected shirt back on. "And pointed out my wardrobe malfunction."

Stephanie pressed a hand to her mouth, caught between mortification and laughter. "Oh god. We're terrible at this."

"We need a better game plan." Despite his serious tone, she saw the rare smile tugging at his mouth.

"We'll have to be more careful." Stephanie straightened her own clothing, attempting to look professional again though she knew her flushed skin and tousled hair told a different story. "Maybe establish some ground rules."

Marcus nodded, though his eyes lingered on her in a way that made her skin heat all over again. "After the video session. I need to hit the ice."

"Right. Hockey first." The words came out without bitterness—she understood the priorities at play.

As he gathered his tablet, Stephanie calculated how quickly the video session would end and when they might resume their interrupted exploration. The way Marcus looked at her suggested he was thinking the same thing.

"We'll continue analyzing potential suspects later," she said, adopting her professional tone though the heat in her eyes belied her words.

"I look forward to exploring all possibilities," he replied with a hint of suggestion in his usually straight-faced delivery.

Chapter Ten

Stephanie

Stephanie watched from the press box as the Charm City Chill took the ice for warmups. Her professional mask was firmly in place—back straight, clipboard in hand, expression neutral—despite the butterflies that erupted in her stomach every time number 47 skated into view.

Sixty-two hours until the hackers deadline, and they still didn’t know what Reed wanted. And yet, here she was acting like a teenager with her first crush. Completely unprofessional. Absolutely reckless. She couldn't bring herself to regret a single moment of last night's interrupted encounter.

After Marcus had left for the video session, she'd spent twenty minutes pacing her hotel room, alternating between analyzing what had happened and remembering the feel of his hands on her skin. The pressure of his fingers finding each knot in her muscles. The heat in his eyes when she'd turned to face him. The surprising softness of his lips against hers. They'd been interrupted before things went too far, but the direction had been crystal clear—and mutual.

Now, watching him move through warmup drills, Stephanie noticed details she'd previously overlooked. The power in his stride as he built speed, pushing off with controlled force rather than flashy moves like some of the forwards. The way his shoulders set before taking a shot, a subtle tell she'd somehow missed despite watching hundreds of practices. The intensity in his eyes when Coach Vicky demonstrated a defensive adjustment, as if he was calculating angles and probabilities in real time.

Man, she was in trouble.

"Earth to Stephanie," a voice beside her said.

Stephanie startled, nearly dropping her clipboard as she turned to find Lauren, Jax's wife and the team's unofficial "captain of significant others," looking at her with knowing amusement. Lauren’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her Chill scarf draped artfully around her shoulders.

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