“And white men can’t jump if you believe the movies, but I can still get a three-pointer past you any day of the week.”
“And twice on Sunday,” I finished. “But only because you have half a foot on me.” Depending on whether you believed the official numbers they had on me or not.
He rolled his eyes. “More like because you can’t shoot hoops to save your life. Doesn’t matter. Don’t try to pull that shit on me. Your mom was the one who taught me to swim when we were growing up.”
“That doesn’t mean I can swim with a dog that weighs as much as me trying to slobber all over me in the water,” I pointed out. If they both decided to jump on me at the same time? I might as well be a dead man.
Sounded like it would be a fun day for the dogs, but…
Amanda had booked time for Max and Lola to go swimming at a dog pool. She said they needed to burn off their energy because they’d been driving her up the wall the whole time the team had been gone to San Jose. If she could take them out for a walk, of course, that would help immensely with their hyperactivity, but if RJ and I could barely handle the two of them together, there was no way Amanda could manage them both on her own. Don’t ask me how she thought she was going to deal with taking them swimming when she’d booked the session, because I couldn’t tell you, but together, RJ and I could manage it.
Which, now that I thought about it, was probably her plan all along—getting the two of us to take care of things so she wouldn’t have to.
Even if she was being lazy and expecting us to do everything for her dogs, it didn’t sound all bad.
Besides, spending some time in the pool might actually be soothing for my knee. It felt worse than it had last night, not that I intended to say a thing to the trainers about it. Based on my past experience and the way it kept trying to give out on me every now and then, I’d likely strained a ligament. I hoped it wasn’t anything worse, but whether it was or not, the last thing I needed was for the trainers to get wind of the severity and decide they needed to send me to the hospital for a bunch of tests. They might find an injury bad enough that they’d pull me from the lineup.
So as long as I could play through the pain, you could damn well bet I was going to do it. This was the playoffs. We had a legitimate shot at winning the Stanley Cup this year. I’d have to be on my deathbed to come out of the lineup without putting up one hell of a fight. I didn’t know for certain what this knee injury was, but it wasn’t bad enough for me to be sitting up in the press box and watching the boys take care of things down below.
That meant I needed to do as much self-care as possible—staying off it when I could, icing it every day, and that sort of thing. The pool sounded like a good way to get a bit of a workout in without putting any unnecessary pressure on the joint and muscles.
RJ grabbed his gym bag and raised his brow. “You gonna help me or not?”
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
Anne and one of her camera guys hustled into the room—this time she was using her crutches, at least—and took a quick look around to see who was still here…and an idea struck me.
An idea that probably meant I’d lost my mind.
Still, I’d rather she get more footage of me and RJ being goofballs with Max and Lola than trying to pick my brain on the state of the world considering that racism was still so rampant in this country. Surely she could find a way to use the footage.
“Okay with you if I invite Anne to tag along?” I asked him, never taking my eyes off her.
The laugh he let out said he agreed with my earlier assessment and I must be crazy. But he said, “Sure. Whatever you want to do.”
“You need my help getting them there, or what?”
He followed my eyes over to Anne, then he shook his head. “Nah. You just get whatever you’re swimming in and meet us there.” Then he rattled off the address and left, saying he’d be there with the dogs in forty-five minutes.
Anne and her cameraman were still surveying the almost empty room. Most of the guys had taken to clearing out fast since they’d been filming us. I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t keen on having my life put under the microscope, but the Storm organization hadn’t exactly given us any say in that matter. I crossed over to them, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Hey,” she said with a genuine smile.
“Hey.” I shrugged, trying to look casual even though this felt anything but casual. It almost felt like asking her out on a date, only I had the sense that I’d be a lot more comfortable doing that than this. “RJ and I are taking his dogs out again. To a place called Doggy Paddles this time. If you guys wanted to come with us…”
“Doggy Paddles?” she repeated, stifling a laugh. “Is that what it sounds like? A pool for dogs?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Something Amanda booked for them. She thinks it’ll help with their over-exuberance.”
“You promise they won’t sprain my other ankle?” Anne asked.
“I don’t think it’s possible to contain them enough to make any promises like that.” I winked. “Try to look mean or something. Maybe they won’t like you so much then.”
“I don’t know, they seem to like you just fine.”
I tried to pull off an offended look, sure I failed miserably even though I put a hand over my heart and everything. “You think I look mean?”
“I think you look like you’re trying to look mean a lot of times. Mainly on the ice, though.”
“When you’re the shortest guy in the league…”
“Nice try, but nope. Gerbe is shorter than you. I’ve interviewed him, and I was taller than him even in flats.”
“Might have been a slight exaggeration.”
“A slight exaggeration, kind of like that look you get right before a face-off.”
She wouldn’t give in. Which was kind of hot, in its own way. I chuckled. “You’re determined to wound my pride, aren’t you?”
“If that’s enough to wound your pride…”
“So are you coming? Or do you have something better to do?”
She glanced at her watch, then took out her cell phone and scrolled through a couple of screens before her eyes—gorgeous, honey-colored eyes with flecks of green that seemed so out of place yet so perfect—flashed back up to meet mine. “I’m all yours. Give me an address and we’ll be there.”
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Dave and I pulled up at Doggy Paddles, which turned out to be exactly what it sounded like: an indoor pool that catered solely to canine clientele and their human masters. I’d Googled it on the way, but I was still trying to process just what, exactly, we were getting ourselves into. Doggy Paddles worked with dogs of all ages, breeds, and sizes. They helped rehabbing injuries, held play therapy sessions, and offered any number of other amenities for their canine clients. Their humans could get in the pool with the dogs, but it wasn’t required, as one of the Doggy Paddles staff members would always be involved.
Required or not, something told me Nate and Riley Jezek would be in the water today. Those two dogs were going to be way too much for any one person to handle by themselves, no matter how much experience the staff here might have.
Dave parked and started unloading all his gear while I headed for the main doors, since I saw Nate and Jezek already in the lobby with Jezek’s two enormous dogs.
Nate held the door open for me while Jezek tried to hold both dogs back. They were barking up a storm and looked like they were either happy to see me or hoping to eat me for lunch, one of the two. On second thought, they might be happy to see me because they were planning to make a meal out of me. I tried to push that thought away and focus on the job at hand.
In Eye of the Storm’s second episode, I’d started to focus the show on some of the relationships between the people involved with the team. The idea had come to me after tagging along with Nate and Jezek that day at the International Rose Test Gardens. I’d taken it further than that by spending some time with other groups of friends and family within the t
eam.
I’d started with Jamie and Levi Babcock, two brothers playing for the Storm. Jamie was the team captain and married to Katie, who was the daughter of one of the coaches—David Weber. Levi was engaged to Cadence Johnson, who was the youngest sister of one of the older players on the team, Cam Johnson. Cam just so happened to be married to Scotty Thomas’s daughter, and Scotty had been the Storm’s coach once upon a time, but these days he was part of the scouting staff.
That was just one of the tangled groups of relationships on the team. Another grouping started with Brenden and Rachel Campbell. Brenden was a veteran player, and Rachel worked as the assistant to the general manager, a man who used to play with Brenden’s father. Brenden’s sister was married to the former Storm captain who was now playing for the expansion Tulsa Thunderbirds.
So far, that was as far as I’d delved into the inner dynamics among the players, but I knew there were many other layers to explore in future episodes.
Not only was it more interesting to me to explore the guys’ dynamics away from the rink and witness how that played out on the ice, but it made the story we were telling that much more personal. It gave the show a heartbeat. This wasn’t just about hockey; it was about everything that made these men tick.
A woman who looked like she worked at the doggy pool nodded at me as I came in. “Right. They told me you wanted to film today, which is fine as long as you and your crew stay out of our way. Safety is our biggest concern, so if we tell you to move, you’ve got to move. And we won’t be responsible for any damage to your equipment because of the water, so that’s on you.” Then she turned to the two guys. “You’re welcome to come into the water with us, but it’s not required. We’ll be fitting Max and Lola with water harnesses so I can assess their swimming ability. After today, they might not need them any longer. Is everyone ready to go?”
Max and Lola responded by barking and jumping around like they were puppies being unleashed into a pile of autumn leaves.
“I think that’s a yes,” Jezek said.
The woman laughed and glanced up as Dave came in with his cameras. “I’d say so. Off we go.” She nodded in my direction, then angled her head toward Dave. “You’ll fill him in?”
“I’m already on it.”
We followed her into the pool area. She took over putting the harnesses on the dogs while Nate and Jezek stripped down to their swim trunks. I scoped out the area and found a corner where we should be out of the way of anything but tidal-wave-sized splashes and still have good light and angles on the action. I nodded toward that spot. “Over here,” I said to Dave.
He came with me and took a minute or two to set up all his equipment while I gave him the bullet points. He’d barely started filming by the time the dogs were running along the edges and dipping their front toes into the water along the ledge, unsure what to think. This must be a new experience for them.
The woman in charge and the two guys got straight into the water. Lola seemed to think the fact that Nate was already in the water was good enough reason to believe that she wouldn’t die if she joined him, so she made a flying leap into the water, sending up a huge splash that drenched Max and nearly reached us. He barked indignantly, but a moment later, he followed her into the water.
For two dogs that had never gone swimming before, they took to it in no time.
The humans threw balls and other toys for the dogs to fetch, and within minutes, both dogs were paddling up and down the length of the pool, climbing out of it, jumping back in (and taking no notice whatsoever of whether a human or another dog was in their way while doing so), and otherwise having the time of their lives.
Nate and Jezek kept up a steady stream of banter, of the sort that would have to be bleeped out if this were to air on network television. Good thing we hadn’t been saddled with those restrictions for this web series, although, since it was meant for viewing by all ages, I’d be careful to select footage with a limited amount of cursing.
It was great, seeing these two hanging out together so far away from the pressure cooker of the playoffs, just being themselves and having a good time. In fact, I was pretty sure they forgot we were filming them after a bit—at least I thought they had until Nate turned his head and looked right at me, waggling his eyebrows only a nanosecond before Lola leaped on him and dunked him underwater with her front paws on his shoulders. He came up spluttering, and I grinned and shook my head.
It wasn’t just the dogs’ playfulness that had me enjoying myself, either. Nate and Jezek were hamming it up and having a grand old time. I had extreme difficulty not bursting out laughing at their antics, especially when Nate clearly sought me out and flexed his muscles with a wink. But I couldn’t allow myself to do that. Dave’s boom mic would pick me up. This wasn’t supposed to be about me but about the men in the water having a good time with the dogs.
There was so much laughter that they were getting out and drying off, the dogs shaking and spraying water everywhere, well before I expected the time to be up. I couldn’t help but stare at Nate as he tried to corral Lola so he could rub her dry with a towel, the beads of water glistening on his skin and emphasizing his chest and arm muscles. In fact, I might have even licked my lips before remembering I was supposed to keep this professional. At least he hadn’t seen me. I wasn’t quite so lucky with Dave if the twinkle in his eye was any indication.
I’d seen Nate half-naked plenty before over the last couple of seasons, when I’d gone into the locker room after practices and games to get a quick interview, but there was something special about seeing him like this, completely free and not being careful about what he did or said. We had a camera trained on him, but all indications pointed toward him starting to feel more like himself in front of it, less self-conscious and aware that everything he did and said was being recorded for posterity.
I finally ripped my eyes away from him, turning to Dave. “I think that’s good enough for today. We’ve got enough to work with.”
“Want me to head back up to the offices and see who I can scrounge up for an interview?” he asked me, starting to pack things away.
I shook my head. “Take the rest of the day off. Lord knows you’ve earned it. I’ve arranged for us to head back to Jamie Babcock’s house with him after morning skate tomorrow. I’ll take both you and Ben. Katie’s supposed to be there, and maybe her sister, too. I bet we can get some decent footage then.”
“You’re the boss,” he said.
I slung my backpack that was doubling as a purse onto my shoulders so I could easily crutch out of there once he was ready to go, but Nate looked over his shoulder and grinned.
“You’re already leaving?” he said.
I shrugged. “I think we’ve got enough for today.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, which sent a tingle racing through my belly and up to wrap around my heart. “I was just hoping I could take you out for coffee or something. So we could talk some more. But if you’ve got—”
“I don’t have any other plans,” I said a little too enthusiastically. “But I came with Dave. My car’s back at the practice facility.”
“Don’t use me as an excuse,” Dave muttered in my ear. “If you want to fuck up your career before you get too far into it, be my guest.”
I shot a glare in his direction.
“I could take you back to your car later,” Nate said.
“Good,” Dave said, loud enough for the guys to hear this time. “Because that’ll save me a ton of time. I can just go straight home.”
“Traitor,” I whispered.
He chortled. “This has been building up for way too long. Don’t even bother trying to deny it. No one who’s been watching the two of you in those interviews would buy it.”
“Not denying it.” I was just sulking because he was right. Nate and I had been building our flirtation for two years, so it felt almost inevitable to take things a bit further. Coffee was relatively safe in terms of our next steps, even if it might be d
angerous in terms of my career.
Might be? Who was I kidding?
But then again, I doubted I’d have this job much longer anyway. Would I really be hurting anything by crossing this line? Probably not.
I smiled across at Nate. “Go put some clothes on. I don’t mind the view, but food establishments have strange rules about shirts and shoes.”
He winked. “Damn rules.”
Indeed.
THE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN was just starting to drop in the sky, warming me through the massive coffee-shop windows. We’d been sitting here nursing our coffees and flirting outrageously for a couple of hours, if not longer.
It’d been so long since I’d taken an afternoon off, or even more than an hour off here and there, that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. That alone was enough to leave me giddy, but the floating sensation was amplified by how much I truly enjoyed being in Nate’s company. It felt as easy and natural as breathing. At least it did until he smiled at me again. Then I started soaring, and had to drink more coffee to ground myself.
I was now working on my third nonfat, decaf cappuccino, and Nate had just started on an Americano after finishing off two caramel macchiatos. Watching him drink that caramel goodness had done a real number on me, in more ways than one. I couldn’t understand how he could drink something so full of sugar without putting on twenty pounds, because I could barely look at the syrupy goodness without feeling my hips get wider. But then again, he worked out all the time, and his body was built to burn energy. Even if I was in the gym twenty-four seven, I doubted I could look half as good as he did.
And all this thinking about sweets wasn’t doing me any favors in another area. My stomach was starting to rumble with hunger noises, even though I wasn’t in any big hurry to leave; I’d rather sit and talk.
The whole time we’d been here, it was as if the world had melted away and it was just the two of us. No enormous dogs trying to jump all over either of us or eat us alive. No deadlines to meet. No high-stakes games to play. No reminders of all the crap we’d both been facing with the general public.
Game Breaker (Portland Storm Book 14) Page 7
