Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)

“This is so neat, Poppy. Thanks so much for doing this.” Jenni Malthus, one of the board members of Jacksonville General Hospital, walks at my side. Her colleagues—both named John—follow behind us.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” I assure her. “If we hurry, I think we’ll just catch the tail end of practice.”

We just spent the last two hours in the executive boardroom, finalizing all the details for our upcoming fundraiser. It’s my first big charity event as head of PR for the Rays. As a little sweetener, I promised them all a quick behind-the-scenes tour.

“The Rays are having a great season so far,” says John One.

“Early buzz says they might just make the playoffs,” John Two echoes.

“Hey, you better knock on wood,” I tease. “You know how superstitious these hockey players are. Mentioning the playoffs around here is like saying ‘Macbeth’ in the theater.”

They all laugh as I lead the way down the hall toward the public atrium. Above our heads, the hallway lights flicker.

“Do they always do that?” asks John One.

“Oh, just the joys of new construction,” I say with an airy wave. I tap my keycard on the door lock, and it beeps green. “Sometimes the generators fritz,” I add, pulling the door open.

And the air conditioning…

And I still don’t have a working phone or internet in my office.

“Are you going to bid on any of the silent auction items?” Jenni asks.

“Of course.” I slip my keycard back in the pocket of my lilac sheath dress. “How can I pass up the chance to win a yacht cruise?”

“I have my eye set on that golf package,” says John Two.

“You’re new to the area, right?” Jenni goes on.

Before I can answer, someone calls my name.

“Poppy St. James, as I live and breathe.”

My shoulders stiffen as I spin around. Lukas is striding toward us looking fresh from a shower. His cheeks are pink, eyes bright. The hair at his nape is still wet. “Shouldn’t you be playing hockey?” I say. “We were just heading over to catch the end of practice.”

“We finished early,” he replies with an easy smile.

What the heck is he doing? The last time we spoke, we were like two angry cats in a bag. Now he’s practically purring at me. Why do I feel the sudden urge to check that my purse isn’t full of Jell-O?

He looks from me to the JGH reps. “Hi, Lukas Novikov, best damn defenseman in the League.” He holds out a hand to Jenni first. She shakes it, and I do an obligatory round of introductions. The reps are all smiling like a trio of eager squirrels. It’s maddening.

“Did you need something, Lukas?”

“I do,” he replies, flashing me that crocodile smile. “I need to talk to you about the contract I sent over on Sunday. Did you get it?”

Oh, he is not doing this now!

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” I reply crisply.

He fakes a confused look. “Hmm, I never heard from you. Best practice should probably be that you shoot me a reply, just so I’m not worrying.”

I smile, gesturing to the JGH reps. “Well, as you can see, I’ve been a little busy this week, planning for the fundraiser.”

And dodging my mother’s increasingly urgent calls.

And my sister’s barrage of whiny, desperate text messages.

And all my social media accounts, which are still buzzing with the news of the wedding.

Oh, and Colton, my dream boyfriend, who I now feel like I’ve cheated on thanks to the walking red flag standing in front of me.

“I get it,” he says with a solemn nod. “You’re too busy to answer emails from us lowly players. Or a text. I sent you a text too. Did you get that?”

“I got your text.”

“And left me on read.”

Jenni and the Johns glance between us, their eyes darting like they’re watching ping pong.

“Poppy’s a tough woman to pin down,” Lukas says at Jenni with a wink. “Always playing hard to get.”

Jenni smiles. “Well, she’s in high demand.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he replies. “In high demand and highly demanding.”

Oh god.

I step over to him, placing my hand on his arm. “Why don’t we set up an appointment to go over all the particulars later this week?”

“Particulars?” He feigns confusion again, even going so far as to scratch his head. “I thought everything in the contract was all pretty straightforward. I mean, I used the template you provided. Is your name spelled incorrectly?”

“Yes, I noticed you added me.” I really hope he can read the “curl up and die” message I’m blinking at him right now. The jerk just smiles wider. “And I’ll be happy to be your representative on this deal.” I turn to Jenni and the Johns. “Lukas just secured a lucrative endorsement deal.”

“Ooh, with who?” chimes Jenni.

Lukas looks slowly down at me, still grinning. “Yeah, Pop, with who?”

I laugh, squeezing his arm tighter. “Oh, you know we can’t share that quite yet, not before the ink’s dry. Gotta cross all those Is and dot those Ts.”

“I think you got those backward, Pop,” he teases.

“I know.”

“You’re squeezing my arm kinda tight there, Pop.”

“I know. Would y’all please excuse us for one teensy moment?”

“Sure,” says Jenni, looking a little crestfallen that I’m taking him away. It shouldn’t bother me. She’s young and single, and so is he. For all I know, she could be another willing name to add to his stack of sex contracts.

Over my dead body.

I dig my nails tighter into his arm, leading him down the hall.

“Say, have you tried the coffee cart?” he calls over his shoulder. “Best macchiatos in Jacksonville. And the almond biscotti are to die for. Why don’t you go tell Gavin to put your orders on my tab? Our intrepid PR director will be along in just a minute.”

We turn the corner, and I’m seething as I open the door to a utility closet and pull him in behind me.

“Is this your new office?” he says, glancing around at the cleaning supplies and the mop bucket. “Nice. Definitely an improvement. I can see they’re really paying you the big bucks—ow!” He rubs his bicep as I shake out my fist. “What was that for?”

“You know what that was for,” I hiss. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

“I think this is gonna leave a bruise.”

“Oh yeah? Well, consider us even.”

His expression flickers with alarm. “Wait, I bruised you? Where?”

“Are you freaking kidding me? You took a literal bite out of my shoulder, Lukas.”

His gaze heats, and I know he’s picturing it. “Oh, yeah…that.”

“Yes, that. And I bruise like a peach. I couldn’t run in my sports bra for days because you could see the marks from all your fake freaking teeth!”

His expression flashes with hot indignation. “Hey, not all my teeth are fake—”

“I am not trapped in this smelly mop closet with you to discuss which of your teeth are fake!”

He crosses his arms, those tatted biceps bulging. “Then why are we in here, Poppy?”

“Because you just—”

“And you’re not trapped.”

I blink up at him. “What?”

“This door doesn’t even lock,” he says, reaching over and jiggling the handle. “You could leave at any time. So, not trapped.”

“I’m emotionally trapped! Lukas, you can’t approach me at work about personal matters.”

“I thought that was your literal job,” he challenges, and gosh darn it, I know he’s right. I’m being completely irrational right now, but he’s standing in front of me looking so good and smelling like he did that night…

“You’re the one who told me to have all my sexual partners sign contracts,” he goes on.

“I did. But—”

“Every partner, you said. A legal condom, you said.”

I sigh. “I did.”

His expression flashes with triumph. “Well, you’re my sexual partner now, so I’m really gonna need you to sign that contract.”

“Was.”

“What?”

“I was your sexual partner,” I correct. “Past tense. It happened once.”

“Pretty sure you came like five times, but who’s counting?”

“I’m counting it as once. One sad, desperate mistake, never to be repeated,” I add, echoing his words from our infamous morning after.

He glares at me, and I glare right back. He really wants to push me on this now? Between my grueling work schedule, my exhausting family, and the emotional whiplash of Anderson reentering my life, I’m at my wits-freaking-end. “Fine,” I say, pulling out my phone.

He leans away, eyes wide. “Wait, what are you doing?”

I open his email and tap on the contract file. “I’m signing this contract.”

“Poppy, we’re in a mop closet—”

“Well, where do you want me to sign it? You wanna go out to center ice? Hey, why don’t we head on over to the beach? That way, after I sign this, I can just walk straight into the surf and let a shark eat me!”

“Poppy—”

“Are you happy now, Mr. Everything’s A Big Joke?” I scribble my signature on the form with my finger and tap “save,” showing him the proof. “It’s done. I’ll send you a copy and keep a copy for my records.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Come on, Pop—”

“And now there’s nothing left for us to do but part ways, never to speak of our mutual mistake again,” I say over him. I feel like if I stop talking, I’ll either cry or scream. “You’re free, Lukas. You have my silence, signed in ink. Trust me, you didn’t need a signed NDA to guarantee that I’ll never speak of what happened to anyone—”

He leans in closer, reaching out his hand as if he means to touch my shoulder. “Poppy…”

I bat him away. “And if it’s okay with you, I’ll ask that you send all future contracts to Jeff. I gave you his email in our last correspondence. I think it’s best for the health of our working relationship that we not have direct communication regarding—”

“Poppy,” he shouts, his voice so deep and loud it echoes in this small space.

I jolt. “What?”

His hands brace my shoulders now, holding me still. He looks down at me, searching my face. What is he looking for? What is he thinking? It’s impossible to know. Oh god, what is he about to say? I can’t bear him being mean right now. I’ll shatter like glass. And I cannot cry in front of this jerk. I really will have to walk into the ocean.

He lowers his face an inch, his gaze softening. His thumbs brush my shoulders. Oh god, my body is coming alive at the memory of his confident touch, his scent, his…everything.

I relax in his hold, lost in the caramel of his eyes. “What do you want from me? Please, just tell me.”

His face lowers another inch as his lips part. My heart is racing. Oh god, I think he’s going to kiss me. “Poppy…” He says my name on a sigh. “I want—”

A sharp knock at the door has us jolting apart like a pair of naughty teenagers, turning to face the open doorway. The most unexpected person is standing there.

“Colton,” I gasp, pulse pounding as his cold gaze darts between us.

Lukas dares to look a little guilty. “Hey, bud. We were just—”

“I don’t need to know,” Colton says, silencing him with a glare. He turns that hard stare on me, and I feel myself withering. “That hospital chick said you two went this way.”

Something about his tone has me stepping forward, reaching for him. “What is it?”

“I came to warn you,” he says.

I drop my hand to my sides, anxiety humming. “Warn me?”

He nods, his expression solemn. “Yeah. There’s a cute blonde over at the coffee cart chatting up some of the rookies.”

My heart freaking stops. With the way he’s looking at me right now, I know he knows exactly who she is. Apparently, he cared enough to look me up. He looked up Anderson too. Colton knows. “Just say it,” I whisper.

He holds my gaze. “It’s your sister.”