Page 21 of Icing on Top

Jeremiah smiled affectionately down at her as he draped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. “You’re right, Tot. It doesn’t.”

He pursed his lips as he stared off at the game in front of us, but I could tell he was rolling the idea around in his head.

“If I do start one, would you help me?”

I wanted to say yes, but the logical part of my brain kicked in. If I was going to be able to make payments on my medical bill and also afford the basic costs of living, I needed to spend what free time I did have finding ways to make money. Possibly another part-time job.

“I’d love to, but I… I don’t really have the time.”

“I’d pay you.”

My mouth dropped in shock. Had he read my mind?

“If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it properly. Which means I need the guidance of a female hockey player to make sure this league is one where women feel comfortable and seen.” He glanced down at Charlie, and she grinned up at him. Then he looked back at me. “Your input would be invaluable, Zoe. And it was your idea to begin with. You deserve the credit.”

I still didn’t know what to say. I’d taken the coaching position because Uncle Cal had asked me to, and I could never say no to him. The fact that it paid, even just a little, was also a factor. But if I was being honest with myself, it was because it gave me the opportunity to dip my toes back into the hockey world with the safety net of being a coach and not a player.

Helping Jeremiah plan and run a women’s hockey league would be another step. I’d be providing an opportunity for women like me who still wanted to strap on a pair of skates and sink a puck into the net every now and then. And I would get paid, too.

“I’ll do it.”

His face brightened, and he graced me with that beautiful smile of his that reached all the way up to his eyes. That’s when it hit me: I had just agreed to spend more time around a man that I was becoming increasingly attracted to and shouldn’t be.

Chapter 9

Zoe

Grease soaking through the paper bag was how you knew the onion rings were delicious. My mouth had been watering the whole drive to the rink. Jeremiah and I were meeting to start brainstorming for the women’s rec league. He’d asked if I’d stop and get lunch since he was in meetings all morning, and I wasn’t strong enough to say no to smashburgers and onion rings.

I carefully adjusted the drink carrier and takeout bag in my hands to open the door. The last thing I needed was a grease stain or spilled soda on my shirt. The amount of clothing I had that didn’t have some sort of stain from baking was dwindling quickly. Thankfully, the door was already unlocked, saving me the trouble of having to dig out my key. That would have definitely spelled disaster.

Voices echoed from the rink; a figure skating instructor yelling out to her student above a symphonic piece. Figuring Jeremiah was not overseeing them, I turned in the direction of his office. He spotted me through the open door and quickly rounded his desk.

“Here. Let me take something,” he offered, hands already outstretched.

I passed him the drink carrier, less confident in my abilities to keep the liquid inside the cups than our food in the bag. He cleared off a space on his desk and set down the drinks before he moved his laptop to the shelf behind him. Smart man.

I sat down in one of the two extra chairs and started to unpack our burgers when he slid a twenty-dollar bill across the desk to me.

“No.” I pushed it back. “You don’t need to pay for lunch.”

He placed his large hand on top of mine, successfully stopping me.

“I’m paying, Zoe. I was the one who asked, and you saved me from having to live off of the stale crackers in my desk drawer.”

The look he gave me made it clear that he wouldn’t be happy until the money was in my possession.

“Okay.”

He removed his hand, and I took the money, trying not to miss his warm touch. I wasn’t supposed to be doing that.

With the money securely in my pocket, Jeremiah finally relaxed back into his seat and claimed a burger and side of onion rings. He wasn’t kidding about how hungry he was. I’d barely gotten my burger unwrapped, and he’d already downed half of his. But once I took a bite, I understood why. I’d never had such a juicy smashburger before in my life, and whatever sauce they put on it, I was in love.

“You know I’m really impressed by how quickly you agreed to my idea. I was expecting that I’d have to sell you on it,” I admitted.

“Did you have a presentation prepared?”

“In my head, yes.”