Page 40 of How to Puck Your Boss (L.A. Hawks Hockey #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

T he Hawks won despite the team’s general unrest surrounding the boss’s visit.

Jack was certain that none of his teammates were as nervous about it as he was.

Shit, he had gone too far. He knew that he shouldn’t have spoken so disrespectfully to the man who literally owned him, but he hadn’t been able to restrain himself.

His mind had blown a fuse because, God, Penny’s parents had to be blind not to notice how important the whole thing was to her, how hard she worked, how much she hoped to finally prove to them that she was not a failure, but actually, more than brilliant.

On the flight back the next morning, everyone talked in hushed tones about how they had answered Mr. Clark’s questions while Jack pretended to be asleep.

It was a miracle no one on the team had noticed his outburst. Dax had kept quiet, of course, and Gareth had obviously done the same.

Still, he felt sick to his stomach when they finally landed.

In theory, he actually wanted Penny’s parents to like him.

He had no intention of letting her go anytime soon – not then or in the next few years.

The present had priority, so he stood behind her at the baggage carousel, leaned over her shoulder, and murmured, “Your place or mine?”

Penny’s cheeks turned pink, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she just whispered, “My place. But give me a few hours, I want to get some groceries. Then we can cook something tonight.”

“You mean you can cook something. Do I have to remind you that I’m a terrible cook?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be that bad. It’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think so.”

“Penny, I wanted to make myself some cocoa the other week and I ended up having to throw the pot away.”

She laughed. “Well, making cocoa is for the advanced. You have to start by making tea.”

“I don’t like tea.”

“Coffee?”

“I have a machine — I don’t have to do much. Even I can press a button without a problem.”

“Popcorn in the microwave?”

He grinned and removed his suitcase from the conveyor belt. “Burned.”

She looked at him, shaking her head before picking up her own bag. “Okay. You’re hopeless.”

“I told you,” he said contentedly. It was better that she found out sooner rather than later. He had other talents that he loved to demonstrate to her – over and over again.

They walked toward the exits together with the other players and members of the organization, and no one cared that Jack and Penny were talking. Why should they? Their behavior was perfectly platonic – Jack’s thoughts not so much. Thank God no one could steal them from his head.

“Oh, wait, I wanted to show you,” Penny said, pulling something out of the front pocket of her travel bag and holding it up triumphantly. “I bought it in Glendale yesterday afternoon.”

Jack tilted his head and examined the object she was holding under his nose. It was wooden and round with colorful threads and feathers hanging from the tips. The main body consisted of a yarn-like spider web decorated with beads.

“What is it?” he asked, frowning. It looked like a kindergartener had created it. Or Dax.

“A dream catcher!” Penny stated, as if everyone should know what it was. “It catches bad dreams and helps you sleep better. The children in Argentina made lots of these things. I thought this one was pretty.”

Jack snorted even though he felt a smile threatening. “How can you believe in the god of statistics and dream catchers, at the same time?”

“I don’t believe in dream catchers. I think they’re pretty,” she told him.

“And since we talked yesterday about how bare and ugly our apartments were, I thought…well, I thought it could beautify the living room. Make it a little more comfortable. A little more like a home. Since I’m…

” She cleared her throat, and her cheeks turned pink before she lowered her voice. “Probably staying in LA longer.”

A smile spread across Jack’s face. “Is that so? You want to stay longer?” he asked slowly, forcing his arms to continue hanging loosely by his body instead of wrapping them around her shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, there are a few things I wouldn’t want to leave behind,” she then murmured.

“Like what?” he asked innocently as they walked through the first revolving door into the hall of the small, private airport the Hawks used.

“The team.”

“Ah, yes. That’s important.”

“My family.”

“At least as important.”

“The pretty dream catcher that I’m going to hang in the window.”

“You seem to have grown very fond of it in such a short time.”

“Yes, and not just it,” she whispered, smiling.

God, he would love to kiss her now. He wouldn’t care if the entire team and management were present if he pulled her up on her tiptoes and showed her how ridiculously happy she made him with her words.

But he couldn’t, so he just tightened his grip around the handle of his suitcase and smiled down at her.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered. “I’ve grown fond of the dream catcher, too. ”

She chuckled softly and the warmth in her eyes sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. “The dream catcher is happy.”

They continued walking through the second set of doors to the underground parking garage…when flashbulbs pelted down on them like a torrential rain.

Reporters crowded toward the team, shouting wildly as the lights of the raised cameras blinded them. Their screams grew into a roar, but Jack couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

“Wow, what’s going on?” Penny asked, astonished. “You wouldn’t normally have so many reporters congratulating you on your victory.”

“What the hell is wrong with them?” Fox shouted from Jack’s other side, pushing his shoulder forward.

“I have no idea,” Jack said, looking around. What were the reporters holding in their hands? Obviously, cameras, but also…was that a photo? A newspaper article? Definitely something printed on paper.

“Dude, I think they’re here because of you,” Leon said, his mouth gaping as he pointed at Jack and Penny.

“What?” Penny asked, perplexed…but then Jack heard it too. One shout was clearly distinguishable from the others.

“Hey, Ms. Clark. Do you make it a rule to sleep with your players or is the Saint someone special?”

Penny paled and Jack abruptly stopped.

“Ms. Clark, is that why you came back from South America, to sleep your way through the team?”

“Hey, Saint, do you have to take off your halo before you go to bed with her, or does she like it when you leave it on?”

“What are they talking about?” Leon asked, confused.

“Is that a picture of you?” Fox asked, his mouth gaping.

Jack had no idea. All he knew was that the reporters were dragging Penny further into the dirt with every sentence — and they had better shut up if they didn’t want to end up on the ground. Red-hot anger blasted through his veins in lava flows and his jaw was so tense that it threatened to crack.

“Pull yourself together,” Penny hissed, looking at him warningly. “They’re just fishing.”

He wasn’t sure they were just fishing. Fox was right: The piece of paper in their hands was an article with the headline Saint Not So Saintly… He didn’t recognize the picture underneath, but apparently, it had been taken in front of the hotel where he and Penny had spent last night together.

“Why are they so upset?” Leon asked loudly and snorted. “You’re hugging in the picture! Totally harmless. Jack hugs everyone. He’s a total hug whore. As if you really had something going on.” He snorted. “We would have noticed.”

Penny pressed her lips together and said nothing. Jack, however, had to agree with Leon. The picture was harmless. It was not that bad.

“For God’s sake, we were hugging!” he shouted at the crowd of reporters. “Last week, you had a picture of me hugging Leon, so am I having an affair with him too?”

“Dude!” Leon replied, horrified. “That’s how rumors start!”

“Oh, the article also says that you kissed. The photographer just missed it.”

Penny still couldn’t speak, and her face was white as an egg.

Jack would have liked to wrap his arm around her shoulders, kiss her cheek, and reassure her that everything would be fine, but that might have been a bit counterproductive at the moment.

Instead, he stated, “Yes, and the internet says that aliens landed in Texas last week. Do you believe everything you read?”

Naturally, the journalists weren’t really interested in what he had to say.

A false headline was still better than no headline at all.

They continued shouting at them, and with every disrespectful word directed at Penny, Jack clenched his jaw tighter.

Yes, his self-control was good, but he also had his limits.

“God, we have to get out of here,” he whispered. “Otherwise, something very bad is going to happen.”

He didn’t know if Penny had heard him. She remained so rigid next to him that he was seriously worried. Fox, however, seemed to have heard his words, because he pushed in front of her and said, “That’s enough. Guys, help me! Block the bastards so Ms. Clark can get to her car in peace.”

The others reacted immediately, crowding around Penny using brute force to push the crowd of reporters back, forming a corridor toward the parking lot.

“Get out of here,” Fox muttered. “Quickly and not together. I don’t care if they’re right but don’t give them any more fuel.

Where the hell is Lucy when you need her?

God, she’s probably still making out with Dax at the baggage carousels.

Seriously, if I ever go crazy like that over a woman, have me committed! Lucy!” he yelled.

While Jack stopped to look around for their PR angel, Penny was moving down the path the players had created for them. She disappeared into the underground parking garage. It was private property, so no one could follow her there.

Jack’s stomach clenched before he slowly started in the same direction, but not in a way that made it look like he was running after her.

No, he relaxed his shoulders, put a small smile on his face, and gave the impression he was completely relaxed — even though his insides were a mess.

Penny had not looked good. Quite the opposite.

She had looked like a damn deer caught in the headlights.

She’d been unable to say anything, and he knew why.

He knew she felt like she was only making things worse, not better, when it came to her family’s reputation.

She hated being judged. Hated the media attention.

Hated everything about other people talking about her.

And he hated that he hadn’t been able to protect her from it.

“Fuck,” he whispered, striding toward his car.

She had said she needed a few hours to go grocery shopping. Well, he would give her that, but no more. He had the feeling she was all wrapped up in her own head…and he’d be damned if he’d leave her alone with her misery.