Page 8 of Offside and Off-Limits (Love in Maple Falls #2)

No matter how much I may want to pursue other initiatives, Management has made it clear they want dance videos so Asher’s skills will come in handy. And, if I’m being totally honest, I’ve enjoyed it.

“How about we do another one now?” Cade suggests. “Got any other ideas, Tremblay?”

“So many ideas,” he replies with a grin. “We did this one when I was with the Renegades where we lined up behind the lead and stuck our sticks out so it looked like he had multiple sticks before we broke out and skated around. It looked awesome on video.”

“I’ll give that a shot,” Cade says.

“Yeah, me too,” Weston agrees.

I smile at the guys. They’re all so willing to help. I don’t know what I expected from them, but I thought I might need to at least use some persuasion. “Thank you. This helps a lot.”

“Wait,” Cade says as the other two turn to skate off. “Don’t you think our social media expert should join us?”

Immediately, I hold my hands up in the air. “No way. I’m just the videographer today, and besides, you guys are doing great. You don’t need me.”

But my protest falls on deaf ears as Cade grins, saying, “Come on, Clara. Where’s your team spirit?” His eyes are dancing, trained on me, and once again those dang flutters claim my chest.

“I’m not dressed for it,” I say, gesturing at my pencil skirt and heels. I might have thrown a warm jacket on over my office-appropriate attire when we came out to the rink, but there’s no way it’s skating-appropriate.

“You want some pads and a helmet?” Cade asks with a cheeky look on his face. “Come on. I’ll be right there to catch you if you fall. ”

I swallow as an image of me being held in Cade’s big arms flashes before my eyes.

“I’m in high heels, which aren’t exactly ice-friendly,” I reply, as though that can’t be fixed by a pair of arena-owned skates I myself used to rent out to the public in one of my many, many jobs.

“I’m sure that’s not a problem, right, Asher?” Cade asks as the other two glide across the ice to rejoin us.

“Not a problem whatsoever,” Asher agrees.

“Who will film it? There’s no one here but us,” I protest.

Yup, I’m grasping at straws here. The last thing I want is to be recorded as part of some TikTok dance routine on the ice. It’s not exactly in my job description. And the thought of being that close to Cade? Nope. Not happening.

“It’s a nice idea, Cade, but it looks like we’ll have to do it some other time. If at all,” I say.

“Hey!” Cade calls out and a young guy in a dark blue boiler suit I hadn’t noticed before looks over at us.

“Me?” he calls back.

“Can you do us a solid?”

“Anything for the legendary Cade Lennox,” the guy replies, jogging over to us. It’s then that I recognize him as Joel Fincher, a kid I used to babysit back when I was fourteen. Not that he’s a kid anymore.

“See? Problem solved,” Cade says to me with a satisfied grin.

I push out a breath. This guy sure is persistent when he wants something.

Joel arrives at the players’ bench and it’s clear he’s completely starstruck by the guys, punching their gloved hands and grinning like he won the lottery.

“Hey, Clara,” he says to me, barely tearing his gaze from the players.

“Hi, Joel.”

“This is for the Ice Breaker’s TikTok, right?” Joel asks .

“Sure,” I reply, because isn’t that obvious? Why else would I have three hockey players dancing on the ice for me?

Don’t answer that.

“Got it,” Joel replies, grinning so hard he’s at risk of splitting his face in two.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Asher declares, and Cade pulls the door open, offering me his gloved hand.

I open my mouth to protest, but I’m all out of excuses.

I may as well get this over with.

With the reluctance of a kid going to the dentist, I take Cade’s proffered gloved hand and step gingerly onto the ice, instantly regretting my heels and skirt combo.

But then to be fair to me, I didn’t think my first day on the job as Social Media Manager for the Ice Breakers would involve me taking part in a TikTok dance with three of the players.

Go figure.

Asher demonstrates the dance I just filmed, and as I clutch onto Cade’s hand for support, I try my best not to slip off and fall flat on my face as I move my feet in sync with the guys.

Despite the fact I’m doing my best to concentrate on the steps, it’s hard not to be hyperaware of Cade at my side.

“Oh, man, this is awesome!” Joel declares, holding my phone in his hands. “You guys look sick! Even you, Clara.”

I let out a surprised laugh at Joel’s comment when Asher calls, “And now turn!” and as I do my legs fly from underneath me, and my breath wooshes out as I scrunch my eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold, hard ice against my poor, under-protected butt.

But the ice-cold contact fails to happen, and when my eyes spring open I see Cade, his eyes wide with alarm as large, strong arms pull me against his firm body.

He grins down at me as my heart beats out of my chest.

I tell myself it’s because I almost fell, but being in Cade’s arms feels…well, it feels pretty dang amazing.

Not that I’m going to tell him that .

“Thanks,” I mumble, the heat rising in my cheeks as I gaze up at him, at total odds with the cold of the arena.

“My pleasure,” he replies, and the way he says those two words sends a flash of something hot through me that I’ve got to work hard at resisting.

But resist it I must, no matter how good this feels.

I haven’t been held by a man since Dwayne left me for my friend. And that was years ago.

I heave out a breath as I drag my gaze from his. I need to remember that this guy is a total player, and I don’t mean just on the ice. He probably catches falling women in his big, strong arms every day of the week—and I bet most of them don’t even bother to resist the heat this feeling elicits.

But I’m not one of those women, and I refuse to act on my physical attraction for this man. There are so many reasons, the non-fraternization clause in my employment contract being right at the top of that list.

Throwing away my new job because I’m attracted to one of the players? Not going to happen.

“You guys, I’m getting so many likes on this!” Joel calls out.

Wait. Likes ?

I snap my attention to Joel, who’s still holding up my phone, pointing it straight at Cade and me. “Cade, would you mind putting me down? Like now .”

“I’ll do you one better,” he replies as he glides me smoothly back toward the bench, still holding me close in his arms. Holding me in one arm, he pulls open the door, and returns me to my feet—which I note are now trembling.

Argh!

But I’ve got a much bigger problem to deal with right now than trembling legs brought about by my inappropriate attraction to an oversized hockey player called Cade.

“What do you mean, likes, Joel?” I ask as I hold my hand out for my phone .

“On the livestream,” he replies, and I almost blackout in shock.

“You livestreamed this?” I croak, my heart drumming in my ears. I snatch the phone away and hastily switch the recording off.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” Joel replies, his eyes darting between me and Cade.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that,” Cade mumbles as he watches me.

I swallow, tension claiming my chest. What will Management think of me, dancing with the players on my first day and—worse, so much worse—landing in the arms of their star right winger, me gazing up at him as though to declare to the world that I’ve got a fat crush on Cade Lennox?

I just turned “strictly professional” into “romantically questionable” with one paltry slip on the ice—metaphorically as well as literally.

I close my eyes and suck in air, my chest buzzing. I will officially be the person to hold the unenviable position of the shortest-serving social media manager for an NHL team in the history of time. My dream job snatched away from me with a simple slip on the ice.