Page 16 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance (Midlife Meet Cute #6)

Rebecca

Icheck my email again, just in case Jack decided to actually respond. Doesn’t matter, though. I’ve discussed the issue with my lawyer briefly on the phone to confirm I’m handling the situation appropriately. In other words, making sure I cover my tush.

Harper appears in my doorway. “He’s here.”

“Where?”

She tilts her head toward the rink. “With the team.”

I squeeze her hand as I walk by. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

She nods, understanding I’m looking out for her. I can easily picture her uncle going into a tirade and taking it out on Harper. Or worse, making her leave with him.

When I reach the ice, Jack’s talking over Gabe to the players. He shoots me a look that’s filled with relief.

“Jack, we need to talk.”

He barely glances at me. “I’m in the middle of something, Rebecca.”

“Now, please.”

He tucks his chin as if he’s controlling his temper, then walks along the boards to where I’m standing in the tunnel. As he reaches me, I pivot, intending to take this back to my office.

“If you have something to say, do it now.” He sounds arrogant and demanding as if he thinks he’s immune to any consequences of his actions.

I spin around and put my hands on my hips. “All right. You’re fired.”

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us in a clear attempt to intimidate me. “You can’t fire me. I have a contract.”

“Which you’re in breach of.”

“Says who?”

“My lawyer. And don’t think I didn’t know about your little scheme, trying to convince the board of governors that the Sun Kings need to move to another state. All behind my back.”

Panic flashes across his face, but only for a moment before his smug expression returns. “I wanted to work the details out first before I brought it to you.”

“That’s breaking protocol.”

He tosses his hands out to his sides. “What? You did the same to me, hiring Gabe.”

“I sent you emails and even asked you to meet with me to go over the contract, but you never showed up.” Dropping my arms, I take a step toward him.

“I’ve been in this industry long enough to build connections, Jack.

Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you were up to?

Going behind my back to get the team moved without my approval and for your own agenda is a breach of contract.

That falls under the turf protection clause, in case you’re wondering. ”

He dismisses me with a jerk of his hand. “This is ridiculous. I quit.”

“You can’t. I’ve already notified the board that you’re terminated.” I point toward the back of the arena. “Get your things and leave.”

He starts to walk away but stops, his face red. “Everything was fine until Zach Keller showed up. But I suppose that won’t be an issue much longer since ESPN just offered him a sweet deal.”

His words are like a pin letting the air out of my balloon. He must be lying. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you? Guess you’re not the only one with connections in this industry.”

With that, he stalks off. I can’t imagine his reaction to the security guard I asked to keep a watch on Jack while he cleared out his office.

When I return to the rink, I don’t feel the cold because I’m numb. Could what he said about Zach be true? If he did get an offer from ESPN, wouldn’t he have told me? Or is he planning to tell me over dinner tomorrow?

Gabe shoots me a concerned look, and the rest of the players appear on edge.

Pushing the raging question mark about Zach to the back of my mind, I face the team. “Jack is no longer our general manager, but we’ll fill his position as quickly as possible.”

“What about the team moving to another state?” One of the players—Ethan, I believe—blurts out.

I shake my head. “Jack was trying to negotiate a deal behind my back, and thus why I just fired him. Sarabella is our home. We’re not going anywhere.”

Seeing the players cheer, patting, and hugging each other makes me smile. At least I’m free of Jack now. But I have to hire a new GM before the season starts.

And find out if it’s true…

Is Zach planning to leave again?

Zach will be here any minute to pick me up for our reservation. The thing is, I don’t think I can sit through dinner with him until I know if what Jack said is true.

When he called last night, I told him all about what happened. Zach not only commended me for dealing with the situation like a consummate professional but also remarked he wished he could have been there to see it for himself.

I asked him why, and he said he loves watching me in action, that my bossy side is a turn-on. Had it been a video call, my flushed face would have betrayed my reaction to his words. I almost confronted him about ESPN, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it over the phone.

Maybe I want this bubble we’re in to last a little longer.

Or perhaps I’m terrified of going through that heartache again.

But then I remind myself that I’m not that young and inexperienced girl anymore.

I’ve dealt with tough situations—losing my father too soon, for one—and I not only survived but grew stronger through it. Whatever happens, I can handle it.

At his knock, I answer the door. Before I can say a word, Zach crushes me against him with a mind-bending kiss that affects every part of me. We definitely have great chemistry, but is that all this is to him?

I push against his shoulder, then pull away enough so I can see his face. “We need to talk.”

The heat in his eyes recedes to be replaced by confusion. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

As I step out of his embrace, the sudden absence of his strength and warmth gives me pause.

“Becks, tell me.” He reaches for me, but I move away.

I can’t have this conversation while he’s touching me. That would just make things worse. “I left out a part of my confrontation with Jack yesterday.”

His gaze turns steely. “Did he hurt you?”

“No! Nothing like that. He said ESPN offered you a deal.” I implore him with my eyes to deny it, that he’s not planning to pack up and leave again.

He runs a hand through his hair, giving him a rakish quality that makes me want to run back into his arms. But when he meets my gaze, I know it’s true.

“Is that why you went to Connecticut this time?” My stomach clenches so tight I might puke all over his tailored suit. Would serve him right, too.

“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

Tears build behind my eyes, but I don’t want to cry. I shed way too many tears in the past over this man. How could I be so stupid to think he’d actually want me more than his career?

“Then what is it?”

He moves toward me. “Yes, ESPN did offer me a position.”

Instinct drives me to back away again, but he’s faster, catching my arms in his firm grip. Fighting my tears, I blink. “And that’s what you’ve wanted, right? Sarabella would have meant settling for you, wouldn’t it?”

His dark eyes wash over me. “Before I got here—yes. But then you and I reconnected.”

More like reunited, and I let him in all the way when my heart said to slow down, be cautious, make sure he won’t hurt you again.

I pull away from him. Might as well get the hard part over with. “When do you leave?”

He sighs. “Did you not hear the ‘but’ in that statement?”

“Yes, buuuuut…you haven’t exactly explained yourself.”

He pushes his jacket open as he splays his hands on his hips, giving me a glimpse of how his shirt tugs across his chest.

Not wanting a reminder of how well we fit together, I glance away.

“Rebecca, look at me.”

The memory of the day he first told me he was leaving—traded—still lingers. I can’t look at him now, not while he tells me he’s moving to another state. Again.

In one swift move, he closes the distance between us and holds my head between his hands. Not harsh, but gentle and firm. “Is this what you want?”

His question confuses me. “For you to leave?”

He nods.

I open my mouth, but the words are stuck.

His eyes devour me with a need that goes beyond attraction. “What do you want, Rebecca?”

Something fierce rises in me, pushing me to fight for us. “I want you to stay, Zach.” I stare back at him, almost daring him to make a liar out of me.

The tension in his body settles. He rests his forehead against mine. “Good. Because I already told them I wasn’t interested. This is my home now. Here with you.”

His declaration evokes a soft gasp from me.

And then his lips crash down on mine. He kisses me with all the passion he usually does but also with a deep emotion that has my senses reeling.

Zach drags his lips beneath my jawline to my ear. “I love you, Becks. I always have, and I always will.”

I’m hungry for his mouth to return to mine, but not until I say it back. “I love you, too, Zach. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

His kiss is tender and sweet this time as if he needs me to know how much he cherishes me. And that’s exactly how I feel—wanted, desired, cherished.

I lean away. “You could have led with that.”

His languid grin returns, letting me know he intends to keep kissing me. “What? The part about loving you?”

I laugh. “No, about turning down the offer. Would have saved us both some stress.”

“But then making up wouldn’t be as much fun.” Heat flares in his eyes again, and I have a feeling we won’t be going out for dinner tonight after all.