Page 12 of Slap Shot (Charm City Chill #3)

H eather

Heather had been ignoring her phone for two hours, but Ivy Hodges wasn't giving up. The damn thing kept buzzing against her coffee table like an angry bee, and each missed call made her stomach clench tighter.

She knew exactly what HR wanted to discuss. The question was whether she was ready for that particular shit storm.

On the sixth call, she finally caved.

"Hi, Ivy."

"Well, there you are." Ivy's voice had that fake-sweet tone that meant someone was about to get reamed. "I was starting to think you'd fallen off the face of the earth."

"Just busy with the security investigation." Heather tucked her legs under her on the couch, bracing for impact. "What's up?"

"You know exactly what's up. We talked about this. I thought I made myself clear about management wanting corporate employees to stop bothering the players."

There it was. Heather's pulse kicked into overdrive. "Jack specifically told me to use Oliver for this investigation."

"For that one night when the medical files leaked and everyone was in crisis mode. Not as your permanent IT consultant." Ivy's voice turned sharp. "And certainly not for cozy dinner dates at Antonio's."

Fuck. Someone had seen them. Heather's mouth went dry. "That was a work meeting."

"Was it? Because from what I heard, it looked pretty romantic for a work meeting. And then there's the late-night ice skating session, the extended time in the equipment room..." Ivy let that hang in the air. "People talk."

Ugh. “We’re close to finding this hacker.”

"If you don’t feel you’re up to this by yourself, we should reconsider your position in this company.”

Heather felt trapped, cornered by gossip and assumptions. "I can handle this.”

"Here's what's going to happen. No more working with Oliver. Period. No meetings, no consultations, no contact outside of basic professional courtesy."

"But Jack said—"

"I've already spoken to Jack. He agrees that this has gone too far. You want to keep your job? You stay away from the players. The Charm City Chill players are not your personal dating pool."

Heather's throat went tight. "How dare you."

"I'm dead serious. This is strike two, Heather. There won't be a third." Ivy paused, letting the threat sink in. "Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly."

"Good. Have a nice evening."

The line went dead, leaving Heather staring at her phone like it might explode. Six months of rebuilding her career, of proving she belonged in this world, and it could all evaporate because she'd let her feelings cloud her judgment.

Twenty minutes later, her doorbell rang. Through the peephole, she could see Oliver waiting on her front step, Charlie sitting patiently beside him. He looked relaxed, almost happy, completely unaware that their budding relationship had just been torched by HR.

She opened the door, trying not to let her dismay bleed through to her expression.

"Hey, beautiful." Oliver's smile was warm and genuine, the kind that made her forget why she was supposed to be keeping her distance.

He'd changed out of his practice gear into dark jeans and a navy sweater that hugged his shoulders in all the right ways.

Charlie trotted past them both into her living room like he owned the place.

"Hey yourself." She closed the door behind them, watching Charlie settle onto his usual spot on her rug. "But we have a problem."

Oliver's expression shifted immediately, all traces of casual happiness disappearing. "What kind of problem?"

"The Ivy Hodges kind." Heather closed the door and leaned against it, suddenly needing the support. "HR just called. They're shutting us down."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean no more working together." The words tasted bitter. "Someone saw us at Antonio's. And apparently our little ice skating session didn't go unnoticed either."

Oliver's face darkened. "Shit. I'm sorry, Heather. I should have thought about that."

"We both should have." She moved to her couch, her legs suddenly unsteady. "Ivy made it clear this is strike two. One more step out of line and I'm gone."

Oliver sat down beside her. She wanted to lean into him despite everything. Charlie came over and settled at their feet, his solid presence somehow making the situation feel less hopeless.

"So what happens now?" She dreaded asking the question.

He frowned and stared at his feet. "I guess now we follow the rules. No more meetings, no more working together, no more..." He gestured vaguely between them.

"No more us?" she said. She had been afraid of this response.

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. "We've known each other for three days. Maybe we got caught up in the intensity of the situation, but—"

"But nothing." Heather grabbed his hand. "Don't minimize what's happening here. Three days or three months, I know what I feel."

"My career isn't going anywhere. I play hockey, and as long as I keep scoring goals, they'll put up with a lot." He leaned closer. "But you—"

"But me what?"

"You're rebuilding after your divorce, after what your ex did to you. You can't afford to take risks like this." His voice was rough with frustration. "I won't be the reason you lose everything again."

The consideration in his voice, the way he was putting her needs first even when it obviously killed him, made her chest ache. "So we just walk away? Pretend none of this happened?"

"If that's what keeps you safe, then yes."

Heather stared at him, this man who was willing to sacrifice what he wanted to protect her career. It should have been reassuring. Instead, it pissed her off.

"What if I don't want to be safe?"

Oliver went very still. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm tired of other people making decisions about what's good for me. Tired of letting fear run my life." Something reckless stirred in her chest. "What if I think this relationship and our investigation is too important to abandon just because HR is uncomfortable with office gossip?"

"Heather..."

"And what if I think what's happening between us, whatever it is, deserves a chance to grow without corporate interference?"

Oliver searched her face. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe there's a way to keep working together without HR knowing about it." The idea was forming as she spoke, dangerous and tempting. "Official business stays at the office, all proper and documented. But the real investigation? That happens here, on our own time."

"That's risky as hell."

"Everything worthwhile is risky." She reached for his hand. "The question is whether you think it's worth it."

Oliver was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing across her knuckles. "I think we work well together. Not just personally, but professionally. The way our minds click when we're solving problems—"

"I've never experienced anything like it either."

"And personally?" His voice dropped. "These last few days might not be a long time, but when someone changes the way you see everything, time becomes irrelevant."

Heather's heart was racing now. "How have I changed anything?"

"You make me want to be better at everything, hockey, life, being the kind of man who deserves someone like you." He cupped her face with his free hand. "When I'm with you, the anxiety that usually lives under my skin goes quiet. Not because of Charlie, but because of you."

The honesty in his voice nearly undid her. "Oliver..."

"I know it's crazy. I know we barely know each other. But I also know that if we walk away from this now, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what we could have been."

"Okay, let's do this. Let's be incredibly stupid and risk everything for the chance that this might be something worth having."

Oliver's smile was brilliant. "You won't regret it."

"I might. We both might." She leaned closer, close enough to feel his breath against her lips. "But I'm tired of making decisions based on what might go wrong instead of what might go right."

When he kissed her, soft and sure and full of promise, Heather realized she was already in too deep to back out now.

HR could make all the rules they wanted, but they couldn't control what happened behind closed doors between two people who'd decided some things were worth fighting for.

The investigation would continue, just underground now.

And whatever was building between them would have the chance to grow without bureaucratic interference.

It was dangerous and reckless and probably stupid.

It was also the best decision she'd made in years.