Page 7 of Temptation On Ice

Fuck, this little hellion won’t let me get away with anything. I just can't let her know she has all the power here. “I’m perfectly capable of schmoozing the people paying us, Camille, you don't have to worry about that. I’ll be on my best behavior even if I think this is stupid as hell. Now stop yelling before you freak the puppy out even more.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s me that’s scaring that little fluff ball,” she mutters as she pinches my arm.

I swat at her hand before making a turn toward Olympus arena in search of the parking garage the GPS has directed me to. The arena wasn’t finished when I was working for the Atlanta PD, and it’s a big sport and entertainment complex that’s taken up a wide swath on the edge of downtown. The Olsen brothers really spared no expense to ensure professional hockey would have a worthwhile home in Atlanta. I let out a low whistle as we enter the shade of the parking structure, and the whimpering puppy finally quiets down.

“Think they built something big enough?” I mutter under my breath as we wind our way through the garage looking for a space that will fit my huge, dirty truck. I find a row of expensive-looking sports cars and luxury SUVs with some open spots. It won't fit in with this crowd at all, but the truck will fit in a space right near the end just fine, so I take it.

“They had faith in their vision and built what they wanted to see,” Cami says, hopping out of the truck. “You should be taking notes, not criticizing them.”

Damn, she’s so feisty and ready to knock me down a peg. “It’s not criticism, it’s just a comment.”

I open the crate and pull the lab puppy out, holding him in my arms. After a quick puppy potty break, we make our way inside the cavernous arena. Cami uses directions from the email the PR director sent to guide us until we make it to the room where this meet and greet will be happening. I can hear the noise before we enter, and the number of people inside surprises me. I thought this would just be the team. Instead, it looks like there are whole families here. Moms chat with each other, little kids play together, big dudes who have to be the athletes congregate in groups, and more staff than I expected, along with several people with cameras, mill around.

“Well, shit,” I mutter as I stop at the door.

“Smile,” Cami murmurs beside me as she discreetly elbows me in the side to keep moving.

We’re greeted with a chorus of gleeful cheers, and a rush of kids surrounds us before we even make it to the center of the room. The parents follow the kids quickly and let them know not to grab for the puppy and to wait their turn. A perky redhead moves through the throng like it’s her life’s calling to wade through people and reaches for Cami’s hand.

“Hi, I'm McKenna Kresley, head of PR for the Hydras. You must be Cami and Tucker!” she says, shaking Cami’s hand before turning to me.

I cradle the puppy under one arm like a football and reach for the hand she’s extended to me. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Her cheeks pinken as her eyelashes flutter quickly. Ah, yeah, the good ole boy charm gets them every time. I’ll have to make sure not to give her too much, or she’ll think I’m flirting, and then we’ll have a different type of problem on our hands. One that will end with me having to gently tell her I’m gay and have no interest in dating her, and might just end our profitable partnership with the team if she takes it badly enough.

“Oh, you can just call me McKenna. It’s so wonderful to have you here after all our conversations, Cami,” she says, once again turning to my sister, but her hand squeezes mine one last time before she moves to pet the puppy in my arms. “He’s such a cutie! Wow, what a sweet little face he has. I can’t wait to start the name campaign and figure out what he’s going to be called so I can get his jersey made.”

She’s bending over, face-to-face with the puppy in the crook of my arm, making baby noises as she pets him. I’m starting to think McKenna’s motives for partnering with Combat Companions were a bit self-serving, despite her good intentions.

“How about I put the dog down so you and the kids can play with him?” I say, taking a half-step back and extricating myself from her grasp. I quickly set the little guy down and slacken the leash so he has some room to move and squat down to eye-level with the kids gathered at my feet. “He’s just a baby and very small, so we have to be gentle when we touch him. Soft hands, please, and know he has sharp little teeth that might hurt if you get too close to his mouth,” I tell them as I show what I mean with a finger to the puppy’s lips. He barely opens his mouth and doesn’t bite me. I picked this particular puppy for his calm temperament and sweet disposition. He will be a perfect service companion, and is great for handling already, even at nine weeks old.

The first to hold out his hand is a little boy clutching a well-loved black stuffed dog that looks a lot like the one in front of him. He very gently pets the puppy and immediately falls to the ground on his stomach to be closer. The huge smile on his face is the sweetest thing, and I watch carefully to ensure both the puppy and the boy’s safety. More kids come by and sit around the puppy, taking turns petting and playing with him. I feel good about their understanding of what it means to be safe and treat the puppy kindly, so I stand back up and give them more room.

McKenna and Cami are talking off to the side, and a group of kids encircles the puppy, so I feel awkward as fuck just standing here in the middle of the room. I finally take a moment to look around me, and holy fuck is it eye-candy city in here. I know professional athletes are at their peak of fitness, it’s their literal job, but damn, this is like sending a dieter into a candy shop knowing they can only look and not indulge. The testosterone flowing in here is enough to get me high. I obviously don't leave the house enough if just being in the presence of twenty men in my preferred age range and physical type is enough to nearly have me looking for a private spot to really do something with what I’m seeing.

I have so much to tell Callum later, since he’s probably the only one who will understand the struggle. We have the same taste in men, unfortunately for us both. He’ll want to tag along to any event I go to in the future, though, which could also make my life harder, since he’s far more flamboyant and theatrical…and just downright messy sometimes.

Maybe I won’t tell him everything.

“I told you this would be a good thing,” Cami says as she sidles up next to me.

“Stop harassing me, woman. I’ve already agreed to do this. And it might not be so bad after all,” I admit begrudgingly.

“I knew you’d think they’re all hot. You have such a thing for athletes.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “You’re such a brat. I do not find them all hot.”

“Remember when you were so gone over Jay Bradford senior year? Too bad he had a girlfriend and didn’t give you the time of day.” She elbows me conspiratorially.

“For your information, Jay liked me just fine. The back of my truck saw lots of football players who had girlfriends and wanted to experiment with the gay country boy who had no problem keeping things quiet,” I say under my breath so only she can hear.

She gawks at me. “How did I not know this? My mind is blown. You fooled around with Jay? Who else?” she demands.

“You’re lucky I said one name at all when I promised to take them to the grave.”

That, and some hurt more than others when I wound up catching feelings for the backseat hook-ups with the straight boys who wanted to experiment, then couldn’t look me in the eye after. There’s nothing like blowing a guy with his hands in your hair, or having him balls deep in your ass, calling you baby and saying you’re the best he’s ever had, and then denying he even knows you the next day. Too many times to count, I’ve been someone’s dirty secret, and I gave that up long ago. Now, I don’t fuck with men just experimenting or baby bis who still aren't sure about their sexuality. Which means I’m not doing a lot of fucking at all.

I’ve almost come to terms with it.