Page 1 of Her Power Play

ONE

RUBY

I have three goals for today…

One: Deliver twelve dozen cupcakes to the charity fundraiser at the arena.

Two: Avoid making a complete fool of myself in front of hot hockey players who will likely already be there.

Three: Get home without any injuries.

Letting out a heavy exhale, I take a step forward and another, trying to keep those goals locked in.

For some reason, I thought I would test fate and stack three cupcake boxes on top of one another before carrying them through the arena for setup, an iced coffee in my hand. Because let’s face it—iced coffee is the only way I’m going to get through this without curling into the fetal position and crying.

I’m not feeling optimistic that this was a good idea or that I’m going to get away from the delivery unscathed.

I’m thinking I should have left the iced coffee in the cup holder of my van for later consumption, and in the same thought, I’m wondering if I should have tried to hire someone else to handle the delivery and setup, taking me out of the equation altogether.

“Cupcake girl,” someone shouts from in front of me.

Stopping, I look around the stacked boxes to see a man standing at the door. He’s wearing a black polo T-shirt and a ball cap, his eyes focused on mine, until they slide down my body, then back up to meet my own.

He grins at me before opening said door. “Straight ahead and turn left. You’ll feel it when you get there.”

“Feel it?” I ask.

He hums. “You’re setting up on the ice,” he states.

I stumble at his words, but thankfully catch myself before all of the cupcakes go crashing to the ground. Inhaling deeply, I hold the breath for a moment and let it out slowly before I continue forward.

One foot in front of the other.

I walk straight ahead until I feel it.

The whoosh of cold air, but it’s not just the feel of the cold. It’s also the sounds around me. The scrape of skates on ice, the way the wooden sticks slap against one another. The grunting of the men.

Continuing forward, I stop when I realize what I’m going to have to do. Looking around the cupcake boxes, I see the red carpet with a whole display set up, including what appears to be an empty one for me.

It’s not just on the edge, or just a few steps over on the ice. No, it’s directly in the middle of the rink. Turning my head, I begin looking around for someone to help me, but before I can say a word, I hear a deep voice call out.

“Heads up!”

I freeze.

TWO

LIAM

Bouch passes me the puck, but he’s outside my range. I reach out to catch it but disastrously fail. Turning my head, I watch as it flies right past me. I call out for a heads-up because I don’t know where this wild puck is headed.

As my gaze follows the puck, I wince before I get my butt in gear and skate as quickly as I can toward the edge of the rink where the puck is flying. I don’t make it. I’m not fast enough to beat it or to stop it from slamming right into a woman’s leg.

She is standing with a coffee in her hand, while carrying three bakery-style boxes. I watch in horror as her knees begin to buckle and she begins to crumple down. I can’t see any part of her other than her legs and her hands holding the boxes and coffee.

Instinctually, I reach out and wrap my fingers around her waist. I’m able to keep her body from hitting the ground—or worse, dropping whatever is in those bakery boxes. I have no doubt it’s something delicious. Being this close to her, I can smell the sugar.

The boxes don’t fall, but the coffee isn’t as lucky. It splashes against my jersey, drips down my pants, and the empty cup lands by my feet. Thankfully, it’s not hot coffee, although my jersey is going to be stained as shit.