Page 77 of Slap Shot

“Aye, aye, Captain,” the guy says with a mouth full of food.

“Ladies and kids will go first, then it’s a free for all after that. Last four people to grab a plate are on cleanup duty,” Maverick adds, and the dark-haired guy wearing glasses next to me groans.

“Not fair. I’m always slow,” he grumbles before glancing my way. “Hi. I’m Riley. I got here late and didn’t have a chance to meet you.”

“Madeline.” I smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re Hudson’s chef, right?”

“You’re the eighth person to come up to me and know who I am. I have no clue who any of you are. But, yeah. I am. That’s me.”

“Because they’re annoying as hell,” Hudson says. He flicks Riley’s ear then drapes his arm over his shoulder. “And hardly worth mentioning.”

“Wow. See if I back your ass up at the game on Saturday,” Riley says.

“You will when you find out we brought pumpkin and pecan pie, plus a pumpkin roll, apple spice cake with cream cheese icing, and sugar cookies courtesy of Madeline here. Snickerdoodles are my favorite, but I know I’m going to be a convert once I try these.”

“Whoa.” Riley gapes at me. “You made all of that from scratch?”

“I did,” I say. “Hudson’s kitchen suffered in the process, and I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get the pumpkin stains out of his quartz countertops.”

“Worth it,” Hudson says with a grin. “Everything is fucking delicious.”

“How have you not gained ten pounds?” Riley hits Hudson’s stomach, and he keels over with a moan. “You’re going to turn into a big boy soon, Hayes.”

“I’m already a big boy, Mitchy,” he tosses back, hooking his arm around Riley’s neck. “I could level you on the ice if I wanted.”

“Boys,” Lexi says, joining our conversation, and Riley stands up straight. He fixes his shirt and runs a hand through his hair.“Why the hell are you terrorizing Madeline? She’s a guest. She doesn’t want to watch you two act like idiots.”

“It’s kind of fun,” I admit.

“Come on. Let’s get our food before these heathens take it all,” Lexi teases as she leads me to the kitchen. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know it can be overwhelming at first, so feel free to tap out in the guest room down the hall if you need a few minutes to yourself.”

“Thank you.” I adjust the hem of my corduroy skirt and wave to Lucy and Piper who are loading a plate up with turkey and mashed potatoes. “Hudson said there would be a lot of people here, but I wasn’t expectingthis. It’s packed.”

“The guys try to do team dinners once a week, and when we get to the holidays, it’s a whole production. It’s nice of Maverick and Emmy to include everyone. I’ve been the person sitting in a hotel room alone on Thanksgiving wishing I could be surrounded by loved ones. This side of things is way more fun.”

“How long have you worked for the Stars?”

“I’ve only been with them a couple years. I was with an AHL team in Oklahoma before coming to DC. Getting promoted to head athletic trainer is a recent development, but I’ve put in a lot of time to get here.”

“I don’t doubt it. It’s amazing what the guys put their bodies through night after night. Keeping them healthy must be a hell of a feat.”

“Some more than others.” Lexi hands me a silverware roll-up and a plate. “Make sure to get a slice of the garlic bread. Riley made it, and it’s surprisingly good.”

“He seems like a nice guy.” I add salad and a pour of dressing to my plate then move on to the bread and rolls. “He doesn’t wear glasses when he plays, does he?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen him in glasses.” She glances over her shoulder, and I wonder who she’s looking for. “I had no idea he was a contact lens guy.”

I lose Lexi in the dessert line and wander over to find a spot in the dining room. Lucy is next to me at the long table that’s been set up, with Piper and Liam on her other side. She keeps giggling at the cat photos Liam shows her on his phone, and his smile gets bigger and bigger every time she asks him to swipe to a new picture.

“Mind if I sit here?” Hudson asks, pointing at the seat to my right.

“I wouldn’t mind at all. Get comfortable, Bombshell.”

He laughs and folds his large body into the seat. His knee presses against mine under the table, and he keeps it there while he gets settled. “How does everything taste so far?”

“Delicious. How much of this is homemade?” I ask around a bite of turkey.

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