Page 18 of The Sin Bin

"Yes," Lauren replied, surprised to be recognized.

"Perfect. We could include you in a few shots too, if you're willing. 'Local vet supervises Chill enforcer's volunteer work' has a nice ring to it."

Before Lauren could respond, Oliver stepped up, flashing a smile. "Stephanie, we didn't know you were coming today. I could have worn something better than gym clothes."

Lauren didn't miss the way the PR director's expression softened almost imperceptibly at Oliver's approach, or how her eyes briefly traveled over him before returning to her professional demeanor.

"Chenofski, you could wear a potato sack and still look like you stepped out of GQ," she replied dryly. "But this isn't about you today."

"Wound me, why don't you?" Oliver placed a hand over his heart in mock offense, but his eyes danced with humor.

Stephanie turned back to Jax. "We'll start with the dog kennels, then maybe get some shots of you with puppies? The internet loves big scary men with tiny animals."

As they followed Stephanie toward the dog area, a large rescue mutt came bounding down the hallway, having escaped its handler. The dog was heading straight for their group, its enthusiasm unchecked. Without hesitation, Jax stepped smoothly in front of Lauren, his body a solid barrier between her and the oncoming canine.

"Whoa, buddy," he said, his voice firm but gentle as he caught the dog's collar. "Easy there."

The handler, a teenage volunteer, came running up, face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! He just pulled the leash right out of my hand."

"No harm done," Jax said, calming the dog with a few expert strokes along its back. "He's just excited to meet new people."

Lauren watched the exchange, struck by how naturally protective Jax was, not just with her but with everyone around him. It wasn't performative or controlling—just an instinctive shielding of those who might be vulnerable.

Once the dog was safely returned to its handler, Jax turned back to find Lauren watching him. A strand of her hair had fallen across her face during the commotion, and without thinking, he reached out, gently tucking it behind her ear. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent a jolt through her, his fingertips briefly grazing her cheek.

"Sorry," he said immediately, dropping his hand. "Habit from dealing with my niece."

"It's okay," Lauren replied, her voice coming out slightly breathless.

They stared at each other for a moment, something unspoken passing between them, until Stephanie cleared her throat.

"If you two are finished having a moment, we have a photoshoot to do," she said, though Lauren thought she detected a hint of amusement beneath the PR director's brisk tone.

The next hour passed in a blur of posed and "candid" photos of Jax working with various rescue animals. To Lauren's surprise, Stephanie included her in several shots, directing them to recreate the rehabilitation exercises they'd been doing with Taffy.

"You're good at this," Lauren acknowledged as they worked. "Better than most vet techs I've worked with, actually."

"High praise from Dr. Mackenzie," he teased, carefully setting Penalty back on his heated pad. "I'll add it to my resume, right after 'professional face-puncher.'"

The self-deprecating joke surprised a laugh out of her. "Is that how you see yourself? A professional face-puncher?"

A shadow crossed his features. "It's what I'm paid to do," he said. "Or at least, it was. The game's changing."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Lauren asked.

Jax was silent for a moment, absently stroking Taffy's fur as the cat settled against his hand. "Both," he finally said. "The science on concussions is pretty clear. The old-school fighting, the goons who looked to really injure the other player—that's dying out, and it should. But..."

He trailed off, and Lauren found herself prompting him. "But?"

"But there's still a place for physical play, for consequences," he continued, his voice thoughtful. "Hockey at its best is controlled chaos. Without some kind of enforcement—players policing themselves—the truly dangerous plays increase. The cross-checks, the hits from behind, the cheap shots that end careers."

Lauren considered this, surprised by the complexity of his perspective. "So it's not about violence for its own sake."

"Not for me, at least," Jax said with a shrug. "I know guys who love the fighting, who get off on hurting people. I've never been that guy. For me, it's always been about protection."

"The team enforcer," Lauren mused. "Like you did with Ethan, when Wilson hit him."

Jax's eyebrows rose slightly. "You've been doing your homework."

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