Page 58 of Match Penalty

She sits, taking a sip of coffee, and I can't help but lean over her shoulder to look at her checklist. The scent of her shampoo hits me, and suddenly I'm back in my bed, her skin against mine, her breath on my neck...

"Monty," Aleksi calls out. "Here’s your box to sign," he says, slapping the top of one of the boxes.

Right. Professional. I straighten up, catching Cammy's warm honey eyes before heading back to the signing station.

Two hours later, we've got everything signed and organized. The guys file out, but not before Aleksi whispers, "You're welcome," as he passes me.

Then it's just Cammy and me in the conference room, the air thick with possibility.

"Thank you," she says, straightening a stack of signed photos. Her fingers trace the edge of one absently. "This would have taken me days on my own."

I step closer, unable to help myself. "Anytime."

She looks up, and suddenly the air feels charged. We're standing close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, count her eyelashes if I wanted to. Her lips part slightly, and I'm halfway to throwing caution to the wind when Cammy's cell phone rings.

I glance at my watch, hating that I have to leave. "Are you going to be okay up here?"

"Yes." She nods with a warm smile. "With no one else left in the offices, I won't have anyone sidetracking me, so I can stay on task."

"What more do you need to do?"

She looks around at the neat stacks of merch inside the office. "I need to catalog each auction item and give it a bid number. This was going to take me days to complete, but since the guys put everything in piles, I think I might get this done tonight. What you and the team did is amazing. Thank you." Her smile is genuine, bright enough to light up the room. Before I can respond, she steps forward and hugs me.

The contact is brief but electric. When she pulls back, our faces are close—too close. Her eyes drop to my lips for a fraction of a second, and I almost forget about my other commitment to the Physical Therapy waiting downstairs.

"I'd stay and help," I say reluctantly, "but PT only came in for a half day, and I need—"

She waves me off quickly. "Yes…of course. You've done more than enough," she assures me, still beaming as she looks around at everything laid out in Penelope's office suite. "I'm grateful, really."

Cammy bends down to look through a box, and I quickly pull out the carved bird she was admiring that Pete had made at his Pike's Place booth. I went back and bought it the next day for her. I set it down on her desk and then pick up my bag, sliding the strap over my shoulder.

I back toward the door, not wanting to leave but knowing I have to. "I have my own to-do list anyway. PT and then I promised Pete I'd run the Zamboni tonight."

"Go," she says with a soft laugh. "Take care of that knee."

As I head for the elevator, I can't help but steal another glance at her. She's already immersed in her work, grabbing a clipboard and taking a sip of her coffee, and I have to force myself to keep walking.

Some promises are worth keeping, even if they mean walking away from moments like this.

As I head down to the locker room, my phone buzzes.

Cammy:I can't believe you remembered the bird. I love it. Thank you.

I smile, typing back:

Me:De rien, mon petit oiseau. Anytime. Really.

Somehow I know, tonight isn’t over.

Chapter Seventeen

Cammy

Tonight, the office is silent.

No chatting office staff, no players, no media. It’s calming almost, no pressure for deadlines, no phones ringing, no fires to put out. Just me and my little carved finch that now lives next to my computer screen.

JP tried to be sneaky, dropping in on my desk before he left, but of course I knew immediately who left it. My heart squeezes at the sentiment.

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