Page 33 of Behind the Bench

I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. Hunter is going to lose his mind when he finds out the good news. I look over at Lincoln and catch him staring at me. When my eyes snag his, he diverts his penetrating gaze swiftly to something over my shoulder. Why was he watching me so intently? I can’t lie. The thoughts send a thrill of something peculiarthrough me. The man is as much a mystery to me as my ever-evolving feelings toward him are.

Jerry’s voice interrupts my questioning thoughts about Lincoln.

“I’ll let you two tell him the good news at your meeting today. Do you think you can handle that and let the rest of the staff know about Grayson’s departure? No need to give any details. If they have questions or concerns they can bring them to me or Becky. Sound good?”

I nod at the same time Lincoln responds, “Yes, sir.”

Jerry knocks his knuckles on the table and gives us both a curt nod. “I have a good feeling about this. You two, along with Hunter, may be just what this team needs to give us a winning record again. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to reach out.”

Lincoln and I, in unison like a damn acapella group or something, respond with a quick “Thank you, sir.”

Jerry exits the room, and I turn to look at Lincoln but his focus is already on his phone and his fingers are moving a million miles a minute.

“Sending another email?” I am such a smartass sometimes.

He doesn’t even look up when he responds. “I’m texting Hunter and asking him to show up a little early for the coaches’ meeting. I’d like to tell him personally, rather than in front of Dmitri and Lawson.”

Dmitri, our goalie coach, is a badass. There’s no other way to put it. After spending twenty years in the league as a goalie, during which he represented Russia three times in the Olympics, he immediately got a job as a goalie coach in the NHL. I don’t know how we were lucky enough to grab him after such a scandal, but I’m not questioning it because I don’t want to jinx it.

Lawson is our part-time skills coach. He splits his time with our team and the minor league team out of Oshkosh. Healso spent time in the NHL as a forward. He was exceptionally smooth and skillful with the puck—an extremely slippery player. Basically, he was untouchable. Again, I don't know how he ended up here but we are so freaking lucky to have them both.

“Oh, right. That’s a good idea. Although I’m sure they’ll be just as happy as we are to have him instead of Grayson.”

I’m guessing Lincoln hitSendon the text because he pockets his phone and finally looks at me. “You’re probably right, but he’s one of my closest friends. I’d like to tell him in private.”

Wait, so does that mean I don’t get to be there?

Lincoln’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “You want to tell him with me?”

Shit. Did I say that last thought out loud?

I must’ve, because if I didn't, that would mean Lincoln is being thoughtful and cares about me enough to ask if I want to be there.Or, he’s just being a good head coach and asking his assistant to join.

“I’d love to tell him with you. Thanks.”

He nods and stands up from the table. “Sounds good. Meet me in my office fifteen minutes before the meeting.”

I look down at my watch and see that it’s already 7:30. “So you mean, meet you in your office in fifteen minutes?” I quirk an eyebrow.

Lincoln looks down at this smart watch and blows out a breath. “Damn. I didn’t think this meeting took that long. I feel like we just got here. But yeah, I guess I’ll see you in fifteen.”

“See you in a bit,” I say as I gather my stuff and follow him out the door.

I turn right into my office and watch Lincoln walk down the hall before he turns to enter his office. It’s nearly impossible not to stare at that ass when given the opportunity.

Hockey butts. There’s nothing like them.

There isn’t enough time to get any type of real work done, so I boot up my computer and shoot a quick email to our trainer asking for an update on any injuries. Our home opener is tomorrow, and I’m hoping our starting defenseman who’s been battling some muscle tightness is ready to go.

After sending that email, I grab my phone and practically sprint to the office kitchen. I need caffeine in an IV.

I turn the corner into the kitchen at too high a speed and run into a brick wall. I throw my hands out to save myself, only to be met with a rock hard chest. Not a brick wall. Lincoln. The thud of Lincoln’s heartbeat under my palm is mesmerizing. My body is scandalously close to his. He has one arm wrapped around my waist to steady me, the other holding my upper arm gently. My nose is buried in his clavicle, his scent invading everywhere.

His voice is low, gruff and intimate when he speaks to me. “Whoa, Ellie. You good?”

I glance up at him and am so distracted by his emerald eyes, I forget how to speak. “Uh…my…yeah. Mm-hmm. Good.”

He shoots me a devastating smirk and slowly releases me from his hold, his fingers tracing my lower back as he does so, sending a shiver through my body.

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