Page 125 of Perfectly Grumpy

R. Marco

Carolina Crushers Owner

I stare at the email.Please hold off on drafting PR materials for Tate Foster.Which is PR-code for: he’s leaving the team.

My stomach drops. Because I finally know what I want—him, us, this big beautiful life we started creating together—and now he might be a thousand miles away. What if I’m giving up my dream job for a man who’s about to leave? What if the timing is all wrong?

He mentioned news about Seattle, and I already know the scout was at the game. And now I’m scared about the future.

But maybe that’s the old Lauren thinking, the one who always played it safe, who spun every situation instead of just being honest about what she wanted.

I want to tell him. But what if he hears it as pressure and I make this harder for both of us?

A sharp knock at the door jolts me out of my spiral. I quicklyclose the email and try to look professional, even though inside I’m quaking.

Jaz stands on the other side, her cheeks flushed with that unmistakable pregnancy glow, and just seeing her smile makes my shoulders relax a little.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she says, coming into my office and settling into the chair on the other side of my desk. “Do you mind?” she asks, already propping her swollen ankles up on a nearby side table.

“Oh, not at all. You look amazing. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m ready to have this babytoday,” she groans. “Brax says not to get my hopes up. It’ll probably be another two weeks.” She rests a hand on her belly, then gives me a secretive smile. “So, how did the interview in Kansas City go?”

I blink. “How do you know about that?”

She smirks. “Tate. Don’t worry, we can keep a secret.”

“We? How many people are aware that I interviewed for an NHL job?”

She gives me a sheepish grin. “Pretty much the whole team. But just so you know, it wasn’t Tate’s fault. Rourke can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Rourke doesn’t even live with you,” I say.

“Well, he might as well be, as much time as he’s been spending there,” she says, shifting in her chair to get a pillow behind her back. “But forget Rourke—how was the interview? I want to know everything.”

“It was…” I try to think of a way to spin the truth, but I can’t. Not anymore. And Jaz is my friend. “Terrible. Just plain awful.”

“What are you saying?”

“They talked down to me the entire time. It was almost like they didn’t want me—they wanted a PR robot.” The words spill out. “I kept thinking how much better I liked working here, with the Crushers. With all of you.”

“Does Tate know how the interview went?”

“No. I haven’t even seen him yet.” I can’t hide the disappointmentin my voice. “I guess I thought he’d be here waiting for me when I came back. To surprise me, or at least welcome me home.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, the guys had some boring meetings. Probably couldn’t get out of them. Trust me, he’d be here if he could. He’s been asking about your flight time and checking his phone constantly. He contacted you while you were gone, right?”

I nod, thinking about the perfect timing of his message. How he knew exactly what I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it. “He was right. I missed him every single day.”

“Good,” she says. Her phone buzzes in her hand as she gets to her feet. “Oh, great. I have a call. Gotta run, or whatever a pregnant lady does when she’s hurrying. The retirement home wants another Crushers visit, which is really just an excuse for the older ladies to flirt with the players.”

Jaz pauses at the door, turning back to me with a concerned look. “Hey, don’t read too much into Tate not being here today, okay?”

“I know,” I say with a small sigh. “I just missed him more than I expected to.”

Jaz steps back into the room and shuts the door behind her. “Lauren, that man has been a complete mess without you. He’s been looking up everything about the team’s history and mapping out the best route to Kansas City.” She leans forward. “And get this—Brax caught him online shopping yesterday. Want to guess what he was buying?”

I shake my head.

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