3. Emma

Chapter 3

Emma

A s Lachlan pulls away, I feel a rush of heat on my cheeks. Jamie's awkward presence in the doorway only makes it worse.

"What is it, Jamie?" I ask, trying to sound composed.

He shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. "Just wanted to see if you needed anything. My dad might know some guys who might be interested in coaching. I wanted to know if you thought I should reach out…"

He trails off, looking between me and Lachlan as if he's trying to decipher hieroglyphics. For a second, I consider telling him to leave, but that would be a foolish move. I need all the help I can get.

"Thanks, Jamie," I say, forcing a smile. "Any leads would be appreciated. Just email me the details, and we'll take it from there."

"Right," he nods, backing out of the doorway. "Will do. Sorry for interrupting."

As he hurries off like a hare with a fox on its tail, Lachlan and Keir exchange glances before turning back to me.

"Well," I say with a small sigh. "That was..."

"Awkward?" Keir finishes, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckle despite myself. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

Lachlan's expression is hard to read as he looks at me. "You okay?"

I nod, locking eyes with him for a moment before glancing at Keir, whose gaze is filled with quiet concern. "Yeah, I mean, we said we weren't going to hide it…"

Keir steps closer and cups my face. "The cat is out of the bag now about you and Lachlan, but we don't have to blab about the rest, just yet."

My heart swells at his words, and I reach up to place my hand over his, giving it a squeeze, knowing he probably wants to blab it to the world. I mean, I do, but there are things to overcome first. I nod, not really having the words at my disposal.

Keir's touch is warm and reassuring, but I can see the longing in his eyes. He's been more patient than a saint, but sometimes I wonder if it's actually killing him inside, knowing that Lachlan and Taran have hit a home run with me, and he hasn't yet. Wait, that's baseball…

"We'll handle it," Lachlan says, interrupting my thoughts. "One step at a time."

The way they're both looking at me makes my heart do a little flip. It's not every day you get three incredible men ready to stand by your side, come high water or low.

I smile as Keir shyly leans in and brushes his lips against mine. It's soft and sweet, nothing like the fiery kiss Lachlan just gave me, but it gives me goosebumps all the same.

"See you tomorrow, Emma," Keir whispers before pulling away.

"Bye," I reply, feeling a little breathless.

As they leave, I sit back down at my desk, taking a moment to catch my breath. The reality of my situation sinks in again. Running an ice hockey team, navigating complex relationships with three very different but equally amazing men—it's a lot to handle on top of Colin quitting and Highland Spirits pulling out.

I gather my things and turn off the office light. The rink is silent now, just the faint hum of the ice machines in the background as I make my way out to the car park, climb into Minnie the Mini, and start the engine. I feel like I'm trudging through jelly, suddenly exhausted and starving. Before I set off, I ring Anna. She answers on the second ring.

"What's up?"

"Want pizza?"

"I was just about to get dinner on, but sure."

"What were you making?"

"Cottage pie."

My stomach growls at the thought of such a hearty meal. "Fuck pizza. Do your thing."

She giggles. "Yes, Ma'am."

We hang up and I set off for the cottage, hoping that tomorrow doesn't kick me in the lady nuts quite as hard as today did.

Arriving home in record time, pushed on by my hunger, I pull up outside the cottage and turn the engine off. Climbing out with a sigh, I turn my phone off and trudge inside, slightly buoyed by the delicious aroma of Anna's cooking.

Anna is bustling about in the kitchen, her dark hair tied back in a messy bun. She turns to me with a grin, which then turns into a look of horror. "You look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards."

"Gee, thanks, bitch," I mutter, dropping my bag by the door and kicking off my shoes. The relief of being home is real, and I wish I could just stay here and never go out that door again.

Anna pulls two glasses from the cupboard. "Wine?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I say, sitting down at the counter and propping my chin on my hand. "I could drink an entire bottle tonight."

She laughs, grabbing a bottle of red from the rack and pouring us each a generous glass. "Here you go," she says, sliding one over to me before turning back to tend to the cottage pie.

I take a big sip of wine. "So, after the nightmare of the sponsor pulling out, Colin, the coach, quit on me, and your little pal Jamie walked in on Lachlan kissing me."

Anna's eyes widen as she turns back to face me. "Wow. That's... not good. Colin really quit?"

I nod. "Yeah. And with everything else going on—the team, trying to prove myself—it feels like I'm juggling flaming swords."

She sets down her spoon and comes over to give me a quick hug. "You're doing great," she says softly. "I know it feels like the hits keep on coming, but you've got this. We've got this. Surely we can find another coach willing to step in?"

"Jamie said his dad might know some guys." I give her a searching stare.

"What?" she asks innocently.

"He saw Lachlan kissing me!"

"So? He won't tell anyone."

"He might. It'll be all over the locker room tomorrow and I bet that they all decide that's why Colin walked out."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she ventures.

"And say what?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. That it's a secret?"

"But it's not a secret. We just didn't want people, as in the team, to find out by walking in on it!" I shove my hands into my hair with a growl of annoyance. "This day!"

"Yeah, I hear you. Still, I can talk to him, make him see he shouldn't jump to conclusions."

"And why would he listen to you?" I ask, giving her a vicious glare.

She gives me a slow smile. "He is enraptured with me. I'm the older woman, he's the cute up and coming hockey player who likes being told what to do... It's a thing."

"A thing," I repeat.

"A thing." She dishes out the cottage pie, and I guess chat time is over. She has clammed up, probably because I'm being an arsehole.

"Would you?"

"Would I what?" she clips out.

"Talk to him. Please?"

She turns to me and beams. "Of course."

And just like that, all is forgiven. She is really the best friend a girl could have.

We sit down at the table, our plates piled high with steaming cottage pie. The rich aroma fills the room, and for a moment, it feels like everything might just be okay.

"So," Anna says between bites, "what's the plan?"

"Try not to get fired by my own team?" I joke, although there's a hint of truth in it. Can they organise a coup to get rid of me as owner? I don't even know. I do know they can make my life a living hell until I leave of my own free will, and that thought settles like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach.

"Maybe start by finding a great new coach," Anna suggests, breaking into my spiralling thoughts. "One that actually shares your vision. And if Jamie's dad has connections, even better."

I nod slowly. "I suppose that's step one. But then there's the sponsorship issue. We need funding to keep this team afloat, Anna."

She leans back in her chair, tapping her fork against her plate thoughtfully. "You ever thought about local businesses? I bet there's plenty who'd love to back the Warriors. Maybe you just need to get out there and schmooze a bit."

"Schmooze?" I raise an eyebrow. "Do I look like the schmoozing in person type?"

"No," she says with a laugh, "but you've got charm when you want to use it. Plus, you've got Lachlan and Keir. Maybe they can help? Show up in their jerseys, looking all rugged and athletic—people eat that shit up."

I chuckle despite myself. The thought of parading Lachlan and Keir around like some sort of marketing ploy is amusing, but not entirely off base. I mean, we've already got the calendar set up. What's a bit more parading? "Might have to give that a try."

"See? There's always something we can do." She raises her glass towards me in a toast.

I clink my glass against hers, feeling slightly more optimistic than I did twenty minutes ago. "You're right. We'll figure this out."

We finish our meal in comfortable silence, the tension of the day gradually ebbing away with each bite of food and sip of wine.

After dinner, we load the dishes into the dishwasher and retreat to the living room. Anna flicks on the TV, and we settle onto the couch with another glass of wine each.

We chat and giggle for a while longer, reminiscing over old stories and concocting wild plans for getting new sponsors and finding a coach. There's something comforting about spending time with Anna; she always knows how to lighten the mood.

Around ten, after much laughter and several more glasses of wine, we decide it's time to call it a night. I crawl into bed after swapping my clothes for pjs and try to push everything aside so I can go to sleep, and hopefully, things will look brighter in the morning.