Free Skating on Thin Ice: Seattle Sockeyes (Game On in Seattle Book 1) by Jami Davenport Page A

room. “Might as well drink their booze.”
    “I like nothing better than spending the Sleezers’ money.” She smiled up at him and his heart did this little thump-thump which had become par for the course around her lately. She was dressed uncharacteristically in a Giants jersey and a pair of jeans, her long, silky milk chocolate hair tied in a sassy, though neat, ponytail rather than her usual prim bun. Ethan like sassy. Hell, he liked her. Too much.
    “Coop’s not having the best series.” Ethan commented, trying to distract his libido, but in this case, not even hockey did that.
    “Coach is playing him too much, not giving him a chance to rest his legs. He’s no good to us tired. The team has other guys who can skate, but Coach is too conservative, too afraid to give them their shot.”
    “I was thinking that myself.” Ethan hadn’t been overly impressed with Fur so far. When the team lost, they lost because of the man’s decisions, the matchups he put in the ice, his game management, and when they won, they won in spite of him. Or so it seemed to Ethan, but he needed more information. He never made knee-jerk decisions, especially when it came to a man’s job, until he had all the facts.
    He glanced at Lauren. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and chewed on it. He took a long pull on his beer to stop himself from groaning but he choked.
    “Are you all right?” She studied him with concerned brown eyes.
    “I’m fine, I just—just. Nothing.”
    Lauren fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I don’t mean to say that Coach isn’t good, just that he sometimes tries too hard. You know? I mean he’s a great coach. We’re so lucky to have him.”
    So now she was doing damage control, probably afraid she’d said too much. “Don’t worry, Lauren. Your opinions are safe with me.” Yeah, right, like he didn’t have the power to turn this team on its head and spin it. And he most likely would. The information she fed him in bits and pieces all became part of that bigger puzzle being worked out in his brain.
    “I don’t want to criticize anyone. I’m not in his position, so it’s not fair of me to second-guess his decisions. Too many other people are doing that.”
    “I understand.” What the hell else was he to say? That the coach was most likely on the hot seat? That he already had his eye on the guy’s successor, a fiery, young, progressive assistant coach for another playoff team, who’d be a hot item once the playoffs ended.
    Ethan stared down at the ice. The skaters circled and weaved during their warm-ups somewhat reminding him of hawks circling over a clearing while on the hunt. These guys had the same grace and fluid motions, and he never got tired of watching them.
    His team.
    He never got tired of watching Lauren, either, especially when she didn’t know he was. He loved how she leaned forward and grabbed the seat in front of her during the game, her face an intense study in concentration. She didn’t care what anyone thought and let loose when they scored or when a bad call happened. She called out her guys when they screwed up—not that they could hear her—and she literally jumped up and down in her seat when they executed a perfect pass or defensive move that stopped a score.
    God, he loved so many things about her in such a short amount of time and keeping their relationship strictly business was killing him, especially when she cast longing glances at him. That definitely killed him.
    Regardless, he was here for hockey, not for any other reason.
    * * * *
    Lauren sat in her office the next morning after four hours of sleep, her fingers wrapped around a strong cup of French roast coffee.
    They’d flown back to Florida late last night after winning game five in Montreal. Coop had been on fire, and the Giants won by a score of 2-1. One more win and they’d advance to round two. Wow. Imagine that. Round two of the playoffs for a team not given a chance of even making the