The Face-Off (Colorado Coyotes #5) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Colorado Coyotes Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
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“He’s a fucking idiot, then, because Zane’s a great kid.”

Tears flood my eyes and I find myself wishing it was darker so he couldn’t see my face.

“I think so, too.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re just not used to anyone doing things for you. Or at least not someone who doesn’t expect anything in return. But I don’t expect anything, okay?”

The existence of such a person goes against everything I believe deep down inside, but I nod anyway. Dom asked me out and I turned him down. Surely, he’s trying to charm me into saying yes.

“I don’t date,” I remind him.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin that’s becoming familiar to me. “I know. I won’t ask again.”

Why is that equal parts relieving and disappointing?

“If I did date--”

Tate opens the door and looks out at us. “Aunt Tess, where’s my stuffed dog?”

“Gone. I hope you said a proper goodbye before flushing him.”

“Aw, man.”

He closes the door and Dom gives me an amused look. “He’s in the bag with the towels, so you know.”

I half laugh and half sigh. “Pitch it, please.”

“We’re good?” he asks.

I nod and he opens the door for me to walk back inside. I’m not sure I’d call it good, but also... I really want a working dryer, so maybe now isn’t the time to question the white knight that seems to have walked into our lives.

Chapter Nine

Dom

* * *

“What the hell?”

I smile as our team’s newest rookie, Gray Pollard, gets his first look at the sweater hanging in front of his locker for his first game as a Coyote.

This is my favorite prank to pull, and the whole team gets in on it every time. I replaced Pollard’s actual sweater with a toddler-sized one. The tiny sweater has every detail right, including his name and number, but it’s about twenty sizes too small.

“What’s up?” Ford asks him from a nearby locker in the Tampa locker room.

Pollard gestures at the sweater. “Is this a joke?”

Ford gives me a confused look. “Didn’t you say the front office mentioned something about the vendor messing up sizes?”

“Yeah. They mixed up the orders for the team and the gift shops at the new arena.”

Pollard scoffs. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t wear that.”

What a sucker. He’s been playing pro hockey for a couple of years; he should know rookies get pranked hard.

“If you suck it in, I think you’ll be fine,” Beau says.

Pollard’s gaze snaps to him. “Is this a fucking prank?”

“I mean...” Beau shrugs. “Ask the equipment intern; he’s the one who hangs up the sweaters.”

I already coached Andy, our current intern, about how to respond to this. I’m about to casually follow Pollard as he looks for Andy, but my phone dings from inside my locker with an incoming text.

Taking it from the shelf, I read the message.

Tess: It’s like it never happened! Everything is dry and there’s no funky smell.

I texted earlier to ask her if things were good with the bathroom, and this is her response. I’m glad it all worked out; Sergei came through with a commercial-grade fan.

Dom: Great. How was your Monday?

Tess: Eh. Mondayish. Hannah forgot her lunch and a customer tipped me a nickel after I filled up his coffee repeatedly for two hours. But it’s taco night, so...I guess it balances out.

I smile at my phone screen.

Dom: I’m all for not waiting until Tuesday for tacos.

I should have asked her a question. I don’t want this conversation to end, and questions will help with that. I’m trying to think of something I can ask her that doesn’t sound awkward when I get another text from her.

Tess: I suppose you’re living it up at the beach? Didn’t you say you were going to Tampa?

Dom: I’m in Tampa, but no time for the beach. I’m in a locker room doing pregame stuff. Do you like the beach?

Tess: I’ve never been to the beach. I might get to go in a few months though if Hannah’s dance team makes it to a national competition in Orlando. We’ll just have to sell about 18,000 candy bars to pay for it. Lol.

Dom: Hey, I’ll buy ’em. I love the caramel ones.

Tess: She has a performance this week, and if she does well, she’ll be on the team that gets to compete for Orlando. Cross all the things.

Dom: Where and when is her performance? I’d love to see it.

Tess: That’s nice of you, but you’d have to sit through more than an hour of other teams just to see her four minute long routine.

Dom: That’s okay. When is it?

I’m waiting for a response, but a solid minute goes by with no text. Did I push too far? I hope Tess doesn’t think I’m trying to get her in bed by showing interest in her kids. After seeing Zane so relaxed and happy around my teammates, I’d like to do something to support Hannah, too.


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