Chapter 3 Colt
Colt
The elevator doors slide open on the executive floor of The Leopard Den, and I make my way down the corridor, past framed photos of last season's highlights and a massive window showcasing the mountains.
Delaney's office door is slightly ajar, and I'm about to knock when Paige Maddison's voice drifts through the gap.
"—and I swear to God, Delaney, the man is incredible. So last night Cade—"
"Oh my God, yay!" Delaney's voice drips with delighted anticipation. "I need details. Tate's been traveling with the high school team, and I'm living vicariously through everyone else's orgasms. Spill babe, spill."
I hear them both giggle and decide to eavesdrop for a bit longer. Hearing about Cade's sex life? This could be good payback material for messing with my playlist.
"So you know how we always say hockey players have such good stamina?" Paige sounds breathlessly excited. "Well… three times last night. Three, Delaney. And then he made me breakfast this morning. Pancakes that were shaped like hearts. While shirtless."
"That bastard." Delaney sighs wistfully as I lean against the wall outside her office, smirking. "Tate made me cereal last week and acted like he deserved a medal."
"Oh yeah. And Cade does this thing with his tongue where he—"
Okay, nope. I knock loudly on the doorframe.
"Ladies! Your favorite sidelined superstar has arrived."
Through the gap, I watch Paige's face cycle through about six shades of red as she suddenly finds her nails very interesting.
Delaney just grins and waves me in.
"Colt! Perfect timing." She pops something into her mouth and slides a Frost Café takeaway cup aside. "We were just discussing... team morale."
"Uh-huh." I step inside, letting my gaze sweep over the desk.
It's a sleek white monument to her usual organized chaos. There are at least a dozen stacked folders, a laptop, and three open bags of candy scattered across the surface. Sour straws, gummy bears, and chocolate-covered pretzels.
Delaney's legendary candy addiction has its own line item in the team budget, but three bags in one afternoon? That's wild.
Paige is perched on a chair across from Delaney, her signature red lipstick perfectly applied despite whatever bedroom acrobatics apparently happened last night.
She's clutching a Frost Café coffee cup, and I'm seriously wondering how they consider this work?
Are they getting paid right now? Seriously? !
"For the record," I say, settling into the empty chair across from them, "I'm going to need therapy after what I just overheard."
"Oh God." Paige buries her face in her hands. "How much did you hear?"
"Enough to know Jensen's a lucky man." I wink at her. "Three times? Really?"
"I hate you," she mumbles into her palms.
"Don't blame me," I chuckle and snag a sour straw from Delaney's stash.
"Forget him, babe," Delaney snorts, collecting a chocolate pretzel for herself. "I think we're both just jealous. I've been running so dry while Tate's gone that my vibrator is starting to give me judgmental looks."
"I did not need to know that," I groan, but I'm laughing.
"Please. You've heard worse in that locker room." She pops the pretzel into her mouth and points at me. "Besides, when's the last time you got laid?"
Paige suddenly perks up from behind her coffee cup. "Oh, this should be good."
"I've been concussed," I protest. "Doctor's orders. Now… why am I here again?"
Delaney pulls up something on her laptop. The nervous energy I've been carrying around my empty apartment all morning crackles under my skin.
Whatever this meeting is about, Delaney's got that look in her eyes. The corporate one that means she's about to engineer a player's entire life.
"So." She spins the laptop to face me. "We've got some ideas. About what you're going to do while you're benched."
The screen displays a presentation slide. Big bold letters read: SNOW LEOPARDS LOCAL PARTNERSHIP PROGRAM.
Beneath the title: a photo of Main Street Chilmore, all charming storefronts and twinkling string lights. And right in the center of the image, a familiar sage-green door with a golden whisk painted on the glass.
My heart does something complicated.
"What is this?"
"This," Delaney says, leaning back in her chair, "is the team's new community initiative. We're partnering with local businesses. Player ambassadors get assigned to specific shops for daily involvement, social media presence, community engagement. The whole nine yards."
"Okay..." I drag the word out, eyes fixed on that green door. "And?"
Paige jumps in, red lips now smiling. "Big Mike wants to strengthen our connection with Chilmore. Make the team feel like part of the town, not just visitors who happen to play here." She taps her own tablet. "We've identified several flagship partners. Frost Café, Shear Trouble, the bookshop..."
"And Butter Batch Bakery," Delaney finishes, watching my face like a hawk.
Zoey's bakery.
My brain rattles for approximately three seconds before rebooting with a single, crystal-clear thought: Hell fucking yes.
"You want me… to be the ambassador for Butter Batch?" I say slowly.
"Got it in one." Delaney pops another gummy bear. "You're already a regular there. The owner knows you. It's a natural fit."
A natural fit. The woman who's been haunting my thoughts, who smells like my dreams and has eyes that make me more excited than I've ever been by a woman before in my life?!
And now I'm going to have a legitimate excuse to see her?
Every. Single. Day.
"I'm in."
Paige raises an eyebrow. "Don't you want to hear the details?"
"Nope. Where do I sign?"
Delaney and Paige exchange a look that I pretend not to notice. It's the kind of look that says this is going to be so entertaining.
"Great enthusiasm," Delaney says dryly. "But maybe let's make sure the business owner is on board first, yeah?"
She reaches for her phone, grabs another gummy bear and starts dialling. She hits speaker and leans back in her chair, grinning like this is all part of her grand plan.
Ring. Ring.
"Delaney?" Zoey's voice fills the office through the speaker. "That was fast. I figured you'd at least give me until dinner before ambushing me."
"Ambush is such a strong word." Delaney grins. "I prefer 'strategic opportunity presentation.'"
A soft laugh comes through the speaker, and something in my chest loosens. I love hearing her laugh. Even when I'm not the one doing it, just hearing that sound does things to me.
"Uh-huh. And what exactly is this strategic opportunity?"
Delaney launches into her pitch, the same rant about community partnership, team involvement… blah blah blah. She makes it sound like a win-win wrapped in a bow, which I suppose it is.
For me at least.
Paige leans toward the phone while I remain sitting completely silent. "So, babe, we think Butter Batch would be perfect as our flagship partner. The community connection you've built, the quality… it's exactly the image we want associated with the Snow Leopards brand."
Paige and Delaney look at me, but there's only silence from the other end.
Then, carefully, Zoey's croaky voice echoes through. "And who exactly would be my... ambassador?"
Delaney's eyes flick to me.
"Colt Lane," she says, smug as hell. "He's very excited to be involved."
Oh God.
"Colt Lane. Gee I don't know you guys."
The way Zoey says my name, Jesus Christ, the way it sounds in her mouth. Low and skeptical and wrapped in that wispy tone that makes me want to do very inappropriate things.
I grip the armrest of my chair.
Say it again. Say it slower.
"I'll need to think about how this fits with my schedule. The bakery's a one-woman operation most days, and I've got Morgan to think about. Having a hockey player underfoot might be more chaos than I can handle."
Chaos? I mouth at Delaney, offended.
She waves me off.
"Colt's very eager to help," Paige adds. "He specifically requested this assignment."
I did not!
I mean… I would have.
"Is that so?" Zoey sounds amused now, which is somehow worse. "Well, well. Colt Lane, eager to spend his mornings elbow-deep scrubbing my burnt oven trays, huh? That's... unexpected."
"He's full of surprises," Delaney says.
Paige snorts and I glare at her.
"Well it's settled then. Colt will be by tomorrow morning to discuss the details," Delaney continues, unfazed. "Say, seven AM?"
Zoey howls with a roar of laughter. "A hockey boy awake before sunrise? I'm sorry, but does he even know what seven AM looks like?"
Something snaps in me. Maybe it's the challenge in her voice. Maybe it's the way she keeps underestimating me. Maybe it's just that I've spent three weeks alone in my apartment and I'm desperate for someone to see me as more than a sidelined liability.
I lean toward the phone before I can stop myself.
"I'll have you know I'm delightful at seven AM, Morrison."
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear my own heartbeat.
"Oh my God. Colt?!"
Zoey's voice has gone flat. Horrified. Like she's just realized she's been skinny-dipping and someone turned on the floodlights.
"Colt Lane. You have been sitting there. This entire time."
"Surprise?"
"How much did you hear?"
"Enough to know you think I'm an incapable neanderthal, apparently."
"That's—I didn't—" She makes a sound that's half-groan, half-laugh. "Urgh. This is going to be so much fun. Goodbye, everybody."
She hangs up and I sit back. Delaney and Paige are both staring at me with identical expressions of pure glee.
"That," Delaney says, "was the most entertaining phone call I've had in months."
"Glad I could provide quality content." I push to my feet, suddenly restless. "Anything else, or can I go panic about tomorrow in peace?"
Paige tilts her head. "Word of advice? Zoey's very particular about her space. Her bakery is her kingdom. And so is her daughter. So maybe… try not to... be yourself too hard."
"What's that supposed to mean?"