Page 33 of Revenge Puck
Then I laugh when Garrett brings up my job again. “So, you control our social calendar outside of work?”
“Pretty much,” I say smartly. “Requests come in, I sort logistics, coordinate timing, make sure no one double-books you or accidentally sends you to three cities in one day. Supervise.”
Garrett laughs. “You want to be supervised, Bishop?”
Aaron shrugs. “Only if she’s the one doing the supervising.”
As if my involvement would stop him from doing what he wanted,I want to say, the image of him kneeling by that child’s bed flashing through my brain.
But also:Are they both flirting with me?
At the same time? And if they are,whyis Aaron flirting?
Aaron hadn’t wanted to bang me when he had the chance, when we were alone at my place, even though I couldn’t have been more obvious, throwing down SCREW ME signals. He hadn’t even gotten me completely naked.
“Be honest.” Garrett’s eyes dance as he regards me. “Do I get written up if I ask you on a date?”
I open my mouth to respond when Aaron’s voice cuts me off. “Yes.”
Garrett blinks. “You’re not my boss.”
Aaron doesn’t even look at him—he’s staring at me. “You haven’t cracked open the employee handbook, have you?”
Garrett snorts. “No. Why? Is there a quiz?”
Aaron tilts his head, regarding the rookie defenseman, debating whether or not to squish him like a bug. “It says, ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Ignore a beautiful woman standing three feet in front of me?” Garrett gestures toward me indignantly.
“Yes, dipshit, that’s exactly what that means.”
Garrett turns to me and lowers his voice. “For the record, we would eat at acompletelydifferent restaurant.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes my throat. Garrett Storm is adorable. In fact, if I wasn’t already daydreaming tirelessly about the man standing next to him, I would be tempted to break the No Fraternization Policy all over again!
Maybe.
Whitney suddenly appears in a nearby doorway, waving. “They’re opening the service hallway for us—want to see where they prep the food and bring in all the equipment?”
Not really…
“Ooh! I do!” Garrett says. “I wanna see!”
He jogs toward Whitney, an overgrown puppy distracted by a bouncing tennis ball, abandoning me to Aaron Bishop.
It’s quiet between us, nothing but the echo of distant chatter and staff moving in the background.
He studies the marble tiles. “Be careful with him.”
My head snaps up. “Who? Garrett?”
That human golden retriever? Please.
“He doesn’t think before he acts, everything is on impulse,” Aaron says. “Even on the ice.”
“And you do?”
“Yes.”
