Page 33 of Broken As Puck

Once all the animals were relocated and the staff were keeping an eye on them, I grabbed my second camera—not the one Matt had donated to the team but another one we’d already had—and snapped some candid shots of the animals on their own.

There was a mix of breeds: a couple of small terrier dogs, a tiny fluffy thing that would fit in a handbag, an older bull terrier who was being very chill, a collie cross, and some kind of Labrador cross that absolutely loved being in the spotlight.

The cats ranged in age from young adult to elderly. There was one black cat, a handful of tabbies, a tortoiseshell, a long-haired ginger, and what could possibly be the ugliest Persian-hybrid I’d ever seen. It had the characteristic squashed face of the breed, with patchy gray fur, a chunk out of one ear, and a permanent scowl of disapproval.

I captured the best image I could and wandered back over to the dogs, eyeing the Labrador longingly. He wagged his tail so hard that it shook his whole body, and I kneeled and patted him, wishing I were at a point in my life where I could take him home.

Unfortunately, our apartment didn’t allow pets, and even if it did, living in an apartment wouldn’t suit an energetic guy like this. He needed somewhere with a backyard.

“It’s just as well my wife isn’t here.”

I looked around. Coach Dunn was standing behind me, looking down at the dogs and holding the fox plushie we were debuting as the team’s mascot. It was about a foot tall and wearing a Chicago Chaos uniform, accurate down to the black band at the bottom.

“She’d want to adopt them all,” he continued. “We’ve already got two cats and a dog at home. God knows we don’t need more pets.”

I grinned at him. “Surely one more wouldn’t hurt.”

He snorted. “If you give an inch, they’ll take a mile. First, it’d be just one little old cat that isn’t long for the world, and the next minute, the place would be packed and I’d have been kicked out of my bed so they could sleep with her.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Behind him, I saw movement, and I straightened and shielded my eyes from the sun. My heart did this weird squeeze-flutter thing when I realized one of the men approaching was Matt.

“Morning, Chelsey,” Matt said, a little too warmly for my comfort.

Austin sent him a sidelong look and then asked, “How are we doing this?”

I gestured to Viv. “That’s Viv, the shelter’s manager. You should coordinate with her and the other shelter staff to make sure each animal gets a photo with at least one player.” We didn’t want any of the poor things to be left out. “We also want plenty with our fox buddy here.”

Both men glanced at the fox, and Matt brightened. “Is that the new mascot?”

“Sure is.” Coach Dunn held it up awkwardly for them to get a better look. “Online sales will begin later this week, so fans can get one of their own to show their support.”

“Nice level of detail,” Matt said, studying the toy.

Austin nodded and made toward Viv. Matt paused for a moment, as if wanting to say something else, but then dismissed the thought and followed along behind. I watched them speak with her and checked that my camera was off, so I wasn’t wasting battery.

Other players began to arrive, and I was pleased to note that almost everyone turned up. There was no Delacrue and no Virtanen—the latter had put in an apology ahead of time which, while vague, had appeased Coach Dunn. The former was displaying yet another instance of problematic behavior. Hopefully, someone had made a note of it.

I expected that I’d need to explain what was happening, but to my surprise, Austin and Matt spoke to the other players and outlined how things were going to work, then Austin remained with Viv, coordinating others, while Matt went to speak with one of the other shelter workers, a woman perhaps a few years younger than us.

A burst of laughter drew my attention over to where Jesse was rolling around on the ground with the Labrador cross licking his face. He scratched behind the dog’s ear and its back leg started twitching. It was clearly in ecstasy. I smiled, the sight warming me as I started the camera, raised it, and took a brilliant photograph of him beaming down at the wriggly dog.

Right. The players were all getting acquainted with animals, which meant I needed to do my part too. I circulated around, taking candid photographs of the players interacting with them, and then went to the tripod I’d set up and called for them to come to me for more posed photographs.

The younger shelter worker, whose name I hadn’t caught, joined me as I positioned Drew McKinley—who was, for once, not scowling—with the bulldog. As I used the camera on the tripod to capture the pair, she leaned closer and murmured, “How do you stay focused around so many hot men?”

My finger fumbled on the button and I clicked it accidentally, just as the dog nudged Drew’s cheek with its nose.

“It’s just a job,” I whispered back, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. “They’re coworkers, of a sort. We’re all employed by the team’s owner, and they deserve to be treated professionally.”

I couldn’t help glancing over at Matt, who was waiting for his turn in front of the camera with one of the terriers. He was kneeling, his entire face lighting up as it bounced around in front of him.

My heart twinged. Damn it. Why did he have to look so good with adorable animals? It wasn’t fair.

“Can you take the bulldog?” I asked the shelter worker, then stood and passed the fox plushie to Drew. “Pose with him too, please.”

Drew grimaced and held the fox awkwardly. “This is weird.”