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We said our goodbyes and loaded Roscoe into the truck. He sat happily between me and Brock, barking at anyone who dared to walk too close. The fact he didn't even bother to protest the jersey was cracking me up. Right now though he was just as happy as I was to be reunited.
"Practice still?" Brock questioned. "Or do you want us to drop you guys off at home or your parents?"
"Dad's at practice, let's go there," I said. "Just wait to see Coach Slade turn into a softy."
Roscoe didn't complain once as we headed back to Haven's Crossing. Though he did take forever sniffing the small yard outside of the rink when we arrived. I was anxious to go inside but I wasn't ready to clean up pee from the floors.
When he did his business I led him inside, calling out to Dad.
"Dad!"
He ran out of the back hall, eyes wild, then he saw who was at my side.
"Roscie!" he yelled, his attitude changing right away. He ran forward and I let go of the leash, the two coming together like a parody of a romantic comedy. Roscoe did his little yelp barks, showering Dad in drool and kisses while the guys gaped at their usually stern coach.
"You've got to be kidding me," Tate snorted. Dad shot him a look of warning but scratched my sweet boy behind his ears like he loved.
"Don't breathe a word of it," Dad said as he stood, brushing the hair off his polo and pants. "Glad you found him, sweetheart."
"I didn't, they did," I said, giving credit where it was due.
Dad nodded once at them in approval before walking away, whistling for Ros to follow him. Just like that, I lost my dog again. At least this time I knew he was happy and I’d get him back.
"Guess the Hawks have a new mascot. He'll be great for morale," Brock mused, shaking his head. "I wish I'd videoed that reunion."
"Don't worry, I did," Elias snorted, turning his phone to show us. "Worth the death warrant for sure."
Today had been such a rollercoaster of emotions and I could hardly believe that they'd found my dog for me. It was unexpected and amazing and I almost wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming.
"How are you real?" I questioned in awe. "I'll never be able to repay you for this."
"It's not about repayment, though that thing you do with your tongue is always appreciated," Brock flirted. I laughed, shaking my head at their inability to be serious. But when I locked my eyes on his, I saw it—all the words he couldn't form properly.
I'd never believed in falling head over heels before.
Yet here I was, ready to throw all caution to the wind and give them everything they were asking for.
ChapterSeventeen
Macy
"This is all you," my dad told me as he handed over a stack of papers. "This is the contract. The sports photographer said she had everything else covered. Here's the check for her."
He turned and practically ran away just as someone pushed open the doors, peeking inside. She had on cat eye glasses and bright-pink makeup, a contrast to her all-black outfit. Her hair was blonde and pinned up in a french twist. She was definitely a professional, of what, I had no clue.
Dad gave nothing away.
"Hello, my name is Macy Slade, project manager here. Can I help you?" I asked with a friendly smile. Honestly, I just prayed she didn't ask specifics because I was lost.
"Macy, nice to meet you! I'm Blake," she said excitedly. "Can I borrow the guys to help me carry my equipment in? This'll be best on the ice."
"Oh sure," I said like it was no big deal. "Let me grab them."
She walked outside as I took off down the hall toward the locker room. Shielding my eyes, I slammed my hand on the door and pushed it open.
"Cover yourselves, I'm coming in!" I yelled out. There were a few protests but I kept my hand in place until someone was blocking out the light. I smirked as I dropped my hand, Tate stared down at me.
"Ours are the only dicks you get to see, baby. What are you doing?"
