Hotshot: MM Small TownHockey Romance (The Elmwood Stories Book 5) by Lane Hayes

Author:Lane Hayes [Hayes, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

10

HANK

Elmwood loved hockey. We established that, right? But I had no idea their love of the sport was borderline cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Seriously, Denny’s homecoming was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. The town pulled out all stops for their NHL hero and then some.

Check this out: A welcome home banner spanned the width of Main Street, and every storefront pasted his number on their door. The Hendersons named a brownie for him—Denny’s decadent brownie, in case you’re curious. Ivan and Court gave a free “drink of choice” for a day at Rise and Grind, and all the baristas wore Denny’s jersey.

And they might as well have renamed the diner Denny’s Diner. The menu was revised so that every item began with “Denny’s.” Denny’s pancakes, Denny’s waffles, Denny’s burger, Denny’s fries, Denny’s pot pie, Denny’s…everything.

But Elmwood Rink might have outdone them all with their supersized poster, a photo of Denny in action that covered the entire side of the building. I was told there was another one at the high school rink, but I hadn’t seen it yet.

I walked through town with my mouth open in awe of the outpouring of love and support. I’d never seen anything like it. This wasn’t corporate-sponsored rah-rah bullshit. This was a community effort, funded privately by proud citizens who’d rooted tirelessly for Denny all season and wanted to thank him for representing Elmwood. It was unbelievably cool.

Yet all I could think was…

“He’s going to fucking hate this,” Annie grumbled.

Yeah, what she said.

I stared up at the welcome sign and rocked on my heels. “It’s nice.”

She sighed. “They’ll do the same thing for Jake. We don’t play favorites here. Well, I do, but he’s my grandkid, so who cares?”

“Understandable.”

“Mmhmm. He’s loved and appreciated. That’s not the worst thing in the world, is it?”

Sounded amazing to me. But hey, I was the outsider, dodging suspicious glances on the regular, so you know…perspective.

Okay, things had improved slightly for me over the past month or so.

I’d hired a couple of employees at the mill. I had another ninety places to fill, but it was better than nothing. The personnel issues had calmed just as a slew of newly constructed homes were slated to break ground. That was a relief, for sure, but at the rate the orders were coming in, we’d be forced to transfer employees from Denver to handle the overflow.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” our new manager, Cooper, warned. “We need locals. I’ll help you as best I can.”

Good. I needed help.

Hiring Cooper McMurry was possibly my greatest contribution as CEO of the Wood Hollow Mill, or whatever the fuck my temporary title was. Cooper was a single dad in his late thirties originally from Fallbrook who’d worked for the Larsons since he was a teenager before taking a job in Upstate New York.

But he was back, and thank fuck he was also extremely qualified to lead hardcore lumberjacks. His expertise was forestry and trust me, everything about him screamed legit. Cooper

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