We move out into the hotel room as a collective whole, the kids still clinging to me excitedly, but I can’t take my eyes off Tristan. I can still feel my lips tingle as the kids chatter on about how excited they are for me to be their new nanny. I can’t seem to respond though, still in a trance from Tristan’s kiss.

He took me by surprise. I want to smile at the kids, pretend that it didn’t happen, and focus on the offer I just made him, but I find myself completely lost.

Why did he kiss me?

Why did he leave me weak in the knees like that?

Is this the reason that Isobel left?

Maybe he wasn’t telling the truth. Maybe he led her on. Hell, maybe he has a thing for nannies, and he isn’t as innocent in all this as he claims. But, as I look down at Darcy’s bright eyes looking up at me as if I’m Santa Claus on Christmas Day, I know it doesn’t matter what Tristan’s motives are. I can’t go back on my word.

“Is it true, Faith?” Ferguson asks, glancing up at me as he squeezes my hand tightly in his.

Tristan pulls the little boy away gently, allowing me a bit of space, and takes him in his arms. But, all eyes are on me.

I want to discuss it with Dad, maybe find out if it’s even something that I can do. Or, if it’s something I should do.

But, I nod my head. It’s too late for that. I can’t go back on my offer, and I don’t want to.

I nod my head again, just as I have a brilliant idea. Something that will make Dad see things from my point of view and maybe, just maybe, make this whole thing worthwhile for everyone involved.

“It’s true, Ferguson,” I promise him. “But, only if your dad helps me with something.” I smile ruefully, bending down closer to Darcy. Everyone’s eyes shift from me to Tristan.

He raises an eyebrow and asks, “What’d you have in mind?”

I stand up, thinking this is most likely the best and only chance I have of ever obtaining a scholarship or even getting into college with a late application.

“I want to go to college, and I want to play hockey when I’m there. Maybe even get a scholarship to help pay for the tuition.”

I realize that I’m not making any sense, just rambling on and not telling him the whole story. “I used to be a pretty good player,” I explain. “But that was a long time ago. Now. I’m not even sure I could score—”

“You’re asking me to help you score.” His mouth quirks upward, making heat rise in my cheeks.

I don’t even dignify his little innuendo with an answer.

He’s rubbing his chin, still thinking about it when Darcy offers loudly, “Dad can help you with hockey, and he’ll pay you for looking after us, too.”

Tristan laughs, but he nods in agreement. His expression is clouded, though, as he debates it silently. Finally, he extends a hand out toward me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I can help you with that.”

“Deal.” I shake his hand, then high-five the kids, unsuccessfully hiding my excitement. I stamp it down, though, because I can tell that Tristan has something else on his mind.

A knock at the door prevents me from finding out what it is. His coach stands on the other side. He makes a swift movement, advising him that breakfast is almost over, and that Tristan missed his window to eat with the other players.

The kids have their meal tickets, and I usher them toward the door with their dad. I have to tell my own father that I’m not going to be able to work with him for a little while. That’s the hard part, and I feel guilty for even doing it, but I think he’ll see my side of things once I tell him about the agreement we’ve just made.

Tristan’s helping me, and I’m helping him. It’s that simple. Right?

* * *

Tristan arranges a driver to take me to my house, and then his agent will wait at the airport with the tickets. When he suggested such a plan, I was a bit confused and nervous, wondering why he didn’t just get his agent to look after the kids, which would ultimately write me out of the equation completely. I worked up the guts to ask him, and he very quickly explained that he wouldn’t let his agent look after his dog, let alone his children.

He didn’t know me, and he’d left his children with me. That wasn’t saying much for his agent. But the idea that he trusted me enough on merely a first impression sent a wave of pride through me.

“So, he turned up in the end?”

I nod my head. I’d come to Dad’s house, hoping to catch him before he headed to the store for the day. He always went there on Sundays. I never understood why, because the store wasn’t open for business.

“Yes, he did,” I explain, speaking faster than I need to. “And he needs a babysitter, Dad. Well, not him, his kids. You know what I mean.” I sigh, frustrated at how flustered I am. “So, I’m going to fly to Colorado with them, to look after Darcy and Ferguson for a while. In exchange, Tristan has agreed to pay me, as well as help me with my hockey skills.”

I didn’t waste time with more details, and by the look on his face, he didn’t need them.

“Run that by me again?”

I begin again, this time slower, but Dad dismisses me, saying, “I heard what you said, but you’re not doing it.”

“Why?”

I know all the reasons why it isn’t a good idea. But, I have to stand my ground and let him know that this isn’t his decision.

“Because it’s crazy. You don’t even know the man, or the children, for that matter. And judging by the way you were clearly star-struck by him, I know what he’s got in mind by offering up that deal, Faith. You’re not going to perfect your skills with him. He’s in it to score.”

He’s getting angry, raising his voice. I’m affronted by his immediate stance, and the blunt way he assures me of it, but he’s not done.

“You haven’t had any real experience with men like him,” he continues. “Guys like that only want one thing. They’re stars, and they use it to get young girls like you to do whatever they want.”

“Naïve girls like me.” It’s not a question, but more a sarcastic statement.

His shoulders sag slightly. “It’s just not a good idea, Faith.”

Dad never raises his voice, but the vein is still popping out at the side of his neck, and I can tell he’s still simmering with anger.

There’s got to be more than just this that’s bothering him, something that has nothing to do with me going to Colorado on a whim. One quick scan of the room, and I know exactly what it is.

The kitchen table is scattered with unopened envelopes. More bills. Sitting there, because he hasn't had the guts to open them. The same thing he did last month, and the month before that. I knew he was in financial trouble, but if those envelopes are all bills waiting to be paid, he’s screwed.

I point to them and say, “You need help with that, and Tristan’s willing to pay me good money to keep an eye on his children, Dad.”

He scoffs, disliking my new plan of attack to make him agree with my decision. “Oh yeah, how much?”

Damn it, we didn’t even discuss money.

Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I’m going ahead with this for all the wrong reasons.

Like, say, the hot, passionate kiss Tristan hit me with this morning in the hotel bathroom.

“A lot,” I reply indignantly, but he doesn’t believe me any more than I do. It sounds weak, and I don’t even know what a decent figure would be to toss out.

He shakes his head, running his hand over his balding head. “You don’t even know how much, Faith. This is exactly the reason why you can’t go. The man hasn’t even divulged how much he’s paying you, and you’re already packing your things.”

Suddenly, he’s laughing at me, looking me straight in the eye while he does it. I don’t like him mocking me, but I don’t have any words to defend myself.

Because he’s right.

I ignore him as he calls my name, grabbing my keys from the entryway stand. I’ll pack a few things in a bag, grab my passport, and go. Dad can’t stop me, and though I hate defying him, I feel like this is one time I’ve got to.

He’s standing by the door when I rise after pulling my shoes back on, waiting for me near the bottom of the staircase. It’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done to kiss him on the cheek and give him a sad smile. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”

He doesn’t say a word, just turns around and heads into the kitchen. I sigh, not wanting to leave on bad terms. Dad and I have hardly ever been on bad terms.

But, this is a win-win situation, even if he doesn’t realize that. He’ll get the money he needs, and, maybe I’m just as naïve as he says I am, but I know there was something in that kiss this morning. Tristan didn’t kiss me because he felt like it. He did it because he felt something between us. The same thing I’m convinced I felt the moment I met him.