Chapter 5

Nick’s heart crashed against his ribs, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

As he’d walked past the coach house, having just arrived home from the airport, he’d heard the bloodcurdling screams. He’d been certain someone was being brutally murdered in there, so he’d dropped his bag and dashed to the door, grateful he still had a key to the house on his key ring so he could get in.

His breath came heavy as he stared around the small space…which was a fucking disaster.

He jerked his gaze back to Jodie and Zyana. The little girl was red in the face, her dark curls wild, her small body twisting in her mother’s arms. “What are you doing to her?” he demanded.

Jodie’s eyes widened, and it was then he noticed her eyes and cheeks were wet, as if she’d been crying. “She’s having a temper tantrum,” she shouted at him. “I’m not doing anything to her, you asshole.”

Then she squeezed her eyes shut, clearly regretting the language.

Not that Zyana was paying any attention whatsoever.

“Hey!” He stepped closer and pointed a finger at the kid. “Stop screaming.”

She stopped screaming.

The silence was earsplitting.

Zyana stared at him. She took a breath with little shuddery hiccups. “I’m afwaid of giants,” she whispered.

Jesus…

Well, it got her to stop shrieking. His ears were grateful. “Good,” he said. “Giants don’t like tantrums.”

She blinked big, wet eyes at him.

Jodie inhaled audibly. “Okay, Zyana. It’s bedtime. You didn’t want your dinner, so we’re going to bed.”

Zyana was still breathing in shaky pants. “I want Wooby.”

Jodie let out a long-suffering sigh. “We can’t find Ruby tonight, honey. We’ll look tomorrow.”

“What is Ruby?” Nick asked.

“Her stuffed elephant.”

“I can’t go to bed without Wooby!” Another screaming fit seemed imminent.

Jodie’s eyes closed as if she was searching for patience.

“Is this Ruby?” Nick stepped forward and picked up the toy wedged behind a bookshelf.

“Wooby!” Zyana extended her arms.

“Oh thank God.” Jodie met his eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know why we couldn’t find it.”

Zyana clutched the toy and said, “Thank you, giant.”

“His name is Mr. Balachov,” Jodie said.

“Nick,” he said gruffly. “Mr. Balachov is too hard to say. Call me Nick, kid. And I’m a friendly giant.” He paused. “Sometimes.” Having her a little afraid of him might be a good thing.

She nodded. “Thank you, Nick.”

Jodie turned and started toward the stairs. As she set a foot on the first step, she paused. “Shit.”

“What?” He moved toward her.

“I can’t find any of our bedding. The boxes with the sheets and pillows must have gotten lost.”

Jesus. “Hang on.” He let himself out, grabbed the bag he’d dropped, and jogged to the house. He unlocked the door, stepped in, flicked on lights, and breathed in the slightly stale air after a few days of the place being all shut up. He wiped his shoes on the mat in the mudroom, then ran upstairs. In the closet on the second level he found neatly stacked bedding that his cleaning lady, Fran, had placed there. He grabbed two sets of sheets and pillowcases, retrieved pillows and duvets from two guest bedrooms, and with it all bundled in his arms, crossed the yard back to the coach house.

The main floor was empty, so they must have gone upstairs anyway.

He climbed the stairs and found them in Zyana’s bedroom, now furnished with white furniture including a twin bed, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a tiny upholstered pink armchair. Jodie was kneeling on the floor in front of Zyana, who was dressed in pajamas—pink leggings and a sweatshirt with cartoon princesses on the front.

Jodie glanced up at him and his armful of bedding. She sucked briefly on her bottom lip and rose to help him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“What were you going to do without?”

“Um, use towels, I guess. I have some big beach towels.”

Once again he had to swallow the curse words that sprang to his lips at imagining them sleeping on beds with nothing but towels. Fuck. Watching his language around a toddler was a serious cramp in his style. Hallsy wanted to have sex all over his goddamn condo; Nick just wanted to let loose with the odd F bomb. He sighed.

“These are queen-size sheets.” Jodie held up a fitted sheet. “But it doesn’t matter,” she added quickly. “We’ll make it work. Thank you.” She set about making the bed with sheets that were way too big while Zyana sat on her little chair and hugged her stuffed elephant, still sniffling and rubbing her eyes.

Fuck. She looked so miserable and she was so damn cute, he felt like a fist had grabbed hold of his heart.

He took the rest of the bedding across the hall and made Jodie’s bed, which was a queen bed. He couldn’t help but look around, taking in the mismatched antique furniture—because that was totally his jam. He paused to run a hand over the oak surface of the dresser—worn, scratched, and dull. It was a gorgeous piece, just needed some work to be amazing. His gaze dropped to the open drawer which held…holy shit…five vibrators.

He swallowed and turned away, trying to ignore the pile of lacy lingerie on the floor.

By the time he poked his head into the other bedroom, Zyana was tucked in, still hugging her elephant, and Jodie was sitting on the side of the bed, tenderly smoothing hair off Zyana’s face. “I know it was a rough day, sweetie. We’re out of our usual routine, and everything is new and different. But you’re still my special girl. I love you so much. We have a new house, but we’re still together and we always will be, okay, sweetie?”

Zyana gazed up at her mom with big eyes and gave a tiny nod.

“I love you.” Jodie leaned down and kissed Zyana’s forehead. “Tomorrow will be a better day. Good night.”

“G’night, Mommy.” The little girl’s eyes drifted closed.

Nick’s heart clenched. He stepped back just as Jodie reached for the lamp to turn it off.

He jogged downstairs and stopped in the middle of the room. Wow. Crap everywhere, boxes both empty and full piled up, food splattered on the floor around an empty bowl and spoon. Shaking his head, he took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a stool. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and turned them back a couple of times and started by cleaning up the food, then loading dishes into the dishwasher and finding a plastic container to put away the leftover macaroni and cheese he found in a pot on the stove.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jodie said.

He hadn’t even heard her come downstairs. He looked up at her as he filled the empty pot with soapy water. “Looks like you need a little help.”

“I don’t need help.” She blew out a breath. “I’m sorry about this. I’m sure you didn’t want to come home to a toddler’s temper tantrum.”

Nope. He sure didn’t.

“We just moved in today,” she said. “The movers were two hours late. Zyana didn’t have a nap. Some boxes are missing. We lost Ruby. She’s not usually like that.”

“Sure.” He was pretty sure all kids were like that.

“Really, please, you don’t need to do that.” Jodie began picking things up. “It’ll take a while, but we’ll get settled in. We won’t disturb you.”

He picked up a towel and dried his hands. “Okay, good.”

Her lips tightened, but her gaze wandered from the shirt open at his throat, over his chest and shoulders, down to his hands and arms, lingering on his rolled-up sleeves as he dried his hands. Her eyes flickered, and her lips parted.

His spine tingled. He ignored it. “Is she asleep now?”

“Yes.” She blew out a breath and shoved the box aside. “I stayed until she fell asleep.”

“I heard you talking to her.”

She glanced at him but said nothing.

“You could have been mad at her. Yelled at her.”

The corners of her mouth lifted. “I was mad at her. And don’t think I’ve never yelled. But she couldn’t help it. She was overtired, overstimulated. I’m tired too.” She huffed out a short laugh. “But no matter what she does, I still love her and I want her to know that.”

His chest constricted again, as it had upstairs listening to her. He reached for his keys sitting on the island. “Here.” He twisted the key to the coach house off and handed it to her.

She gazed at it with a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I have a key.”

“I know. But I keep thinking about what you said about that one place you looked at. The one where the landlord kept talking about how he liked little girls.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes.

“That’s fucking scary shit,” he added. “You’re the only one with a key now.”

Her throat worked as she slowly lifted a hand to take the key from him. “Thank you.” She pulled in a breath through her nose. “I was only kidding when I asked if you were a pedophile. I really wasn’t worried about you.”

Good to know. But still…“You don’t really know me. I want you to feel safe here.”

Her bottom lip quivered. Damn. She wasn’t going to cry, was she?

But she shook her hair back and lifted her chin. “Thank you,” she said again.

He grabbed a dish sponge and wiped the stove top.

“Really, you don’t need to do this,” she said. “Now that Zyana’s asleep I can make more progress. She pretty much trashed the place looking for her elephant earlier.”

“Yeah. But sounds like it’s been a long day for you. Two of us can get more done.” Why was he doing this? He didn’t even want them here. “What needs to be done tonight?”

“Honestly, most of this can wait until tomorrow.”

“Here.” He nudged a box on the floor that held kitchen stuff. “You put this away. I’ll pick up the other stuff.”

He grabbed a box of books and began to fill the shelves. She’d probably rearrange them, but at least it got a box unpacked and out of the way.

“How was your road trip?” she asked, sitting on the kitchen floor to transfer mixing bowls and plastic containers to a cupboard.

“Good.”

After a beat, she said, “That’s it? Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you win or lose?”

“We played three games. Won two.”

“I watched the game against Dallas with Kendra the other night. I don’t know much about hockey, although a guy I dated had season tickets to the Rangers, so he took me to a game once.”

“Yeah, you told me that.”

“Oh! I did?”

“You said you went to a game once. Not that you dated a guy with season tickets.”

“Right, right. Anyway, Kendra explained some things to me. But I had a hard time following the puck.”

“Don’t follow the puck.”

“What?”

“Don’t try to follow the puck. Look at the players, look at what direction they’re facing. Because they’re probably looking at the puck. Except the player who has the puck, he’s probably looking for a teammate to pass it to, or for an open spot on the ice.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Okay, that sounds smart.” Her face cleared. “Now I want to watch another game to try that. When’s your next game?”

“Tuesday night.”

“Ah. Do you have a practice tomorrow?”

“No, we have a day off tomorrow. Practice Monday.”

“Right. I’ve been staying with Kendra and Max for a couple of weeks, so I’m getting to know how it works.”

“Ah.”

“And what about all the hitting? It seems like there are no rules.”

She just went on and on. “There are lots of rules in hockey.”

“But it’s okay to hit each other.”

“No. I mean, yes, but there are things you can’t do. You can’t use an elbow. You can’t use your stick—that’s hooking—or hold on to them. That’s holding. You can knock them down with your body, but only if it’s above the waist, if you take out their legs that’s tripping. And if you take multiple strides and deliberately slam into another player, or leave your feet to hit the other guy, that’s charging. You can hit them into the boards, but if you do it violently it’s boarding.”

“I think that’s the most sentences in a row I’ve heard you say.”

He lifted his head to look at her across the room.

Her lips twitched. “I talk enough for both of us, I know,” she said cheerfully. “So does someone look after your house when you’re gone?”

“Why?”

“Just curious. Just wanted to know if I’d see someone coming and going. Um, like maybe a girlfriend.”

He didn’t have a girlfriend, although there was Lindsey, who he’d call everyone once in a while. They’d gone out a few times, and while they were sexually compatible, neither of them was interested in more than that. He knew she saw other guys, and probably someday she’d meet someone she really cared about and their fuck-buddy relationship would end, but for now it worked for both of them.

He’d actually thought of calling her after the birthday party when Jodie had accused him of needing to get laid. Because she could have been right about that. But he hadn’t.

“No girlfriend,” he said. “I have a cleaning lady who comes once a week. Fran. I’ll let her know you’re staying here.”

“Okay, good to know. If you need me to do anything while you’re away on a road trip, let me know. I could water your plants. Feed your cat.”

“I’m allergic to cats. And I don’t have any plants.”

“Well, whatever. I appreciate you letting us stay here, so if I can repay you in any way—other than the rent of course—I’d be happy to. Speaking of rent, I have a check for you.” She stood and walked over to her purse sitting on a small table. “Here.” She dug it out and handed it to him. “It’s for the full month, even though it’s already a week into March.”

He didn’t even look at it, just folded it and stuffed it into his suit pants pocket. “Thanks. Have you managed to find daycare?”

“Yes, I think so. I looked at a nice place yesterday and luckily they have openings coming up.”

“Good.”

“I need to get Internet set up,” she said. “I’ll call somewhere tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“You can use mine. I’ll give you the Wi-Fi password.”

She gave him a long look. “Are we going to argue about that too?”

“No, we’re not, because it’s not worth it. I have Internet, it works out here, just use it, for Chrissake.” He shook his head.

“I forgot how charming you are,” she muttered.

“Jesus. I’m trying to be nice.”

Her shoulders slumped. “You are. I’m sorry. You’re just…”

“Crusty? Salty? An asshole?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, all of those.” She eyed him. “Anyway, thank you. Again.”

They kept working and she kept chatting, but it didn’t annoy him as much as he would have thought. She was actually kind of entertaining. Soon they had a bunch of empty boxes that he flattened. “I’ll put these in the storage room.”

“Thanks.”

He walked in and looked for room to store the boxes, spying a couple more boxes. He frowned and opened one. He shook his head. “Hey, I found your bedding,” he called.

She appeared in the doorway. “You’re kidding.”

“This it?” He gestured.

“Oh my God. Yes.” She closed her eyes and set a hand on her forehead. “How did I miss those? I don’t remember putting them in here.”

“Maybe the movers did.”

“Maybe. Or Kendra. She was here helping too.” She sighed. “Like I said, it was a long day. But it’s mostly done, or good enough anyway. I am now going to open the bottle of wine in my fridge and sit in front of that pretty fireplace for a few minutes before I go to bed.”

He nodded and they walked out into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, hesitated, and glanced at him. “Er, would you like a glass of wine?”

He should say no. But leaving her alone with her glass of wine while he went into his empty house alone didn’t appeal. At all. Which was weird, because he was usually looking for any excuse to hole up in his house alone. And he found himself saying, “Sure.”

She smiled and pulled the bottle out.

“I saw a corkscrew,” he said, pulling open a drawer. “Bingo.”

She handed him the bottle of wine, and while he opened it she retrieved two wineglasses she’d just put away.

She carried her wine over to the couch and collapsed onto it, legs stretched out in front of her.

She wasn’t trying to be sexy or flirtatious or even attempting to make a good impression. She had no makeup on, was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that read MILF in big letters, and in smaller letters beneath that, MAN I LOVE FRIDAYS. But somehow, he kept looking at her full lips—Christ, he’d bet any amount of money that mouth could kiss. And he kept looking at her round breasts beneath the soft shirt, and her ass in those snug jeans. And even though she wasn’t trying in the least…she was sexy as hell.

MILF. Mom I’d like to fuck. Yeah, she was a mom. He should not be thinking about fucking her.

But he was.