Teo steered his SUV into the players’ parking lot and took the first available spot at the end of a row. He’d have to sprint across the blacktop if he was going to make it on time. Shifting into park, he bailed out of the car and ripped open the back door. “Come on, Akoni, we’re late.”

Akoni lifted his pudgy arms, eager to get out of his car seat. The kid had a love-hate relationship with the straps. He loved to hate them and arched his back in protest whenever Teo tried to buckle him in. His efforts were admirable, matching Teo’s determination to hold back the defensive line on the field. While Teo was grateful to see hints that his son would follow in his footsteps, maybe even play for the Titans one day, he would love to see Akoni apply himself to a less frustrating situation. But there was no changing who the kid was—and Teo admired his spunk.

Teo tucked the one-year-old into the crook of his elbow, threw the diaper bag over his shoulder, and took off at a sprint. He was pushing it. Not by running, that came easily enough. He was pushing the clock. Thankfully, this wasn’t an off-season mandatory workout. Coach would have made him suffer for showing up late. Coach may not breathe down his neck today, but the camp was important to the Titans and to the downtown area. James Knight, the team owner, wanted to make sure Dallas loved the Titans enough to overlook the traffic jams on game days and approve changes in roadways to make life easier for the fans.

Akoni giggled as they ran. As much as Teo loved to toss his son in the air and have his laughter fill up their otherwise empty home, today was no game. He’d have to be on guard for reporters—cameras were sure to be everywhere. Any chance columnists had to get the latest scoop on the Kincaid brothers was sure to be a feeding frenzy, and the last thing Teo wanted was his son caught up in a tank of sharks. Teo had been able to avoid the press after Amy died in the middle of last season by releasing a blanket statement asking them to respect his time of mourning and give him space. By walking through those doors, he was declaring himself open to interviews and comments.

He reached for the door only to have to pull back quickly as someone opened it from inside.

“Whoa.” The little woman tipped her head up and up until Teo was blindsided by her eyes—blue with swirls of green like the ocean surrounding his island home. The ocean he’d stared at when he needed to re-center himself, when he needed a quiet moment alone, and when the family gathered for luaus.

“Whoa,” Teo echoed, taking in her strappy sandals, tight jeans, and flowing cream top that accented her peaches-and-cream skin. She had a nametag on a lanyard, and he glimpsed the word “intern” printed there.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Parata?”

“Teo,” he corrected. A woman this beautiful should use his first name. That should be a rule.

“You’re late.”

“Yes, I am.” He didn’t bother to explain that Akoni had a major diaper issue this morning, and he’d gagged his way through cleaning the kid and throwing out his clothing. Things like that happened with toddlers.

“Oh, you brought a friend.” She nodded to Akoni.

Akoni, a sucker for a pretty face, lit up, showing off his baby teeth. He was barely learning to walk and only said one word, but Akoni’s smile was practiced perfection. The woman smiled in return, softening for Akoni’s adorableness. Teo’s kid was cute—that was not up for debate—and he knew it, too. She reached for Akoni’s foot and tickled his shoeless toes.

“Player,” Teo muttered.

The intern pulled her hand away and straightened her shoulders as if she were slipping back into the role of responsible intern. “You’re the last one to arrive, so I’m afraid you’ve missed your chance at orientation. I’ll send Trudy to find you with a shirt.” She pulled open the door and gestured for him to go inside. He would have held the door for her, but her lips were set in a line that pointed for him to get a move on. And he’d thought meeting his coach when he was late was a bad thing. She’d have him running laps around the parking lot if he didn’t get out of her way.

They marched down the hallway to the practice field, where the sound of children’s voices welcomed them. Akoni curled into Teo at the noise as if he could become a part of him. Teo bounced him gently.

“Teo!” called Brady Giles. A cornerback, Brady was 6’3” tall and new to the team. Teo had heard the move had more to do with personal reasons than with football.

“Over here, man. You’re with me.” Brady had about ten kids bouncing around him like cheerleaders after a touchdown. He didn’t seem fazed by their enthusiasm. If the smile of his face was any indication, he was feeding off of it—excited to play. Teo had been looking forward to this camp for that very reason. Nothing made a guy feel better about his choices in life than having a bunch of kids looking up to him. Not that Teo had an overly developed need for attention. Quite the opposite, he relished his privacy from the public in general. In this situation, with kids who wanted to learn about football, he was thrilled to put himself out there and share as much as he could to help keep them safe on the field and feed their love of the game.

All his excitement had petered out when his nanny up and quit that very morning, saying she wanted freedom to pursue other career paths. Her words had changed the camp from a fun opportunity to a “have to” task.

“Thank you for coming today. We appreciate your participation,” said the polite intern before she hurried off, checking boxes on her list. Teo watched her leave, wondering what he’d done to offend her and if he should apologize.

“Teo!” Brady threw a ball to Teo earning him a round of cheers from the peanut gallery. On instinct, Teo dropped the diaper bag off his shoulder and snatched the ball out of the air, spinning so he could maintain his hold on Akoni.

He scanned the room for a place to set Akoni down. The tables had tablecloths with the Titans logo. Akoni could grab on to the fabric to pull himself up and get a laptop in his face. He could crawl onto the field and be trampled by one of the kids—or worse, a player. Teo went head-to-head with these guys in practice and came back sore. His baby wouldn’t stand a chance. He could fall down the concrete stairs … bite an electrical cord … put his finger in a socket … This place was a hazard.

But Teo couldn’t throw footballs and teach blocking while holding a one-year-old. Especially with the owner, James Knight, standing there with his arms folded, watching over things with his eagle eyes.

Teo tossed the ball back. “One second,” he told Brady. With Akoni tucked to his chest and the diaper bag in hand, Teo started toward a friendly face. Ariana Sanchez, Ace Sanchez’s sister, was standing behind the group of kids waiting to hear their assigned station. Teo had eaten at the Sanchez family’s restaurant several times. Ariana was an acquaintance, if not a friend. Surely she could watch Akoni for a bit.

He was only a few feet away when a group of kids rushed Ariana. “Are you guys ready to have some fun?” She waved for them to follow as she headed to the agility area.

Teo cursed under his breath. Ariana was too busy. There had to be someone here who could help him. He spied the intern who had opened the door moving from the first aid station to the drink cooler. She didn’t look frazzled, maybe she had time to spare. She smiled easily as she checked in with the players and fist-bumping the kids. “She’s perfect,” he decided, and switched directions to intercept her.

“Hello again.” He smiled wide.

She stepped back so she could look up at him. “Hi.”

“Have you ever worked with children before?”

Her mouth fell open slightly. “I’ll have you know that I have worked as a camp counselor since I was fifteen, and I worked in the camp kitchen at thirteen.”

He hadn’t been expecting such a strong resume, but he’d take a career camp counselor any day. “That’s perfect.” He shoved Akoni her direction.

“What?” She put both her hands in the air and took another step back.

Teo left Akoni dangling between them. He kicked his legs and grinned. “I can’t take him on the field,” he offered by way of explanation.

“Sure you can. You just did.”

An older woman wearing a Titan’s polo shirt and slacks and a guy with smooth hair and too-big teeth approached. “What’s going on?” asked the woman as she tipped her head towards the intern indicating she should answer and answer quickly—there were things to do. Her nametag read Facilities Director. As in, the person in charge.

The intern ran her delicate hand over her hip. “I’m not sure,” she replied.

Teo found his we-just-won-the-game smile. “I’m sorry. My nanny quit this morning, and I really want to be a part of the camp, so I brought Akoni along, but now that I’m here, I don’t think he should be out there with me, and I was hoping the lovely Miss …” He nodded her direction.

“Bell,” she said rather reluctantly.

His heart did a summersault. Miss Bell. The name was as beautiful and strong as the woman standing before him. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it, but he thought Bell meant Beauty. If he could have picked a name out of hundreds for her, it would have been that very one. “Bell? Really?”

“Yes, really.” Her arms lowered and her thick lashes brushed her cheeks.

For a moment, Teo forgot they weren’t alone. His heart pounded hard against his ribcage, and he couldn’t feel his feet. If coach had chosen that moment to tell him to take his place on the line, he wouldn’t have been able to get there because all there was in this world was her thick, soft, lashes brushing against her cheek. Her soft cheek, round like a peach. “That’s …” Fitting. He shook his head and tugged his gaze away from her face. She’d rung his bell, that was for sure. “Pretty.”

“Thank you?” Her eyebrows went all squiggly. She turned to her boss and lifted a hand, silently asking what she should do.

The guy standing behind the boss spoke up. “If the only way to get the league’s best offensive tackle on the field is to hold his baby, then what do you do, Miss Bell?” He cuffed Teo in the arm.

Teo resisted the urge to cuff him behind the head. He’d never liked lackeys. Several players kept them around, enjoying their yes-man attitudes.

Miss Bell’s sucked in a sharp breath and whipped around to face Teo. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t angry at him either—more like determined mixed with a healthy dose of knowing how to make the best of an imperfect situation. She reached for Akoni.

“I’d be happy to compensate you for your time,” Teo offered hoping to make the deal a little sweeter for her.

The jerk jumped in. “That won’t be necessary. Miss Bell is on a paid internship. Besides, she is loaded with motherly instincts.”

Miss Bell’s jaw flexed. She settled Akoni on her hip like she carted kids around on a daily basis. This guy was being a world-class bully, but Miss Bell didn’t lower herself to his level by arguing or hurtling insults. She was entitled to, though. Teo remembered being the freshman on the college team, forced to clean up towels and wash uniforms. He hated being pushed around, but he’d had to take it or risk being ostracized by the older players. He saw Miss Bell make the same decision, only she wasn’t worried about being socially cut out, she was protecting her job—er internship.

Which made him feel like a brute for putting her in this situation. He narrowed his gaze at the jerk and cocked his head to the side. Sending a silent invitation. If this guy wanted to take it to the mattresses, he’d be willing to see it through—and see his smug smile wiped across the AstroTurf.

The boss, who had been dividing her attention between this situation and several others, pointed to the water station. “Darrin, go make sure the water jugs are full.”

Darrin frowned and slunk away.

“Are we okay here?” she asked Miss Bell and Teo.

Akoni clutched Miss Bell’s flowing shirt in his tiny fist. He laid his head on Miss Bell’s shoulder, and she patted and rubbed his back. Teo may feel like a stinker, as his mom would say, for asking her to watch his kid, but a strong sense of peace washed over him knowing Akoni was in her capable hands. “Yep.” He started backing away. “Thank you,” he told Miss Bell, trying to express his sincerity in his voice.

Miss Bell was talking to Akoni and not looking at him. He spun on his heel and clapped his hands for Brady to throw him the ball.

He’d have to figure out the nanny situation, and soon. Not only did he have meetings with his agent, workouts, and a slew of other responsibilities, the season started in eight weeks. Without someone to watch Akoni, he’d be forced into early retirement.

He dreaded the interview process that came with finding a nanny. The nanny service he’d used to find Tiffany had sent him ten women who weren’t right, and each interview ended with him more discouraged than the last until Tiffany had shown up in sweats and a messy ponytail. She had no idea what football was and didn’t care that he played as long as his checks didn’t bounce. He thought having a woman around who wasn’t trying to impress him was a good thing, but he should have looked for someone who cared—at least a little bit—about what he thought. If he had, he might have had two weeks’ notice to find another nanny instead of being dropped at the last minute.

“Mr. Parata?” asked one of the reporters. He’d ventured into their territory, and now he was open prey. He mentally scrambled to get into the interview mindset where every word counted.

“Cassidy Stone. It’s nice to meet you. Can you tell us how the offensive line is doing?”

Teo hooked his thumb into his pants pocket. “We’re committed to being in the best shape of our careers for the upcoming season.” He took a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the camp. I don’t want to keep the kids waiting.”

“Because you’re a father too, right?”

Teo lowered his eyebrows. Akoni was not acceptable interview material. “I am. I’ll see you later.” He hurried off, all the more determined to find a new nanny so he could leave Akoni at home and out of the spotlight.

There was someone out there who would work for both him and Akoni—he just had to find her. In the meantime, Miss Bell was the perfect solution. Sometimes things just worked out.