Chapter 6
Shea
I held the door open for Brynn as we left the cafe.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile so warm it could melt an old, grizzled heart like mine.
Yeah, I wasn't sure about her when I first sat down for that interview. But she'd won me over, especially with the way she handled that overzealous fan. That took me by surprise—I didn't think she had it in her. And frankly, I figured the kids could use someone like that after Estel let them get away with bending the rules.
But Brynn? She didn't seem like a pushover.
She had spunk. And sass. And smarts.
And beauty. Not that looks ought to matter when choosing a nanny for my kids. But fuck me, it sure was easy to catch myself staring at her.
Most importantly, she didn't make a big deal out of me being a hockey player. She didn't even ask me about it. And she had to have known after that guy asked for a selfie.
“Okay, so I'll see you in a few hours,” Brynn said as we parted ways.
But I didn't want to leave her just yet. I wanted to find a way to keep her by my side. Reaching into my pocket, I found my car key fob and pressed the unlock button. My Bentley Bentayga, parked right in front, beeped at us.
“Need a lift?” I asked casually.
“Ooh,” she giggled, almost teasingly. “Thanks for offering, but I drove myself. But hey, nice ride, Shea.”
I felt like I'd been caught, somehow. Like she'd seen right through my lame attempt at impressing her. Jesus, how old was I again? I was as hopelessly lost with women as I ever was.
I shook it off. “Just making sure. I'll see you soon.”
“Bye!”
***
Back at home, I had some time to kill before the game. Instead of my usual pre-game routine—a big lunch followed by a nap—I found myself picking up the house, so Brynn wouldn't think the Ellis' lived like a pack of wild animals.
And then I cleaned myself up, shaving away my scruff.
On game days, I have to be at the rink before the kids even make it home from school. So I texted the kids to let them know that they could expect to find a new nanny when they got home from school. I told them to be on their best behavior so they wouldn't scare her off.
By the time I'd finished, Brynn was at the door.
“Hi, Shea!” she said cheerily.
She'd changed from her interview attire into something a little more casual—blue jeans and a black frilly blouse. They weren't revealing items, but I could tell that the girl had a heck of a figure.
I waved her in, fighting off the urge to sneak a peek at her butt as she stepped past me.
Control yourself, you old dog. She catches you doing that, and you're done. You're no better than all those sex-crazed boys on the team.
Brynn looked around the house, eyes wide. “Wow, you have such a beautiful place.”
“It's a mess,” I said. After the moment with my Bentley earlier, I wasn't about to gloat. “But let me show you around.”
I gave Brynn the tour and let her know some of the house rules so none of the kids could pull any fast ones on the new nanny.
“No matter what Chloe tells you, she's not allowed to go out with friends until she's finished her homework.”
“Okay.”
“The twins need to do their homework before they play hockey, too. Because once they set foot in that rink, they won't come out until it's bedtime. Oh, and make sure they actually stop to eat dinner, too.”
“Ha. Noted.”
“If Chloe has any boys over, they're not allowed to be unsupervised. No closed doors or anything like that. She was pushing the envelope on that rule with the last nanny.”
Brynn tilted her head at me. “Does Chloe have a boyfriend?”
I raised my hands. “Boyfr—she better not!”
She covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. I get it. It must be hard to watch your girl grow up, that's all.”
“Ugh …” I put the thought out of my mind and grabbed my bag of gear. It was almost time for me to go.
“Do the kids know I'll be here?” Brynn asked.
“I sent them a text, so they should know by the time they get home.”
“Great.”
“Anything else you need to know?”
“If anything comes up, I'll give you a call.”
She walked with me to the door. I turned around to give her a smile, and my eyes swept over her one last time. “Okay, Brynn. Good luck tonight.”
She patted my arm. “Thanks. And good luck to you, Captain.”
I climbed into my car and smiled.
Hope the kids don't give her a hard time.
***
I must've still been smiling when I made it to the arena, because the second I walked through the dressing room door, the boys started giving me shit.
“Look who just walked through the door! Mr. Sunshine!”
“Can you stop making that face, Boomer? I'm not used to seeing it and now I'm scared.”
“Yeah, Shea, you're awfully smiley there.”
“I am not,” I said, my scowl going back into place.
“Ah, now that's more like it,” Radar said with a laugh. “So what's gotten into you, Captain?”
I threw my bag into my locker and took a seat at my stall. “Nothing.”
“You sure?” Lance asked, leaning into me. “You sure it doesn't have anything to do with that hot teen nanny you were meeting up with earlier?”
The room went ooooooh as the boys remembered our talk from earlier, and everyone cracked up and all agreed that the nanny was definitely the reason I was in such a good mood. They bantered and speculated over how long it would be before I was banging the nanny.
“Idiots,” I grumbled.
But then it occurred to me that actually, they were sort of right for once.
“Okay, yeah, I'm smiling because of the nanny,” I admitted. “But not because I want to sleep with her, you horny toads. Only because I'm impressed with how she handles herself.” I told them the story about the fan who barged in our interview wanting a selfie, and how she'd sent the guy packing. “So, yeah, I think it's going to work out.”
“I bet it will work out,” someone joked, wink wink.
“Har har,” I answered.
“How old is she?” someone else asked.
“Um … twenty? Maybe?”
The room went, “Oooooh.”
“Not that it matters,” I said, “because that's way too young and either way, I'm not interested.”
“Is she hot?” someone asked.
“Seriously, what kind of question is that?” I huffed.
“A pretty simple one, Boomer,” someone else answered. “So why won't you answer it?”
I rolled my eyes. “She's attractive, yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything. She has a great resume and a real can-do attitude.”
“Sounds like a good fit,” Ilya began, and I braced myself for the punchline that I knew was coming. “The hot nanny has a can-do attitude … and Boomer has a wants-to-do attitude!”
The room burst into laughter.
Okay, I'll admit it, I laughed too. But only because it was so absurd.
“You guys are ridiculous,” I said at last. “Now can we stop with the nanny jokes and start talking about game strategy or what?”
“Aye-aye, Captain …”