Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Although even before I pulled into the drive, I somehow already knew this time would be better.
Chloe had kept in constant contact with me, texting me updates from the moment I left the house for my flight to Boston. She informed me by the hour what Ava was doing, sent photos of them working on crafts, and even called me so I could talk to Ava before the game.
She was a fucking godsend.
The fact that she was so quick to step in and help me when Uncle Mitch had to bail told me how much she already cared about Ava. And I didn’t have to watch my daughter long to see that she felt comfortable with Chloe, too.
That made my chest pinch, because I had no idea if this was going to continue working, or if I’d have to start all over in nanny-search hell.
Chloe had been sweet to step in this week, but she had a full-time job already. And as much as she insisted it was fine, I couldn’t expect her to teach all day and take care of Ava in-between. Sometimes I needed her in the mornings, sometimes in the afternoons, sometimes at night, and many times — all three.
The girl was in her mid-twenties, if I had to guess, and was fine as hell.
There was no way she didn’t have something better to do with her time.
There was no way she didn’t want to go out with her friends, or be taken out on dates.
I couldn’t explain why that last thought made me grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my jaw tight as I turned onto our street. The rain was still coming down steadily, the streetlights blurred above.
And through that rainy haze, I could see Chloe all too clearly.
I could see the home-sewn outfits she wore, the way they always seemed custom fitted to highlight every soft, round part of her. I could see her warm brown eyes, her smile that was bright enough to knock the breath out of me every time she shot it my way. I could see the way her cheeks flushed the prettiest pink when she didn’t think I noticed, the way she’d pin her juicy bottom lip between her teeth out of nervous habit, how her hands would play with that silky red hair of hers.
Every time I watched her fidget, I wanted to give her something better to do with her hands.
And the way she looked at me, I could tell she had a crush, too.
Both of which were a big fucking problem.
Still, she had been nothing but professional. I knew I could contain my urges. If it meant having her taking care of Ava, I’d happily fuck my hand every night to get out the tension coiled in my muscles. Hell, I’d even suffer through a night at Boomer’s, the local club where the puck bunnies hung out, if it meant I managed to control my desire for Chloe.
I didn’t know if she could do the same.
But she hadn’t given me reason not to trust her — not yet. She hadn’t made any inappropriate comments or advances. She’d kept her hands to herself. She didn’t seem like she had any ulterior motive.
I wondered if there would always be this part of me that would be suspicious of every woman I came into contact with, if the parade of puck-chasing nannies I’d dealt with had fucked me up permanently.
It was nearly two in the morning when I finally pulled into my driveway, and the fatigue I’d been fighting felt like a hundred-pound weight on my shoulders as I climbed out of my Bentley. I entered the door code and tiptoed inside, doing my best not to wake anyone.
The first thing I noticed was that the house was spotless.
Ava’s toys weren’t strung from one end to the other, the way they had been more times than I could count. And, judging by the silence that met my ears, she was asleep — unlike the times when various nannies had thought they’d win my heart over by greeting me after an away game with Ava in their arms when I walked through the door.
I left my bag by the door, content to deal with it in the morning, and almost smiled when I took a few steps inside the foyer and saw the banner hanging across the staircase railing. It was bright yellow with blue and green paint that spelled out Welcome home, Daddy! There were handprints of different sizes all over it — enough variation that I knew Chef Patel had likely been dragged into this craft against her will — and little stick drawings of a goalie and an Osprey.
I sighed, but not because I was annoyed.
Because I was relieved.
Making my way to the kitchen, I poured myself a tall glass of cold milk, chugging half of it before I stood there in a daze. The full weight of exhaustion from the week was settling over me, and I couldn’t wait to get a good night’s rest and have a day off. I wished it was a day off for Ava, too, but I’d make the most of the time I had with her before and after school.