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)
“Oh, I want to call her ex nanny many things,” I grumbled.
Chloe smiled. “I’m happy to take her to my place, or to yours — whichever you’d prefer.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Really? I’m sure you have plans.”
She snorted at that — like actually snorted. “Trust me — I have nothing better to do.”
I grabbed the back of my neck, looking at the time on my watch before I glanced behind us at where practice was in full swing. I knew if I needed to leave, Coach McCabe would understand. It was rare for me to ask for anything, and I was a leader on the team.
But I didn’t want to leave. We had a big home game tomorrow night against a team fighting us for a spot in the playoffs, and I needed the ice time.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind… just this one time,” I clarified quickly. “And I’ll pay you.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll pay you,” I reiterated.
Chloe offered a soft smile, her fingers twiddling with her skirt. “Yes, sir.”
My nostrils flared at that, for a reason that was entirely inappropriate, and I mentally slapped myself before turning my attention toward Ava.
“You’re going to go spend the afternoon with Miss Knott, okay?” I said, lifting her into my arms so I could look her in the eye. “And I’ll pick you up after work.”
“Can’t I stay here?”
She didn’t whine those words. In fact, she said them as if she didn’t actually care what I responded with. Her lips were turned down, her eyes seemingly bored.
She had my feigned indifference down pat.
I hated that I’d rubbed off on her.
“Not today, Pumpkin,” I said, kissing her temple. I sat her down then, squeezing her hand. “But if you behave, we can talk about you coming to the game tomorrow.”
She considered that, and then nodded, but still didn’t show any emotion when she said, “Okay.”
Chloe arched a brow at Ava, then at me, and shook her head on a soft smile. “Don’t worry about picking her up,” she said. “I’ll bring her home around six?”
“That would be perfect.”
I wondered if she heard the relieved exhale leaving my chest. I’d seen her in action at the school, knew about her outstanding reputation as a teacher and a babysitter, and remembered all too well how she’d helped my daughter find confidence to speak in the first semester of tutoring. The way Ava was too shy and uncomfortable to speak those first few weeks of kindergarten was something I hadn’t been equipped to deal with, but Chloe had found the solution easily.
Knowing Ava was with her meant I could focus on practice.
Of course, I still had rage for my former employee simmering under my skin — but I’d deal with that later.
“Maybe you could have dinner with us,” Ava said, and she did so on a shrug that indicated she didn’t care either way. “Chef Patel always makes too much food for just me and Daddy.”
I tried to give my daughter a warning glare that would tell her not to put me on the fucking spot like that, because as much as I was thankful for her teacher stepping in to help, I wasn’t eager to have anyone joining us for dinner.
Chloe peeked up at me, and for a moment, I thought she looked pleased by that idea. But the second she saw my face, her smile dropped.
She cleared her throat. “Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. You and—”
“You’re more than welcome,” I cut in. I hoped the words didn’t sound as forced as they felt, that she didn’t notice how much my teeth gritted together when I said them.
At that, Chloe tilted her head a bit, as if she could read right through the lie.
Then, she smiled. “Okay, then. Dinner it is.”
I blinked.
I hadn’t expected her to take that offer seriously.
I certainly hadn’t expected her to accept it.
And something about her satisfied smile as she took Ava’s hand and led her through the tunnel told me she knew it, too.
The Furthest Thing From Cool
Chloe
“Your house is like the circus Daddy took me to,” Ava said, standing just inside the front door of my small home with her Tampa Bay Ospreys backpack still strapped to her shoulders.
She didn’t seem particularly excited about the observation.
Then again, this kid was rarely excited about anything.
Her curly hair — which was almost as long as her father’s — had completely fallen out of her hair tie at this point, and she swept it out of her eyes as she looked around at the organized clutter.
I couldn’t fault her for her assessment. Between my current knitting project, my half-sewn skirt I was working on, the paint-by-numbers craft I’d started and then abandoned after three glasses of wine, and the array of colorful cat toys strewn throughout the house — it kind of did look like a circus.