Page 45 of The Nanny Game Plan
I snort-laugh so loud, I’m instantly embarrassed, but I also can’t stop laughing. “What are you talking about, girlfriend?” I turn to Ava as Dean steps back, shaking my head as we all continue to giggle. “Earthworms cannotgive you rabies. How do you even know about rabies, anyway?”
Ava laughs harder, seeming pleased with herself. “I know a lot about animals.”
“She does,” Dean confirms, setting both girls down. “She’s the one who told me that octopus blood is blue.”
“Wow, that’s cool. I love octopi,” I say, shivering. Now that the immediate threat of emotional collapse has passed, I’m becoming aware of how cold I am again. “I should probably change into some dry clothes beforeIturn blue.” I meet Dean’s gaze, forcing myself to ignore the jolt of connection that passes between us. “Is it okay if I run over to the apartment and grab a fast shower? I was going to just change into fresh clothes, but if you’re home for twenty minutes, I can?—”
“Go. Shower. And take your time,” Dean says, waving toward the garage with a smile. “I’m home for the day. I thought I’d come home early and make the girls strawberry smoothies for snack.”
“Yay smoothies!” both girls cheer before Bella demands seriously, “But no banana in mine, Daddy. I’m still mad at bananas from yesterday.”
Dean nods before reaching down to ruffle her silky hair. “Got it. But why don’t you guys go play with toys for a little while first, and we’ll hold smoothies until four, okay? Give Clover achance to shower and clean up so she can join us?” He glances back at me. “You will join us, right? I bought enough berries for everyone.”
I bite my lip, torn between how much I want to join them and how much I want to run and hide under the covers until I sort through all my feelings.
So many feelings. So many totally inappropriate feelings…
But finally, I nod and say, “Sure. I’ll clean up and be right back.”
“Great. Then we’ll see you soon.” He smiles, warmly, kindly, not at all sexily.
But I still tingle all the way through my shower…
Twelve
DEAN
Eleven Days Later…
My lungs are on fire,but it’s the crunch in my shoulder that’s really doing me in. I’m thirty-five, a classic car so old you can’t buy parts for it anymore in hockey years, and Shep—Chicago’s favorite two-hundred-and-fifty-pound rookie—is currently grinding every one of my ancient gears.
I swear, I can feel his elbow digging into my spine, even through my chest protector.
“Fuck off, you little shit,” I growl.
“You know you love me, old fart,” he says, laughing as he presses even closer. “Give it up, and I’ll go away, I promise.”
Regretting every second I spent teaching this kid offensive strategy at that camp at his high school nearly a decade ago, I shout, “Little help!”
“Kate, over here,” Nix calls, his voice jagged over the roar of the crowd.
I don’t look his way.
I can’t. Shepherd is too damned close.
I can’t see anything but the curve of his beefy cheek as he promises, “It’ll all be over soon, brother. Just give me what I came for.”
I don’t, of course. The day I go down without a fight is the day I quit the NHL, and I’m not ready for that yet. Not yet. This old dog still has fight in him and a few tricks up his jersey sleeve.
As Nix calls my name again, I shoot blind toward the sound of his voice.
Almost immediately, Shep darts away, giving me a clear view as my shot hits Nix’s stick tape. A beat later, he passes it to Grammercy, who drives it up the ice and—cling. The puck hits the back of the net a split second before the time runs out.
The horn shrieks—a raw, beautiful wail that still makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery, even after all these years—and I thrust my arms into the air with a roar of victory.
Yes! Hell yes!
God, I needed that.
