Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

QUINN

He offered me a job!

There I was, about to go beg for one, then he offered it to me. I won't lie—I panicked for a moment because it all became too real. I don't know if I'm cut out for this. It's going to be a lot of work. 24-7 kind of thing.

But then I thought about how much fun I was having just talking to the kid and how easy it seemed. Sure, I'm not going to like working for her uncle one bit, but I like her, and that just might be enough.

I pass George's, sending him a wave as I walk by the corner store on the way to the address Hayes sent me. I laugh at the double take the old man does seeing me out and about this early. I check my phone to ensure I'm still headed the right way, then scroll through the messages Hayes sent me last night for the millionth time. They were so direct. Straight to the point, all business. I'm unsure if I was unnerved by that or just the thought of nannying in general, maybe a bit of both.

About half a mile up the road, I turn into a neighborhood I've never been in and am surprised to find it all looks so… normal . Like something out of one of those Hallmark movies I secretly love to watch. I don't know why, but I pictured him somewhere more remote, a gated community and his house being watched by men in fancy black suits with earpieces. Maybe a little rain cloud perpetually hanging over his house, something with sharp edges and dark shutters and no front lawn.

I did not expect white picket fences and sprawling yards.

I stop at the end of a driveway where the mailbox matches the number he sent me and stare up at the expansive home in front of me. It's unlike any other house on this street, and I don't mean its structure or color—those are all in line with the rest of them.

No. It's the lack of any curb appeal or sign of life aside from the fancy SUV sitting in the driveway instead of tucked safely inside the two-car garage.

But someone does live here—Hayes. And Flora, too.

Flora, who I can't wait to see again. I had fun with her yesterday in the few minutes I watched her while Hayes stepped outside. She told me about the book she's been reading, something about a group of middle school kids whose teachers are supernatural creatures and get into all kinds of trouble. I made some ridiculous and completely unfunny joke about spiking her uncle's coffee with garlic to find out if he was a vampire, and she laughed. I didn't realize at the time how rare it was, or I would have soaked it up more. Maybe I can make her laugh again today so I can appreciate it this time around.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out one of the butterscotch candies I always keep tucked in there, and toss it into my mouth before pushing my shoulders back.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter as I march up the short driveway, climb the three stairs that lead to the front door, and press the doorbell. The chime rings through the house, but that's the only sound. It's quiet. Almost too quiet, like nobody is home.

I wait a minute. Then two. Still, nobody answers the door.

I knock and wait again. Nothing.

I pull my phone from my pocket, checking to make sure I have the right house, even though I'm ninety-nine percent sure I do.

"Yep. This is it," I mutter to myself, then hit the doorbell again for good measure. "So where the hell is everyone?"

"You know, when someone doesn't answer, that usually means they aren't home."

I whirl around, my heart thundering in my chest. Hayes and Flora are standing at the end of the stairs. His eyes are narrowed, and hers are full of excitement.

"Hayes."

His gaze sharpens even more. "Quinn."

There's apprehension in his tone, and maybe even a little surprise like he didn't expect me to show up on time today.

What is it with everyone always doubting me?

Flora holds up a lilac bag, one I'm very familiar with, as they walk up the steps, her bright pink rain boots clomping against the wood. "We got you a donut."

I remember my mother's comment about how they're in her bakery almost daily. Even I don't eat out that much, and I'm a terrible cook.

"You did?"

She nods frantically as Hayes punches in the passcode for the door, balancing a tray filled with three drinks in the other hand. "Uncle Adam said we should play it safe and get you a glazed donut, but I told him you needed something with sprinkles."

I smile, dropping into a squat to match her height. " Well, you'll be happy to know you were right. I happen to love sprinkles. Want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because sprinkles make everything better." I boop the end of her nose, and she giggles. It's not the same laugh she gave me yesterday, but it's just as adorable.

I push back up to standing and find Hayes watching us, his brows cinched together, lips downturned.

"What?" I ask, worried I did something wrong.

He shakes his head, then pushes the door open wide. "Come on in."

Flora breezes past him, and I follow behind her, squeezing past Hayes's big frame the best I can without making contact. It's futile though. He takes up too much of the doorway, and my chest brushes against his. He stiffens, scooting back until the door bounces off the wall with a loud thud to avoid more touching.

I trade worrying about his odd behavior for letting my eyes roam around the house. It's…well, it's empty. Almost like a museum. There's a couch, a coffee table, and an entirely too big TV that takes up half a wall, but that's really it. There are no throw pillows on the sofa or pictures on the walls. There's not even a rug to help soften some of the echo.

I notice Flora's boots by the door, so I take off my yellow ones, smiling at how ridiculous our bright shoes look next to Hayes's dark ones.

"Hey, how about we eat in the kitchen today?" Hayes says to his niece as she begins unrolling the bag of donuts at the coffee table.

"Oh. Okay." Flora hangs her head like she's in trouble, and my heart aches for the kid.

"Just so we have more space," Hayes explains with a smile.

Her little shoulders relax a bit as she pads softly into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table that still has a tag hanging off it. I follow behind Hayes, sliding onto a chair while he heads for the cabinet and pulls out a few plates. I smirk when I see they're still sporting their tags as well. Flora divvies up the goods—chocolate with sprinkles for her, a bagel for her uncle, and a vanilla twist with sprinkles for me.

"How'd you know this is my favorite?" I ask her.

She grins proudly. "Mrs. Bess told us." She looks to her uncle. "Can I have my chocolate milk in a mug like yesterday?"

I don't know why it makes me smile, but it does. I knew she'd like that little touch, making her feel like an adult instead of a kid sipping from her milk carton.

"Of course you can." Hayes pushes away from the table and looks back at me. "I assume since you were drinking mine yesterday, you take your coffee black? "

I smirk. "Black is fine."

He grabs a mug and pours Flora's chocolate milk into it, and we dig into our breakfast. Flora keeps looking at my donut with curiosity, so I pluck a chunk off the end I haven't eaten from and settle it onto her plate. She picks it up, examining it briefly before taking the world's tiniest bite. Her bright blue eyes widen with surprise, and she nods, shoving the rest of the piece into her mouth in one go. It's so silly because it's a simple donut, but I love how much she loves it.

I peek over at Hayes. He's watching her too, just as enraptured by her as I am, his bagel still untouched on his plate. As if he can feel my stare, he slides his gaze my way, and I pause mid-bite.

He looks tired. His eyes are heavy with fatigue and dark circles sit under them. His hair is a mess like he didn't even bother trying to tame it before leaving the house, and his beard is in need of a good trim. His shoulders are hunched forward, and he certainly looks like he's seen better days.

I can see why my mother was so insistent I help him. He's clearly not getting enough sleep or eating well. Not that I really have any room to talk about either of those things, but still. I just have me to take care of, not an adorable kid.

"I like your earrings. "

I swing my head over to Flora, touching the silly thing that dangles from my right ear. "You do?"

She nods. "Is that a Nemo fish?"

"It is!" I push it out toward her. "It's a clown fish, and he's trapped inside a plastic bag like in the movie."

She twists her lips. "I hate that part."

"Me too. But that's the whole point of the movie—to show you that you're brave enough to overcome anything just like Nemo did."

She grins, then digs back into her donut. I glance over at Hayes, who is no longer looking at Flora but at me. His head is tipped to the side like he's studying me and is unsure about what he sees.

I shift in my seat under his scrutiny. "What?"

"Nothing."

He shakes his head once, then finally picks up his own breakfast, eating nearly half the bagel he's smashed together like a sandwich in one bite. Who the hell eats a bagel like that?

"What now?" he asks when he realizes I'm still watching him.

"It's just… Why are you eating it like you're diving into a turkey club instead of, I don't know, like a bagel?"

"What? Eat each slice on its own?"

"I mean, is that not the correct way to eat a bagel?" I look to Flora to back me up, and she nods. "See? Even the little flower here agrees."

He looks at his niece. "You're taking her side instead of mine?"

She shrugs. "It's weird."

"It's not weird. It's efficient."

"It's weird," Flora insists.

He sighs, setting his bagel down and pulling it apart like a normal human would. He takes an exaggerated bite. "Better?" he asks through a mouthful of food.

Then Flora does it again—she laughs. It's such a beautiful sound, I don't know how I missed it before. Hayes watches her with a grin on his face, and when he sees me looking, he tries to hide behind his to-go coffee. It's no use. I saw it.

We finish our breakfast in silence, but there's an obvious shift in the room. The tension has dissipated, Hayes looking more alert, and I think it has very little to do with my mother's delicious coffee.

I rise from the table, collecting our plates, but when I reach for Hayes's, he tries to stop me. I narrow my eyes at him and snatch it away anyway. I rinse them and then put them in the dishwasher, noting the plastic covering still clinging to the outside.

Man, they really don't use this kitchen much, do they ?

"May I go read my book?" Flora asks softly.

When I was her age, I was looking to do absolutely anything other than read, especially if I had a bonus day off from school. But not Flora, and somehow, I feel it makes perfect sense for her.

"Of course. Just remember what we talked about."

"Turn the light on so I'm not squinting?"

"Yes, that."

"Yes, Uncle Adam," she says.

She rushes off toward her bedroom, leaving just a crack in the door, then flicks on her light.

"She reads in the dark?"

Hayes sighs, rising from his chair. "My brother, Aiden, was a fucking moron and would make her always keep her lights off so she wouldn't disturb him. I caught her reading in there one night with the book pressed against her nose."

"That's…"

"The stupidest thing ever? I know." He shakes his head with disgust. "But that's Aiden for you. Stupid to his core."

There's no missing the contempt in his voice, and I want so badly to ask more, but I have a feeling he'd tell me it's none of my business, and he'd be right.

Hayes finishes his coffee, then drops the cup in the trash before opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He shakes it at me, but I decline .

"I can't stand the taste of plain water. I need flavor, or I'm not drinking it."

"How do you stay hydrated?"

I lift my coffee. "Go-fast juice."

"That's unhealthy."

"Says the guy feeding the seven-year-old donuts every morning."

He makes a noise, and it's the closest he's come to a laugh yet. "I'm not very skilled in the kitchen either. Guess we're alike in that department."

"Is that going to be a requirement for the job?"

"I've gotten by without it, so I guess not. Besides, she's not that hard to feed. She likes the basics like chicken nuggets and grilled cheese—that sort of stuff."

"I could handle that. Speaking of the job…we haven't really covered what all it entails."

"Keep her alive."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" I roll my eyes. "I know that part. I mean, what are her school hours like? Is she allergic to anything? Do you have a schedule for her? What time does she go to bed? What are my hours? What's my salary like?"

He tips his head to the side. "You're asking questions like you're so sure you got the job."

I stand up straighter, ready to fight for it, and he laughs disdainfully.

"Relax. Assuming she's alive tonight…" He gives me a look that says She fucking better be. I hold up my hand, letting him know I got his message loud and clear. "…then you're hired. Flora clearly loves you, and that's a win in my book."

"And you?"

"Do I love you? Moving kind of fast, aren't you, Quinny ?"

I narrow my eyes at the nickname. "I meant how do you feel about me working for you?"

He stares at me, his grayish-white gaze burning into me. I sip my coffee, praying he doesn't notice my hands shaking under his stare.

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" is his answer.

He brings his water to his lips, chugging back half the bottle in one go, and I pretend I don't pay any attention to how his throat bobs as he takes the long pull.

When he's finished, he drags the back of his hand over his lips. "Hundred thousand."

My breath catches in my throat because there is no way he just said what I think he did. "Excuse me?"

"You asked about your salary, right? A hundred thousand for the season."

A hundred thousand? That's… That's… I don't even have the words. I could get my car fixed and I mean really fixed. I could pay my credit cards off. I could buy groceries. And shoes. Oh my gosh, so many shoes !

"Plus room and board, obviously," he says.

Wait. Room and board? Is he saying…

"I'll be living here?"

"Well, yeah. I'm going to be on the road a lot."

Shit. I hadn't thought of that, but now that he says it, it would make the most sense if I lived here instead of trekking back and forth. Which means I'm going to be living with Adam Hayes. I know he'll be gone a lot, but what about when he's not gone? Then what? We just…live together? I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

"Besides, aren't you struggling to pay your rent anyway? Solves that issue."

Oh. Right. I almost forgot about that part.

"I guess it does make sense," I agree. "When…When would all this happen?"

"Well, I could give you half the money up front."

I do my best not to let my jaw hit the floor. Half? That's fifty grand for doing nothing!

"But as far as you moving in," he continues, "it would need to be sooner rather than later with our upcoming preseason games and prepping for the regular season. I know that's probably not ideal, but…"

I nod. "I get the schedule. Brother is a hockey player, remember?"

Man, Brody will have a shit fit when I tell him I'm living with Hayes. But that's a problem for future me .

"I can do soon," I tell him. "That shouldn't be a problem."

And it will save me from dealing with my cranky landlord. I can hand him the money I owe him, then promise to never, ever darken his doorstep again. He'll be so happy he'll probably cry.

"And the living-with-me part?" Hayes asks, those light eyes of his boring right through me. "That won't be a problem either?"

"You wouldn't be my first roommate."

"No, but I bet I'd be your first male roommate."

He's right. While I've had plenty of roomies over the years, they've all been girls who are like me. Not big, tall men who play professional hockey and are undoubtedly hiding a set of rippling abs under their shirts that are just a bit too tight and toned muscles in their jean-clad legs. I've definitely never had a roommate like that.

He grins wickedly. "Yeah, thought so. I'll let you simmer on that while I'm gone."

"You're leaving?"

He lifts his brows. "Uh, yeah, that's sort of the whole point of the trial run, isn't it? See if you can make it through the day?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that's true."

I nibble on my bottom lip, the nerves I've been repressing beginning to rear their heads. I'm going to be all on my own, taking care of a seven-year-old I barely know. I can do this…right?

"I have a team meeting around ten, then I'm heading to the rink to get some skating in before hitting the gym." Hayes pushes off the counter and tosses his empty water bottle into the recycling bin next to the trash. "You have my number, so call if there are any problems. I'll make sure to keep my ringer on. I'll be back later this afternoon."

I nod. "Sounds good."

"Does it? You don't seem sure, and I need you to be sure. Flora is…" He looks down the hall to where her door is still slightly ajar. "Well, I want the best for her. So if you think this won't work, I need to know now, not later, so I can figure something else out."

I understand where he's coming from. I do. I want the best for Flora too, and I think— I hope —I can do this.

I push my shoulders back, determined to make this work, and nod. "I'm sure." And there's only a slight waver to my voice when I say it.

"And, Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"Think about what I said."

He doesn't have to elaborate. He doesn't need to. I know he means our living arrangement.

Could I live with the ridiculously hot hockey player? Sure. Am I going to have to remind myself he's my boss and to keep my hands to myself? Probably every damn day. But am I sure I can do this, especially if it means I can pay my bills and not be worried every time I leave the house that I'm going to come back to a padlock on my door? Possibly. I'm just going to have to remind myself of that rule every kid is taught when they're little—I can look, but I can't touch.

Even if I really, really want to touch.