Chapter 14

chapter 14

EMMALINE

If there’s one little problem about being Jolie’s nanny, it’s seeing Bryce Wynward, hockey god, half naked. All the damn time.

I swear, he’s taunting and teasing me with his body. He’s tiptoeing on the blue line I set between us. Right now, he’s shirtless with gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, but not low enough to show his underwear. Oh geez, maybe he’s going commando.

Stop thinking about his schlong, Emmaline.

For the past two weeks, the three of us have settled into a routine. The times have varied, but we always eat at least one meal together. When Jolie is out of earshot, Bryce makes sexual innuendos, teasing me. He knows he’s irresistible, and I’m ready to give in. Seriously, I already feel like a Resistance Champion.

Jolie and I just came from the home gym, and she runs to the fridge for water while I run upstairs to change my clothes. I’m breathing hard and standing with my hands on my hips with my head falling back.

“Ahem.” My head spins to the doorway, and Bryce stands still—in his towel. “You’re good at that.”

I squish my face up. “Good at what?”

“Panting,” he says with one foot crossed at the ankles and a panty-disintegrating smile on his face.

My face turns fifty shades of red. There’s little-to-no resolve left between my legs or my heart to keep us in the friendzone. Not after I see how loving he is to his daughter, reminding me of my own dad. Everything I’ve seen of this man makes me want him more.

Right now, the way he’s looking at me is the same way he looked at me a couple of days ago when he came home from an away game, and I thought he was going to kiss me. Jolie walked in, breaking the moment, but I see the same desire in his eyes and in his heavy breathing pattern.

I let out a long sigh and lay down the gauntlet. “I don’t pant,” I quip, knowing he has personally and intimately experienced me panting.

“Really?” He twists his brow. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Yes, it does.

I playfully push on his shoulder, mainly so I can touch him. God, I want to feel his body again. “Are you trying to goad me?”

“Me?” He shrugs innocently. “I could make you pant right now.”

My breath hitches. “Don't get any ideas, Wynward.”

“I just wanted to teach you some new workout moves. Totally innocent.” He laughs and shakes his head. “And I’ll make sure there’s a lot of panting involved,” he says as he brushes my arm and adds a slow wink.

Finally, I can freaking breathe, as he pads down the hallway. Why does he twist me up in knots?

When I return downstairs, Bryce is wearing clothes—thank God. My lady parts tingle every time I see his sculpted body.

He has Jolie nestled in beside him as he reads a book to her. When he finishes, he says, “Jolie is going to Reed and Brooke’s tonight to play with their kids, so she won’t be going to the after-school program today.”

I chew on my bottom lip while I think. “That’s right; Cannon and Colby only come on Wednesdays. I’m finally remembering the kids’ names.”

“Cannon told Reed that you’re the best after-school teacher he has ever had, which doesn’t surprise me,” he praises me with his head leaning back on the couch.

“Aww, that’s sweet. I can’t believe I still haven’t met Reed’s wife.”

He scrunches one brow and twists those raspberry lips. “You met Reed’s wife eight years ago.”

“I know but things change in eight years. I mean since moving here. We’re never at the same games. I guess things get complicated when you have multiple children.”

He nods in agreement. “Do you have plans tonight? Going out on the town?” he asks.

I grin. “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a date.”

His mouth falls open. “Oh. With whom? Sorry, it’s none of my business.” Bryce clips each word.

Is he jealous?

I hope he’s jealous. Why? Because as much as I know being friends is the right thing for Jolie, my lady parts beg to differ.

“Well, if you don’t need anything else, I have to run an errand before work.”

He growls. “Have a good time.” But judging by the tone of his voice, he wants my date to be fat and balding.

“Bye, Jolie.”

Her pigtails pop over the couch, and she waves to me.

brYCE

She has a date. Where did she meet this guy? Is he a teacher at her school? Or worse, an MMA fighter.

I feel a pang of something I can't quite place. Jealousy? Anger? Disappointment? All I know is that I can't stand the thought of her with another guy. But what can I do? She drew a line that we can’t cross.

I didn't tell her about my own date and now I'm stuck thinking about whether she’ll smile and blush. Whether she’ll let him kiss her goodnight.

Brooke’s Real Life Dating app claims to have found the perfect match for me, and has set me up with someone who supposedly checks all my boxes. But let's be real, who actually wants a ready-made family? And I have a feeling that when I meet this girl, her hair won't be the natural color I specified. Not that it matters, but when I chose the hair color I wanted, the only person on my mind was Rusti, a.k.a., Emmaline.

Since I’m unable to back out of the date or fear Reed’s wrath, and my loyalty to Brooke, I read Jolie another book. I set the house alarm so I can go upstairs and put on a pair of dress pants and a dress shirt. Maybe this is what I need—a date to take my mind off what I can’t have.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I haven’t found another woman for the past eight years who has taken my mind off of the spunky, rambling, beautiful Emmaline.

Maybe it's not too late to cancel my date and ask Emmaline to cancel hers. Or maybe it's just too damn late.

EMMALINE

Although I detested signing up for a dating app, I admit that I’m excited. Even if it is only to get the tall, blond, and handsome man out of my mind for a minute. It’s time for my next adventure in life. Moving to Atlanta hasn’t been that much of a culture shock. Atlanta is a vibrant city that rivals Los Angeles’ cuisine.

My blind date and I agreed to meet at a casual restaurant called Par-Tee Putt & Grub. I might be a little overdressed, but I wanted to feel confident on my first date in over a year. It’s an off-the-shoulder dress with long sleeves and an A-line that flares over my hips.

I carry my clutch and ask the hostess if anyone is waiting for a blind date.

“No one has told me, but do you have reservations?”

“Umm. I don’t know his name.” I let out an apologetic laugh. “Online dating. ”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone does it. I mean who has time to get to know someone any other way?”

“I’ll just go in. If someone arrives asking, will you guide them my way?” Hopefully, my date doesn’t take one look at me and run.

I find a table where you can see the televisions showing the hockey games and order a drink. I’m a little early, and I keep checking my phone, but time seems to stand still. Finally, it’s seven twenty-nine, and he should be here any minute, so I wait to order another drink, but I do stand up and take my empty glass to the bar.

First impressions are everything.

I look up and who do I see? Bryce Wynward. What the hell is he doing here? A few people stop him and ask him for autographs, and he obliges. I should hide. I scope out the exits, and there’s only one way out from here—through the Georgia Jets gorgeous hockey player.

He takes a few more strides, searching for someone, and his eyes land on me. I quickly look down at the cocktail menu, hoping I’m wrong.

All two-hundred sculpted pounds of deliciousness stops in front of my table. Fuck. Fuck.

“Emmaline. Where’s your date?”

“Waiting on him.”

His blue eyes dance with mischief. “The right man wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

“Do you have a tracking device on my phone?” I ask as my eyes narrow.

“You’re not the only one who can date. May I join you until our dates get here? ”

“Sure.” I put my hand out to have a seat. “I can’t imagine a woman being late for a date with you.”

He chuckles. “My date doesn’t know who I am. Reed and Brooke roped me into signing up for her dating app to beta test.”

“Yeah, Reed made my brother sign up, and Roman made me sign up too. That would have been weird if the app matched me with my brother,” I cackle and cover my mouth with my hand.

Bryce smiles and pulls out his phone. “Did you put in the same characteristics as your brother for what you’re looking for in a man?”

Mulling his question over, I say, “Well, some things my brother and I share. Like we both want a family. I put that I wanted someone bigger than me. I cannot date a man if I weigh more than him.”

“Do you mind if I check my phone to see if my date is canceled?” he asks, ignoring my self-deprecating comment.

“No.”

“Is your screen name JuJi_red?”

Oh my God, is Bryce my date? Did it pair us? I almost choke on one simple word. “Yes.”

“Umm, it seems as if we are a match. But we already knew that… didn’t we?” he asks with a small lift of his eyebrow.

“Are you familyman9?”

Of course, he’s now a family man, and the number nine is his jersey number. How did I not put two and two together to get nine and Bryce Wynward?

“In the flesh,” he says, releasing a shadow of a smile.

I’ve seen that flesh. All of it.

And he keeps reminding me of his massive chest and those arms that can hold a woman up while he’s pleasing her.

Letting out a playful huff, I say, “We must be the only two people in Atlanta on this damn app other than my brother.”

“Ouch. I don’t think a woman has ever been disappointed to go on a date with me.” He chuckles, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting… you.”

He scoffs, “What, am I not good enough to be your date?”

I giggle with a smirk and a hidden smile. “You dad bod is okay.”

“Dad bod?” With amusement in his eyes, he hums, “Well, you’re just lucky that I’m the most eligible bachelor in all of Atlanta.”

I playfully roll my eyes again. “Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to sweep you off your feet tonight,” he claims with a slow strolling chuckle.