Page 32 of Hockey Nanny

By the time my pulse evened out, the air had cooled further, making me shiver despite the heat from the hot tub and the man pressed against me. Neither of us wanted to move immediately, though, both too comfortable where we were.

Eventually, Boone stirred, glancing toward the soft white towels folded neatly on a nearby lounger. “As much as I’m enjoying our soak, I think the night air is plotting its revenge.”

My smile was tired, but amused. “Time to go back?”

He didn’t answer. Or rather, he didn’t answer with words.

All he did was rise smoothly from the hot tub with me in his arms, water washing from our bodies. I curled into him reflexively, searching for his heat to cocoon me as he carried me over to the lounger. My only complaint was when he set me on my feet long enough to wrap me in one of the towels, ignoring his own cold.

“Thank you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said softly, rubbing warmth back into my shoulders.

I couldn’t help looking at him, completely, shamelessly naked, dripping water onto the wooden deck, and looking like he couldn’t care less. His hair was a wreck, there were faint scratches on his skin from my nails that I didn’t quite remember making. My eyes drifted toward the hot tub where our clothes still floated, occasionally battered by the jets.

I huffed a laugh.

“What?” he asked, amusement edging his tone.

“You’re a mess.”

He followed my gaze toward the tub, then down at himself before giving me a crooked smile that made my heart flip. “Yeah, well, I make it look good.”

“That you do.”

Wrapping a towel around his hips, he settled on the lounger and gave my hand a gentle tug so I’d join him.

“Shouldn’t we head back in?” My refusal was half-hearted at best. “Dawson and Gage are probably back by now.”

“I don’t want to cuddle with Dawson and Gage, though.” He gave another tug.

This time I gave in, and sank onto the lounger with him, nuzzling close. I rested my head against his shoulder, still slick with heat and water, letting the quiet stretch between us feel like its own kind of satisfaction.

13

~

Carissa

The carpet was cool under my bare feet as I slipped inside, Boone’s T-shirt hanging to mid-thigh beneath my robe. It still held his heat. That felt dangerous in a way I didn’t want to unpack yet.

I kept my steps careful, the hallway quiet at this hour, my key card already pinched between my fingers. Elevator. Bed. Sleep. That was the plan. A clean line back to something that resembled good judgment.

I reached the call button and stopped short. Raised voices filtered into the hall, and I instantly recognized the loudest one.

Gage.

“You don’t get to decide this kind of thing when it involves all of us.” His anger cut through the stillness of the quiet drawing room next to the elevators.

I instinctively pulled back my finger, and the doors stayed closed. My pulse ticked higher, part nerves, part the leftover energy Boone had lit and hadn’t put out.

Another voice answered, lower, steadier. Dawson. “You sound surprised that I didn’t turn my back on a little kid, when you should know better.”

“Quit spewing bullshit and just own up to it already. You were wrong. Admit it.”

I shifted closer to the edge of the hallway, staying out of sight as I pulled my robe tighter. Boone had asked me to stay. I’d said no with a smile that felt thinner than I liked. Professionalism. Boundaries. Words I clung to because they gave me something solid to hold.

Gage kept going. “Your actions have consequences, Dawson, and not just for us. We’re adults; we can deal with shit when it goes south. But Henry?”