Page 11 of Penalty Kill

“Sydney, do you have a jersey?” Milo asked.

“No, I don’t.” I still wasn’t positive about what sport or team we were going to be watching, but I did know that there wasn’t a single jersey or sports themed shirt in my possession.

“You have an extra one, right?” Finn looked to his dad.

Brandon nodded. “I’ll make sure she has one.”

“You have to wear Daddy’s number with us, so people know who we’re cheering for,” Milo said as he bounced in his seat.

My head spun as all the pieces fell into place. Brandon was wealthy, had a crazy schedule, went to practice every day, worked at the arena. He was a center, on offense.

I stared at him while he washed off the boys’ now empty plates.

The hockey stuff in the office. It was his. Like his.

I was a nanny for a professional athlete. For a player in the NHL. “Oh.”

Brandon eyed me. “Oh, what?”

I wasn’t normally easily impressed by money or fame. When I lived in LA and ran into a singer or actor, I didn’t care much.

This was different. I admired athletes. Probably because sports were the only thing my dad got excited about, and if I wanted anything to talk about with him it was usually related to who was looking good this year or what team should make it to playoffs. I didn’t know very much about hockey, Dad’s more of a baseball guy, but I learned enough to know that if they made it to the professional level, they had dedicated their entire lives to one thing. They pushed their bodies to the limit. They left it all on the line. They were focused and driven. They were everything I wasn’t.

“I didn’t realize you were a hockey player.”

It shouldn’t have changed anything, knowing who he was, but it did. I respected him. I was proud of him, and I hadn’t even seen him play yet. I pulled myself together before he noticed I was fangirling over him.

His smile wavered. “Chloe and Emma didn’t mention that?”

I shook my head. “It never came up.”

This didn’t change anything. I was still watching over Milo and Finn, living in the pool house, and Brandon was my boss. He chose me. He interviewed me and decided I was good enough. That was what mattered. He trusted me to care for his boys. It was the highest compliment anyone could give me. I had to work hard and do everything in my power to show him I was worthy of his trust. What he did for a living didn’t matter.

I suddenly noticed how tight his shirt was around his biceps as he crossed his arms across his wide chest. Had his shoulders been that thick and broad yesterday at the park? How did I miss that?

Because I wasn’t checking out my potential boss. Like I definitely was now.

Of course, his job, and especially his body, shouldn’t change my view of him. I couldn’t get all flustered now. I most definitely couldn’t find my boss attractive. That was the very last thing I needed.

“Huh.” He smirked. “I guess I should have mentioned that sooner. I just assume people know.”

I shrugged. Admitting I didn’t watch hockey didn’t seem like the right thing to tell a professional player.

“I’m a centerman for the Utah Fury.”

“I put that together,” I said with my own smirk which made him laugh. It was a lovely sound. I couldn’t help but notice the way he relaxed and how his shoulders bounced. He wasn’t the uptight businessman I expected. Nope, this was much worse.

He was off-limits. I needed this job too much to get distracted. Heaven knows I’d somehow made it awkward, and I needed to survive fourteen months. Plus, it wasn’t like he would ever see me like that. He was a freaking hockey player. I was a transient cursed with a wanderlust so strong I couldn’t stay put for longer than a few months. He was at the peak of his career and my resume was full of minimum wage jobs. I’d never cared, until now. I was proud of not being tied down, free to go where my heart took me.

It was hard not to compare myself to women like Chloe and Emma. They seemed so happy, established, mature.

“So I noticed you move around a lot.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “I like to travel and see new places.”

“I bet you have some good stories.”

“A few.”