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Penalty Play

Page 12

by Jami Davenport


  Now Vi knew how Amelia felt when she’d been coerced by Brick with a lucrative offer to be his live-in nanny and nighttime sex toy. Tempted and resistant at the same time. What was it with these single fathers and their need to rope women into being their nannies and their sex partners?

  Were good nannies really that hard to find?

  Vi would be a shitty nanny. Hell, she wasn’t exactly known for being responsible or being good with kids. In fact, she was clueless about kids. She cussed too much. She ate tofu and bean curd, nothing most kids, especially boys, would eat. She hated cooking. Didn’t watch TV. And she had a cat. She thought she had him with the cat, but after he absorbed that shocker, he’d blinked a few times and invited Luther the cat to live with them.

  She only had to do this for one road trip, the one that started today and ended early Friday morning. The kids were in school all day, which limited her exposure to a few hours in the evening. She could handle that. She’d invite Amelia and Macy over the first evening to watch the game. Amelia loved the boys. Vi could avoid being alone with them. It’d be a breeze. She’d earn enough money to pay for a new car. Her stripper income covered her basic expenses, books, tuition, and not much else.

  Vi sat in the coffee shop with Amelia and told her tale of woe. Amelia nodded as she listened to Vi’s story. She didn’t say much, and Vi wondered what she was thinking.

  “And he wants me to be the road-trip nanny. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous? I don’t even like kids. I finally agreed to do it for one road trip to the tune of two thousand dollars. Can you believe what he’s paying me?”

  Amelia took a sip of her coffee.

  “You should’ve seen the look on his face when I told him wherever I went, Luther goes.”

  Amelia smiled.

  “You’re not saying much. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking he’s taking a page out of Brick’s book just to keep you close.”

  “He is not. He’s a man. He doesn’t want the hassle of hiring a nanny for one month, so he takes the easy way out.”

  “You’re not the easy way out, Vi. If you were, he wouldn’t be paying you too much money and allowing your cat to live in the house.”

  Vi considered Amelia’s words. “Then what is he up to? We’re done in a month. His rules, and I’m good with them.”

  “Are you? Really?”

  “Of course. I was getting tired of doing the same guy anyway. Time to move on.”

  Amelia raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance.

  “I am.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re getting attached, and so is he.”

  “We’re too different.”

  “Why don’t you concentrate on your similarities rather than your differences?”

  “We’re about as similar as a predator and its prey.”

  “They both have four legs and fur, and are striving to survive.”

  Amelia was starting to piss her off. She had that same I-know-something-you-don’t look on her face that Vi’s Classic Arts professor had when he waxed poetic about real art.

  “And one kills the other,” Vi countered.

  Amelia laughed. “The question is, which one of you is the predator and which one is the prey?”

  “Ammie, you’re starting to annoy me.”

  “That’s what friends are for. Is Tiff going to be able to babysit when you’re working?”

  “Yes, I have her for Thursday night. Matt’s back Friday morning. I’m not doing it after that.”

  “Sure you aren’t.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Let’s cut to the chase. Why not pursue a relationship with Matt? You two have been nuts for each other since the day you met.”

  “We hate each other.”

  “You call it hate, I call it chemistry resistance.” Amelia grinned.

  Vi stood. She’d had enough of this conversation. If Amelia knew either one of Vi’s secrets, she’d understand why Vi and Matt would never work out. It was even possible she’d end their friendship, too.

  “I have to get to class.”

  Amelia stood and put her backpack over her shoulder. “Me, too.”

  “You’re coming over tonight to help me with the boys, aren’t you?”

  “That’s the plan, though I’m certain you can handle them quite well on your own.”

  Vi was certain she couldn’t handle them any better than she handled their father.

  How had her fling turned into something so domestic? And why did she continue to put herself in a position with Matt and his boys that could eventually end in disaster?

  Why couldn’t she just say no?

  * * * *

  Several hours later Vi started her new, albeit short-lived career.

  She opened the front door and waited as the boys got off the school bus and trudged through the pouring rain and into the house. Vi shut the door behind them. Both shrugged out of their raincoats and left them where they fell. They gazed up at her. She stared at the boys, and they stared back, as if waiting for something. Hell if she knew what.

  “So, how was school?”

  Joey blinked at her as though she spoke a language he didn’t understand. Andy sighed and threw his backpack on the entry floor to keep his coat company. Brushing past her, he walked into the kitchen. His brother followed. They both climbed onto barstools and watched her expectantly. Joey kicked the cabinets with his little feet, while Andy tapped his finger on the counter.

  “Did you guys want something?”

  “Nanna always had a snack for us when we got home from school.”

  “A snack?”

  “Yeah, and milk,” Andy added.

  “Okay, I can do that.” She poured two glasses of milk and sat them on the counter.

  “That’s not my glass.” Joey frowned, making that pouty face that almost sent her into a panic. Oh Lord, please don’t let him start crying. She couldn’t handle crying kids, or God forbid, ones having tantrums. Whenever she’d been confronted with misbehaving kids in the past, she’d removed herself from the situation. She couldn’t do that tonight since she was playacting at being a nanny. What the fuck was she doing here? She couldn’t deal with kids. She didn’t relate well to them. They wouldn’t want to discuss the effects of climate change or debate hot-topic political issues. She knew nothing about superheroes or whatever crap little boys liked.

  “Which glass is yours?” She pointed to the open cabinet.

  “The one with the doggy on it.”

  Vi found the glass and transferred his milk to it.

  “Thank you.” Joey grinned at her, and the temper tantrum was averted.

  “You’re welcome.”

  So, that went well. Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion, and caring for children wasn’t so hard after all.

  She put two rice cakes on napkins and placed them in front of the boys. They both frowned at the snack with such looks of horror you’d have thought she’d served them slugs or something.

  “What is this?” Andy eyed her suspiciously.

  “Rice cakes. Very healthy and environmentally friendly.”

  Andy scowled at her, looking very much like his father.

  Joey tried his first and spit it out. “Ick. That’s gross. No one can eat that.”

  Andy tried next. He looked like he was going to puke, but he managed to chew while making the worst face she’d ever seen. He pushed his plate away. “Yuck. Tastes like cardboard.”

  “Nanna usually gives us cookies, not this crap.” Andy glared accusingly at her. Maybe she’d spoken too soon; this wasn’t going so well after all.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to be saying ‘crap.’”

  “Dad doesn’t care.”

  Vi didn’t believe him.

  Joey grabbed his rice cake and flung it across the room, giggling as it bounced off the window and landed in the sink. He flung both arms over his hea
d and cheered. “Two points!”

  Andy threw his rice cake and tried for two. He missed. Joey cheered even louder, while Andy grimaced.

  “Do you have any more of those?” Andy asked.

  “Not if you’re going to use them as basketballs.”

  “We could use them as pucks instead,” Andy suggested.

  “No.”

  Andy opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by his brother’s excited shouts.

  “What’s that?” Joey pointed at Luther, who’d sauntered into the kitchen to check out the noise. He froze at the sight of the little humans.

  “That’s my cat, Luther. He’s staying here with us, too. Just don’t let him outside.”

  “Kitty!” yelled Joey as he launched himself at her black cat. Luther took one look at the two-legged projectile streaking in his direction and raced for the living room with Joey hot on his heels. Andy sprinted after them, shouting loudly.

  Chaos ensued. Luther frantically scratched his way up the living room curtains to get away from the hellions. He huddled on top of the curtain rod, glaring down at the boys with bright yellow eyes. His uncatlike growl sounded more like a cougar than a kitty cat. Joey dragged a chair over to the curtains and scrambled onto it. Andy climbed onto the back of the couch, reaching for Luther.

  “Get down,” Vi yelled.

  The boys ignored her, making more noise than a crowd at a rock concert.

  “Kitty! Come here, kitty!”

  Luther’s snarling growl would’ve done his cougar cousins proud.

  Shit.

  She grabbed for Joey as he climbed on the back of the chair and it teetered precariously. Vi snagged him around the waist as the chair crashed to the floor.

  Joey let out a wail as if she were killing him and accidentally kicked her in the gut in his struggle to be set free. Vi’s patience shattered. She dropped him into a recliner and shook her finger at him. “Do not move. Not one inch if want to live to be six years old.”

  He glared up at her, then the tears started falling as he worked himself into full-blown sobbing and howling. The neighbors were going to call Child Protective Services, she just knew it.

  Shit.

  She didn’t have time to quiet Joey down. Andy was standing on tiptoes on the back of the couch and reaching for Luther. He grabbed the curtain rod to steady himself. Hissing, Luther attacked. He swatted at Andy’s outstretched hand. Andy screamed and yanked back a bloody palm. Losing his balance, he fell backward, taking the curtain rod and curtain with him. Vi dived for him, catching him in midair and twisting so she landed between the couch and the coffee table. Andy landed on top of her.

  The air rushed out of her and she lost her breath.

  Andy struggled to his feet, inadvertently kicking her in the ribs.

  Meanwhile, Luther, who’d leaped to safety as the curtain came down, made a break for it, disappearing into the recesses of the huge house. Vi didn’t have time to worry about him. She needed to breathe before she died while in the middle of rescuing two bratty little boys from a cougar disguised as an ordinary house cat.

  When she finally regained her breath, she realized it was eerily silent and dark, really, really dark. She was covered by the curtain. She opened her eyes a slit as Andy pulled the curtain off her. Both boys stared down at her, hands on their hips and twin expressions of concern on their faces.

  “Is she dead?” she heard Joey say. “Did we kill her?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so,” Andy answered as he rubbed his bleeding palm on his white T-shirt. “Vi, are you okay?” He shook her shoulder.

  “Yes, I’m okay. Don’t make plans to bury me yet.” Blinking and rubbing her side, Vi sat up before they got out the shovels and dragged her to the backyard. Both boys retreated a step and stared open mouthed at her. She wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe they thought she’d risen from the dead.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Andy asked, unfazed by her witch glare.

  “Yeah. Bruised, but I’ll survive.”

  “We’re sorry.”

  They didn’t look sorry. In fact, once the worry faded, they looked triumphant. Vi, however, was not. The boys, two points; her and Luther, zero.

  She forced her aching muscles into action and stood. “I want both of you to sit. And do not move.” She pointed at the table. Something in her eyes must have gotten her point across. Both boys scrambled to the dining room. After a brief fight over the same chair, they settled next to each other.

  Vi pursed her lips, searching her vast array of experiences for how to deal with these two boys, but nothing she’d ever done gave her much to draw on. Though she had been exposed to drooling men who behaved worse than children and female convicts who embraced drama and never took responsibility for anything.

  Luther peeked around the corner of the doorframe. Assessing the situation, he sauntered into the dining room, plunked his fat butt on the floor, and commenced cleaning his ass, one of his favorite pastimes.

  The boys erupted into a chorus of hoots and laughter at the cat’s ability to contort his body and so thoroughly lick his butt.

  “You two haven’t been around cats much, have you?”

  They shook their heads, all innocence and sweetness, but they didn’t fool her. She could sense the demon spawn lurking beneath.

  “Mom was allergic, and Dad doesn’t like the hair,” Andy supplied helpfully.

  “Well, then.” Vi took a seat. “Let’s bandage your hand, then we’ll discuss the proper treatment of animals.”

  They both grimaced, but didn’t protest.

  Vi smiled. She could do this. She’d gone to hell and returned unscathed. Maybe that wasn’t exactly accurate, but they hadn’t buried her in a plot in the backyard.

  She’d consider that a win.

  * * * *

  On Tuesday night, Matt disconnected the call with his boys and wandered downstairs to the hotel bar, not ready to sleep yet. His body was still on Pacific time. He was hungry and wanted a beer and a snack. Most of the guys had scattered after tonight’s game, the second game of their three-game road trip. They’d split the first two games, losing to the Oilers and beating the Hurricanes. Tomorrow was a travel day and a night off.

  He hadn’t been able to talk to them the night before. They’d been in bed before his game ended. But tonight his boys had gushed on and on about Vi’s cat, leaving Matt with a stab of regret that they’d never had a family pet. He’d have to rectify their pet-less status after the season ended. He couldn’t deal with a puppy right now.

  When Vi got on the phone, she’d said everything was wonderful, but there was an unmistakable edge in her tone. He knew his boys. They weren’t angels. They were all boy, and they were a handful even for him. He sighed. At least the three of them were still alive and had all their appendages.

  Coop, Brick, Smooth, and Ice sat around a table in the hotel bar, eating nachos and arguing about anything hockey. As he pulled out a chair to sit down, Hot Rod joined them. He looked like shit. All the men at the table stared at him long and hard. The twenty-nine-year-old defenseman resembled a drunk who’d been puking his guts out for hours after an all-night bender.

  Matt suspected Rod’s problems weren’t that simple. He made room for his teammate next to him, knowing the guy might need to talk. The waitress hustled over with two additional pitchers of beer and a few more glasses. Matt filled both glasses and offered one to Rod, who just stared at it.

  “You okay?” He kept his voice low so only Rod could hear.

  “Not really.” The guy looked miserable, the same way Matt had looked when he’d been trying to make it work with his ex-wife, all the while knowing they didn’t have a chance in Hades.

  “What’d she do now?” Matt asked.

  Rod swallowed hard and blinked several times. He rubbed a napkin over his face. He met Matt’s gaze briefly and sighed deeply. “She’s messing with one of the Skookums baseball players. The asshole has plenty of time for her since it’s his off-season.”r />
  “And you know this how?” Matt kept his voice calm and logical. The last thing his teammate needed was to jump to conclusions.

  “I paid a PI to follow her while I was on this road trip. Our plane hadn’t even taxied down the runway, and he was texting me. Simon Carstairs, the pitcher, showed up and went into our house. He’s been there ever since, except for the two hours they took my Harley out for a spin. I’ll never be able to sit on that bike again. They did it on my bike. The PI has pictures. Fucking sucks.” He fisted his hands in his hair and groaned.

  “Ah, man, that’s brutal.” Matt wondered how one managed to do it on a bike. Had it been moving? He could picture Vi on a bike with all those tattoos. She’d look good on a Harley. If anyone knew how to have sex on a Harley, Vi would know.

  “Yeah, I loved that bike.” Rod almost smiled.

  Matt grimaced. “Get another one, a better one with less mileage and built to last.” He wasn’t talking about the bike, and they both knew it.

  “I’m calling my attorney in the morning. I’m done.”

  Matt hoped the poor bastard had a prenup. Thank God Matt’s mom and dad had insisted Matt get one.

  “I think that’s a good decision. You deserve better. You’re a good guy.”

  “How do you find a good woman? They want my money and my fame, not me. The first guy who comes along with a higher profile and more cash, they’re like see ya.”

  “You’re asking the wrong guy. I didn’t make a good choice, either. All I got is, learn from your mistakes.”

  “That must’ve been tough with two boys. At least we don’t have kids. She never wanted to mess up her figure.” Rod rolled his eyes.

  “It was fucking hell. My boys still miss her. You’re going to move on and be smarter next time.”

  “Shit, I hope so. When it comes to women, Little Rod does most of the thinking.”

  Little Rod? Matt managed to keep a stone face, but it wasn’t easy.

  The other guys’ heated argument over the best skates to buy had ended and the table was oddly quiet. Brick glanced over, noticing Rod for the first time, and did a double take at his disheveled appearance. “Holy shit, man, you look worse than Rush after two all-nighters in a row.”

 

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