“I, uh, uh.”
Al laughed and knelt in front of the little girl. “Hey, honey, I’m Al. I’d love to play with you and Simone, but your daddy and I have a few things to discuss. Do you think you could sit over there like a good little girl and watch TV for a few minutes?”
“Okay.” She skipped to the couch. “How do you turn it on?”
Brick let out a sigh and flipped on his eighty-inch UHD flat screen. He scrolled through the channels until he found a children’s station, then quickly retreated to the relative safety of the kitchen.
“You gotta help me.”
Al grinned a toothy, wholly unsympathetic grin. “You think? I’m your agent, not your babysitter.”
Brick glared at him. “She’s not my child.”
“She thinks she is.” Al was entirely too amused.
“I need your help. I’m desperate. I can’t have a kid here.”
Al chuckled and glanced at Macy, who was singing along to the TV. “Care to explain what’s going on? You were childless when I talked to you yesterday.”
Brick filled him in, ignoring the bastard’s growing amusement. “Here’s the note.”
Al looked it over with a shrewd agent’s eye. “Interesting. Any idea who the mother might be?”
“You’re shitting me, right?” Brick growled, forcing himself to keep his frustration at bay and his voice low.
“It might be an important part of the puzzle.”
“Can’t you find out where she came from? I pay you to clean up my messes.”
“Not enough.” Al threw back his head and laughed.
“This isn’t funny. You gotta help me.” Brick’s gaze was drawn to the little girl sitting on his couch singing to her doll. His gut clenched, and he swiped at his sweaty brow.
“Okay, I’ll get my PI friend on this. Find out any existing relatives. See if I can get a picture of the mother. We’ll run a DNA test, but that’ll take time.” Al switched into troubleshooting agent mode, even though his mouth still twitched with amusement.
“I don’t have time. The regular season is under way. I have a road trip in two days, and I can’t have a kid living here.”
“It’s not like she’s a stray cat you can dump off at an animal shelter.” Al pointed out the obvious and drew a well-deserved scowl from Brick. “And most likely she is yours. She looks like you.”
Brick scowled all the more. “I always wear a condom.”
“Condoms fail.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” Brick groaned and dropped his ass onto a dining room chair. He searched his memory, trying to recall any condom malfunctions. Yeah, there had been a few incidents during bouts of rambunctious sex, but he couldn’t begin to remember those women’s faces.
Al sat across from him. “Let’s see what the DNA test says. If she’s not yours, we’ll call Child Protective Services.”
“And if she’s mine?”
His agent’s smirk was downright annoying. “Then welcome to the world of the single dad.”
“What the fuck do I do with her in the meantime?” Brick scrubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He lived a charmed life. Everything always went his way.
“For starters, clean up your language.” Al snorted and leaned back in his chair.
“I can’t take care of a kid. I have a life. I play hockey. I’m gone half the season.”
“Real-world problems, my man. Real-world problems.”
“You’re not helping any.”
“Since when do my duties involve family matters? Be lucky you only have one—so far.”
Brick shuddered. “Don’t say that.”
Al snickered and winked. “Good luck. I’ll call your attorney, make sure housing this child is legal and all.” He stood and headed for the door.
Brick leaped to his feet and followed him. “You can’t leave me like this.”
Al waved at the little girl, completely engrossed in some kid’s show. “Bye, Macy.”
She waved back. “Bye, Uncle Al.”
“Uncle Al?” This kid was making way too many presumptions.
“I like the sound of that.” Al opened the door. “You’d better get cracking. You have a road trip in two days.”
“Where am I going to find a nanny in two days?” Brick groaned. He’d always avoided responsibility outside the rink, and an instant child was way too much responsibility.
“I noticed a day care a few blocks down the street. Ask them.” With those parting words, Al left Brick to fend for himself.
Glancing at the child, Brick considered his options. She smiled at him, and he swallowed around an odd lump. He managed a smile back.
He could dial his mother. She’d know what to do. She’d probably travel from Vancouver tomorrow and take this kid off his hands. His stepfather, Rick, wouldn’t mind. He loved kids. If only his mother had married him while Brick had still been living at home, maybe his teen years wouldn’t have sucked so much.
Brick slunk into the kitchen so Macy couldn’t hear him. “Mom?”
“Hi, honey, how are you?”
“I’m not so good.”
“Oh God, Marty, what did you do now?”
“I didn’t do anything. Not exactly.” He hedged, trying to come up with a way to break this to his mother. He decided on honesty and ran through the entire story. When he finished, silenced reigned.
“Mom?”
“I’m a grandmother?”
He couldn’t tell if she was pleased or pissed. “I’m not sure. We need to do a DNA test.”
“Who leaves a child on a stranger’s doorstep and disappears?” His mother sounded indignant.
“I don’t know. That’s the least of my worries. I need help. I have a road trip coming up. Could you come to Seattle tomorrow and get her?”
Another long silence.
“Mom?” He wasn’t feeling too good about his odds right now.
She blew out a long-suffering sigh only his mother could produce. “It pains me to say this, but no.”
“What?” Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“You heard me, young man. Did you forget Rick and I are leaving in a few hours for a month and a half in Europe?”
“Uh, yeah.” He hated to admit he’d forgotten. He’d been so focused on his surprise, he’d spaced on their trip.
She sighed. “You’re not the only person in this world with plans, Marty.” As if he hadn’t heard that before.
“I know.”
“I agree. With your schedule and not having a wife or steady girlfriend, it’d be next to impossible to raise a young child. Let me discuss this with Rick, and we’ll see what we can do when we get back, assuming she’s yours. This problem is your responsibility for now.” Leave it to his mother to be pragmatic about the situation.
“But—”
“I have to go now. I’ll call you in a few days and see how you’re doing. I can’t wait to see my granddaughter when we get back.” The phone went dead.
Brick felt a tug on his sweats.
“I’m hungry.” The little girl looked up at him with the biggest, most innocent cocker spaniel eyes, and who could resist a cocker spaniel? His hardened heart cracked a little, and he shored it up with mental duct tape. He wouldn’t fall prey to this child. She couldn’t stay with him.
He tried another number. His sister would help. All he had to do was text her a picture, and she’d fall in love, as she did with every stray animal.
Nona answered. “Hey, Brick, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“How’s my favorite sister?”
“I’m your only sister. What’s up?”
“Just called to see how you were.”
“No, you didn’t.”
He was guilty as charged of calling his sister only when he needed something. Brick pulled out all the stops. “Ah, Nona, seriously. What’s wrong with me wanting to have a conversation with my sister?”
“Nothing�
��s wrong with it other than you never call me just to talk, so fess up, Marty.”
Brick groaned. “Okay, I admit it. I need your help. Desperately.”
“Oh, really.” He could hear her devious wheels turning as she calculated what he might possibly be calling for and how she could use it to her advantage in their friendly, ongoing sibling rivalry.
“Yeah, really,” he said gloomily.
“Daddy, can I have some milk?” The little urchin stared up at him with pleading eyes.
“Daddy? Did I hear that right?” His sister’s voice came through loud and clear, as did the restrained laughter. “Is that your problem?”
“Yeah, found her on my doorstep this afternoon.”
“Are you kidding?”
Brick made his way to the refrigerator and poured Macy a glass of milk. She thanked him and returned to her TV. Certain she was occupied, he relayed the story to his sister, who was dying of laughter by the time he’d finished. Why people found his predicament so hilariously funny was beyond him.
“And what do you expect me to do?”
“Come and get her. I have a road trip in two days.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re the one who can’t keep it in your pants. Welcome to adulthood, baby brother. I’m in graduate school. I don’t have time for a child. And Mom’s leaving on her trip.”
“I know,” he answered grumpily.
Nona erupted with more laughter. The women in his family had no appreciation for the dilemma he was in. “You could always call Dad and Liz. You know how touchy-feely our beloved stepmother is.”
Brick shuddered. He knew all right. The woman could melt a hole in an ice rink with one glare. As desperate as he was, he’d never subject a child—any child—to that cold, calculating bitch.
“Never mind. I’ll deal with this myself.” He sighed and disconnected the phone, his sister’s laughter still ringing in his ears.
Macy yawned, and Brick realized with a guilty start she’d probably had a long, tiring day, even though it was early evening.
“Time for bed.”
“I don’t want to go to bed.” She screwed her face up into a nasty scowl worthy of Ice, the Sockeyes’ surly defenseman.
“Sorry, but you need some rest.” He was so not cut out for this parenting shit. He could leave her to her own devices. He was tired, even if she wasn’t. He must be getting old. Partying all night never used to wear him out, but last night’s binge had taken a toll.
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her little chin. Her belligerence wore on his patience.
“Please, Macy, it’s been a long day for both of us.”
They stared each other down, but she was out of her league. He could stare down the best of them.
Finally, she looked away and stuck out her lower lip, which quivered. “Okay.”
Brick didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. He grabbed the suitcase and led her to the guest room. He showed her the adjoining bathroom.
She stood near the bed and rubbed her eyes. Her attitude had dissipated, leaving a scared little girl so alone in the cold, cruel world.
Brick stood in the doorway, praying she didn’t cry. “Do you need help getting ready for bed?”
She shoved her knuckles in her mouth and shook her head.
“Okay, well then, good night.” Drawn by emotions he couldn’t begin to explain, Brick crossed the room, knelt down, and gave her a hug. Her little arms went stiffly around his neck. He blinked several times, finding his eyesight a little blurry.
Sitting back on his haunches, he held her shoulders. “It’ll all be okay. I promise.”
She sniffed and nodded, gazing at him with disbelieving brown eyes. Not liking how close to the surface his own feelings were, he rose to his feet.
“Good night.” Her little voice wavered, and Brick got the hell out of there. He turned down the heat, stripped off his clothes, and crawled into bed. He sank into the welcoming mattress and closed his eyes. Only sleep didn’t come.
He was an asshole. A big asshole. Instead of comforting this scared child who’d been abandoned on his doorstep, he’d run like a coward. Sure, he’d hugged her, but he could’ve done more.
Brick stared into the darkness for God knew how long. Finally, he got out of bed, threw on a robe, and walked down the hall to the guest bedroom. He listened at the door and heard nothing. Cracking it open, he peeked inside. Macy lay under the covers, her doll clutched tightly to her. Her eyes were shut.
He walked closer and stared down at the cherubic face. She was a pretty little thing and would be a beauty by her teens, requiring her father to sit on the front porch with a shotgun to scare off the boys. He shuddered at the thought, not because he’d pictured himself hefting that gun, but because he knew what teenage boys were capable of.
He reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. Tenderness welled up in his chest, leaving him momentarily incapacitated. When she’d thrown her arms around him and called him Daddy, he’d lost his sanity for a split second and almost wished it were true. But it wasn’t, and he wasn’t fit to be any child’s father.
Brick backed away, fighting a surprising paternal urge to care for and protect this child.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Chapter 2—Blocking the Puck
Amelia Stacey scooped up the toddler as he barreled past. She held him by his waist as he attempted to wriggle from her grip. “Oh, no you don’t, Eddie. It’s nap time.”
She carried the squirming boy to the row of mats against the wall and laid him on an empty one.
“I don’t want to sleep.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his face turning red, and pounded his legs and fists against the mat.
Amelia knelt and tickled him. Eddie burst into fits of giggles, forgetting his tantrum. Eventually, he collapsed in a heap of tired child and closed his eyes. With a weary sigh, she rose and swept her gaze around the room. Four children slept soundly, along with three babies in nearby cribs. She sank into a chair, bone-tired and wishing she could take a nap herself.
“Sorry I’m late.” Her sister-in-law hustled into the room, breathless and harried. But then, Ruby was always like that, just as she was always running late, and always leaving Amelia to handle the day care by herself.
This was Ruby’s day care, but a casual observer would assume Amelia was the owner. Amelia loved kids but couldn’t have one of her own and had dedicated her career to working with small children.
“You knew I had an afternoon class I couldn’t miss, and it’s too late now to make it.”
“I’m sorry.” Ruby didn’t sound one bit sorry.
Amelia opened her mouth to give her brother’s wife a piece of her mind and snapped it shut. She needed this job. For starters part of her “salary” included the use of the small studio apartment in the partial daylight basement of their house. Where else in Seattle’s high-demand housing market could she get such flexible hours to accommodate her class load? Only they hadn’t been very flexible lately, and she’d begun to suspect Ruby might be cheating on Dean. Amelia sincerely hoped not, but she’d heard the two arguing late into the night on many occasions, since their bedroom was above hers.
The outside door opened to the day care. A drop-dead gorgeous hunk of man sauntered in as if he owned the world. Both Amelia and Ruby stopped in their tracks and gaped at him. He wasn’t the type of man you’d expect to see in a day care. He belonged between the covers of a magazine advertising Calvin Klein jeans or sexy men’s cologne. The hunk towered over Ruby and Amelia, taller than most men, a commanding presence with a charming, boyish smile.
Ruby bolted forward, practically tripping over her feet in the rush to get to him. Amelia hung back, wary as to why this handsome stranger would be here of all places.
“What can I do for you?” Ruby gushed.
“Hello, beautiful ladies.” He grinned at Ruby, fully aware of his effect on women and using it to his advantage. “I have a probl
em, and I’m hoping you can help me.”
“I will, oh, I will.” Ruby slid closer to him. Amelia rolled her eyes. This guy dressed in his designer jeans and expensive leather jacket and sporting what appeared to be a Rolex wouldn’t be the least bit interested in Ruby, or Amelia for that matter. He was here for an entirely different reason, and she couldn’t fathom what the reason might be.
Curiosity got the best of her, and she edged closer to catch the conversation.
“I’d so appreciate your help. I’m Martin.” His megawatt smile lit up the dreary Seattle day. Ruby melted at his feet, but Amelia held strong.
“I’m Ruby Stacey, and this is my business. What can I possibly do to help a big, strong man like you, Martin?” Ruby’s voice thickened with sultry undertones, making Amelia want to roll her eyes. Or even better, smack the woman for flirting so outrageously with this man in front of her husband’s sister.
Martin’s gaze slid to Amelia. “And you are?”
“That’s Amelia. My helper,” Ruby answered quickly. She stepped in front of Amelia, effectively cutting her out of the conversation.
“Well, ladies, here’s the deal. I find myself in need of temporary child care for a five-year-old girl during the day and some nights and weekends for at least the next two weeks.”
“Are you a truck driver?” Ruby asked.
Amelia could’ve told Ruby this man was not a truck driver. Truck drivers didn’t make the kind of money to afford clothes like his. Ask her stepfather. Or her mother, who never had enough money to pay the bills.
Martin chuckled, finding her guess about his profession amusing. “I’m a hockey player for the Seattle Sockeyes.”
“Oh my God. You’re that Martin? Martin Bricker. Brick, the goalie. I thought you looked familiar. My husband and I love hockey.” Ruby had gone into full fangirl mode, batting her eyes and pushing out her ample chest.
His smile oozed sexual charm and reeled Ruby in like fish on a line. “That’s me. I’m appealing to you as a fan to help me out, ladies. For starters, I leave on a road trip tomorrow, and I need someone to take care of Macy while I’m gone.”
“You didn’t think of this problem sooner? Isn’t this a little last-minute?” Amelia felt a surge of annoyance toward all irresponsible parents who waited until the last minute.
Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8) Page 2
