Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8)

by Jami Davenport

  “I didn’t know I had the problem until last night. I’m willing to pay a generous amount.” His pleading brown eyes sucked Ruby right into their magnetic web. Even Amelia felt the tug of attraction, and she’d developed an immunity to good-looking men. But then, she wasn’t certain she’d ever met a man as pleasing to the eye as this one.

  “How generous?” Amelia elbowed her sister-in-law out of the way and stepped forward. He’d said the magic words—pay a generous amount.

  “Very. Three hundred a day.” His eyes met hers. They were deep brown, the color of the hazelnut dark chocolate sauce she liked to pour on ice cream. The image of pouring that same sauce over this man’s pecs and abs flashed through her mind. She shook her head to clear it.

  A knowing smirk spread across his handsome face.

  “Three hundred a day,” Amelia repeated in an effort to ground herself back in the reality of cold, hard cash. She did a few careful calculations in her head. “I’ll do it.” She ignored Ruby’s cutting glare. It wasn’t as if Ruby could play nanny for his child, not with a husband and a business to run.

  His face lit up brighter than stadium lights, and she basked in the radiant glow. “Thank you. You saved my ass.”

  Ruby glared at Amelia. “You work here during the day. You can’t care for a child twenty-four-seven.”

  “You have other helpers you can call on. It’s only for a few weeks, isn’t it?” Amelia directed her question to the gorgeous hunk.

  He shifted from one foot to the other and avoided her gaze, his cocky confidence wavering slightly. “Uh, yeah, until I can make other arrangements.” He turned to Ruby. “I’ll put her in your day care and pay you twice what you normally get.”

  Amelia frowned. They were full, and Ruby had already had one too many warnings from social services about violations.

  Brick sensed Amelia’s reluctance. His cockiness fully restored, he turned on the charm again. “I’m begging you to help me out, ladies.” That sad, puppy-dog face worked its magic.

  “Absolutely,” Ruby said without giving their capacity one consideration.

  A grin spread across his face and lit up his eyes. “I live down the road and drive by every day. I was hoping I could find a place this convenient. It’s only for a few weeks. I’m planning on making other arrangements as soon as I can. I don’t have the lifestyle conducive to raising a child.”

  Amelia didn’t doubt that. She vaguely recalled rumors regarding the goalie’s degenerate lifestyle. She was surprised he had a child, especially one he had custody of. Perhaps the child was visiting for a few weeks. Regardless, the circumstances were none of her business. She could earn several thousand in a few weeks at the rate he was paying. That’d take care of next quarter’s tuition. Maybe she’d even treat herself to a new top or jeans.

  “I don’t have a game tomorrow, but I have morning practice. Can I drop her off in the morning?”

  “Absolutely, Brick.” Ruby’s smile was sultry and inviting, but he wasn’t taking the bait.

  “Thanks.” He turned to Amelia. “Maybe you could come by tomorrow night, and I can get you set up with keys and stuff?”

  “Sounds good. Don’t you want to run a background check on me?”

  He blinked a few times as if the question surprised him. He probably had people who did this stuff for him without him ever having to think about the same perils normal people did. “Uh, yeah. Uh, could you write the pertinent details on a piece of paper for me? There isn’t anything I should be worried about, is there?”

  “Of course not. Or I wouldn’t be working here.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Assuming everything checks out, meet me about seven o’clock at my place?” Looking around, he picked up a coloring book and blue crayon. He scratched out his address and handed it to Amelia.

  “I’ll be there, Mr. Bricker.”

  He chuckled. “Call me Brick. Everyone else does.”

  “Okay, Brick it is.” She suspected the man’s body was a hard as a brick. Damn, but he was fine.

  He winked at her, and she fell for him just like any other woman. She hated that. She wasn’t any other woman. She’d didn’t fall prey to good-looking men—not anymore. Obviously, she needed a refresher course in exactly why she avoided guys like him. Her reasons were many, and she was still paying the price.

  He waited while she wrote down her info, took the piece of paper from her, and left.

  Her gaze followed him out the door. It didn’t hurt to look, and he did have a nice ass.

  * * * *

  Brick’s teammate and fellow goalie Jacques Frontier came to the rescue. Jacques’s wife had volunteered to care for Macy while Brick searched for child care and went to practice. Shit, the Frontiers had five kids. What was one more?

  After lucking out and finding a temporary nanny—an incredibly gorgeous one—and day care at the first place he’d stopped, he headed earlier than usual to the SHAC, aka Sockeyes Hockey Athletic Center, which comprised the practice rink, the workout facilities, and the Sockeyes headquarters. He called Al and relayed Amelia’s info, minus the fact that his new nanny was freaking hot. Al bitched and moaned about being his secretary but grudgingly agreed to get back to him by tomorrow.

  Practice sucked. His timing was off, and he missed blocking several easy shots. His teammates cast concerned glances in his direction but said nothing. They didn’t need to. Their worried expressions said it for them. He got it. They were one game into the regular season. They’d opened their season last Saturday in the brand-spanking-new Sockeyes Arena with a shutout win. Now Brick was off his game.

  Even the worst hangover and pounding headache hadn’t affected Brick as much as the child on his doorstep. He kept his mouth shut, not in the mood for their ribbing when they found out the party boy’s wings had been clipped. Thankfully, Jacques didn’t clue them in. He was a stand-up guy who minded his own business and contributed in whatever way he could to the team.

  Brick should pick up Macy, but he lingered at practice, taking some extra reps in the weight room, running several extra miles on the treadmill, and coercing the team masseuse to fit him into his schedule. He refused to admit he was afraid to go home and be alone with a little girl. He had no idea what to do with a heartbroken, abandoned child. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so helpless and out of his element, all the way back to living with his new stepmother and her son, his former best friend. Yeah, that’d been a hellish year, and he was still recovering from that feeling of uselessness.

  He was a partier, damn it. No responsibilities except on the ice. He liked it that way. People gravitated to the party boy, fawned all over him, and most of all, made him feel wanted, and Brick needed to feel wanted.

  Working on his third cup of coffee, he rubbed his weary eyes and slumped down on the bench in front of his stall. He needed sleep, but his current castrated lifestyle weighed too heavily on him to allow for a good night’s rest.

  “You’re sure playing like shit.”

  Brick jerked his head in the direction of the speaker. He shrugged, unable to muster the energy for one of his usual cocky comebacks. Isaac “Ice” Wolfe sat down next to him. Ice wasn’t known for his friendly conversation, though he’d gotten better since he’d found Avery, the love of his life, or so he claimed. Weird what that shit could do to a guy.

  Ice narrowed those pale blue eyes and saw right through him. “What’s going on? You knock some girl up?”

  Brick choked on the coffee he’d swigged. Fuck, was Ice psychic or something?

  Ice sat back, and his eyes grew bigger than pucks. “What the fuck?”

  Brick plastered a devil-may-care grin on his face, not wanting Ice to see his misery. Unfortunately, his teammate’s shrewd gaze cut right through the crap.

  “You got some girl pregnant?” Ice said again. This time the corners of his mouth hitched upward, and perverse amusement glinted in his shrewd eyes.

  “Seriously? You think I’m daddy material?” Brick
dodged the question.

  “Fuck no, but as much as you put your dick anywhere it’ll fit, I’d expect an entire small city of children to be fathered by you.”

  “I always wear a condom. Always.”

  “They break.” Ice smirked, and Brick fought the urge to eradicate that smirk with a fist to the defenseman’s face.

  “She’s not my kid. As soon as the DNA test gets back, I’ll prove it, and she’ll be someone else’s problem.”

  “So the mother’s going after you for child support, or what?”

  “More like ‘or what.’” Brick dropped all pretenses and buried his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  Ice stayed silent. Brick lowered his hands and stared at the floor. Ice waited, and that man would wait until hell froze over.

  “The mother is dead. Someone left the kid on my doorstep with a note saying she’s my daughter.”

  “That’s rough, man,” Ice said, and fell silent for several long moments—the calm before the storm. “How old?”

  “Five years, a girl.” Saying the words made them more real. His stomach tied in knots and his head pounded. Oh God, he was so screwed.

  “A girl?” Ice snorted through his nose.

  “Yeah. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us. I’m not in the mood to be hazed about it.”

  “Do you know who her mother was?”

  “No.”

  “That doesn’t mean you didn’t bang her, though.”

  “My agent is unraveling the entire mess.” There were so many women, so many one-night stands. And only the crazy stalker types or the especially kinky ones held a spot in his memory.

  “What are you going to do if she is yours? A kid is going to cramp your lifestyle.”

  “Tell me about it. Hire a full-time nanny, I guess.”

  Ice shook his head and leveled Brick with one of those intimidating stares he reserved for the opposing team’s enforcer. “Brick, that little girl deserves a father, especially since she doesn’t have a mother. Your lifestyle is about to change whether you like it or not.”

  “Fuck,” Brick muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. Ice hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know, but he wanted to live in denial a little longer.

  “Your wings have been clipped, my man.”

  “I did hire a sexy nanny. That’s a plus.” Brick managed a grin. His thoughts drifted back to Amelia with that shiny brown hair and those deep blue eyes. Yeah, he could get into sleeping with the nanny. He’d always had sexy librarian fantasies, but hell, a nanny who looked like Megan Fox… Now there was a fantasy he could sink his teeth into. Or better yet, a different part of his anatomy.

  “Nanny, huh?” Ice stood, shaking his head and smirking. “Good luck, Brick. You’re going to need it.” His smirk disappeared as he leaned closer. “But whatever the fuck happens, keep your personal problems off the ice. We need you focused one hundred percent on the game.”

  Brick nodded. Ice was right, of course. Today he’d let the drama in his life affect his concentration. A goalie couldn’t afford to do that, or he’d be benched and replaced with Jacques the backup. They might be friends, but Jock was already breathing down his neck and chomping at the bit to take Brick’s job. Even more so, this was their year to make that run for the Cup. All the pieces were in place.

  He couldn’t afford distractions.

  Chapter 3—Shot Blocked

  Amelia didn’t have any problem finding Brick’s condo on Lake Union. It sat up on the hill overlooking the water. She walked up a couple flights of steps and rang the doorbell for unit 3-1. Inside she heard shrieking and the pounding of footsteps. The door was yanked open by an adorable little girl with Brick’s big brown eyes. Dark hair cascaded down her back in waves of rich chocolate. She wore a pink top and pink leggings and carried a beat-up rag doll.

  She looked Amelia up and down, assessing her with a practiced gaze too old for one so young.

  “Hi, I’m Amelia. You must be Macy.” Amelia smiled reassuringly at the child.

  Macy nodded, still eyeing her with suspicion.

  “Can I come in?”

  Reluctantly, the little girl stood back to let Macy enter.

  Things certainly hadn’t gone as planned so far, but even the toughest kids eventually warmed up to Amelia. She had a way with kids.

  “Is your da—uh, Mr. Bricker around?”

  Macy didn’t glance back. She just walked away. Amelia followed her into a large great room with high ceilings and a wall of windows with a spectacular view of Lake Union. The place was obviously a bachelor pad, and currently it was a mess. Dishes were stacked on the granite countertops, a couple pots and pans sat on the stove, and a cereal box lay on its side with the contents scattered on the counter and floor.

  The living room with its dark wood floors and modern furniture didn’t fare much better, with toys, clothes, books, and other stuff littering the floors, coffee table, and L-shaped couch. If Brick employed a cleaning service, it hadn’t been around for a while.

  Brick walked down the hall, drying his short-cropped hair with a towel. He wore a pair of low-slung shorts and nothing else. Beads of water clung to his muscled chest, drawing her eyes to those incredible pecs. Water trickled down the middle of his chest, and her eyes automatically followed its path past a well-defined six-pack. Droplets pooled in his belly button before continuing downward to slip under the waistband of his shorts.

  She swallowed and cleared her suddenly dry throat.

  Brick’s chuckle startled her out of her gawking. Her face heated, and she forced her gaze to a safe point beyond his broad shoulders.

  “Like what you see?” he teased, his eyes lighting up with mirth.

  “I, uh…”

  “The sight of my body renders most women speechless. You should see what they do when I drop my shorts.” He spoke as if his statement was nothing but mere fact, with little conceit and a lot of amusement.

  Amelia didn’t have an answer.

  Macy watched the two of them with interest before wandering off to play with her well-worn doll. Brick slung his towel around his neck and motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen. He stacked some mail on top of another precariously high pile to clear a place on the counter.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured toward one of the barstools.

  “Thank you.” Amelia sat down stiffly and placed a folder on the counter in front of her.

  “Want a drink?”

  “Water’s fine.”

  He studied her for a moment, then shrugged one muscled shoulder. “Suit yourself.” He filled a glass with water and ice from the dispenser on the refrigerator door, grabbed himself a beer, and slid onto the barstool next to her. He pushed the water toward her and popped the top of his beer, taking a long pull.

  Amelia opened the folder and handed him a few items. “This is my résumé and references.”

  He glanced at the papers, barely paying them any notice; instead he leaned closer and grinned. “I’m sure you’re perfectly qualified. After all, you work at a day care.”

  She wasn’t convinced his logic was sound, but she wasn’t about to argue, not with him so close she could see gold flecks in his brown eyes. “You sure you—”

  “Nah.” He waved her off with another charming grin. “Al checked you out. We’re good.”

  “Al?”

  “My ruthless agent. He ran all kinds of background checks. You’ve got nothing on your record but a speeding ticket from years ago.”

  “Well, then, shall we get started going over things?” She squeaked out the last few words. The way the man stared at her made all her lady parts tingle, fogged her brain, and clogged her throat.

  “I always thought nannies were old, wrinkled, and cranky.” His hot gaze slid across her body like a caress, and she shivered. He cocked a brow, and their eyes met. Her heart thumped against her rib cage, begging to be turned loose to wreak havoc and take no prisoners.

  “I can be cranky.”
Amelia scooted her stool away from him, which brought a knowing smirk to his face.

  “I’m good with cranky, especially from someone as beautiful as you. Has anyone ever told you that you look like Megan F—”

  “All the frigging time,” she interrupted.

  “I would think you’d be happy about that.”

  “Well, I’m not.” She crossed her arms over her chest, grateful he’d hit a sore spot, distracting her gutter mind from all the things it wanted to do to him.

  “Too bad, because I sure as hell am.” He shot her a dazzling smile, which had certainly dropped many a panty, but not hers, at least not now.

  Amelia bristled and prepared to put this guy in his place. “Look, Mr. Bricker. I have no interest in being one of your many conquests. I’m here to do a job, and that’s it.” She shot him the glare her day care kids called her death glare.

  Brick didn’t bat an eye, though the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I like a woman who can put me in my place. And it’s Brick, not Mr. Bricker.”

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “If you’ll show me where I’ll be staying and anything I need to know about Macy’s routine, I’ll be out of your way.”

  He frowned, obviously disappointed. “Okay.”

  “Shouldn’t she be enrolled in kindergarten?”

  He blinked as if she’d brought up something he’d never considered. “I, uh, this is only a temporary arrangement. I don’t want her to get comfortable at a school, then pull her out.”

  Amelia nodded, not understanding this situation at all, and pretty sure the less she knew, the better. “I can work with her on her alphabet, numbers, and reading.”

  “That’d be wonderful.” His relief was evident. There came that panty-melting grin again. Despite her attempts at resistance, she could feel hers about to go up in flames.

  “What about her routine? Do you have it written down?”

  Again, the shocked look tinged with guilt. “I trust you. Do what you think is best.”

  “Okay.”