Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
No idea where she got that from.
“One week,” I agreed. “But you have to be honest and tell me if it doesn’t work out. I don’t want to take you from your boyfriend or anything.”
At that, her lips curled, eyes searching mine. “No boyfriend, Mr. Perry.”
The words were soft and timid.
And for some reason, they sent a jolt straight to my cock, just like hearing her say yes, sir had earlier.
I ignored the sensation, nodding as I opened the door for her while surmising that I needed to get laid soon so I didn’t keep having fantasies about my kid’s teacher and now, possible nanny. It wasn’t hard to find a woman to warm my bed, but I didn’t do it often — not until my agitation got to a point where I had no choice but to find a release that wasn’t my fucking hand.
Apparently, that time had come.
We walked to Chloe’s car, and once we reached it, I asked, “How much?”
“To nanny the easiest child in the world?” She tapped her chin. “Oh, I don’t know. Five grand a week.”
I considered the price for only a split second before I held out my hand. “Fair.”
Chloe gaped at me, laughing at my hand before she swatted it away. “I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s… ridiculous. That’s far too much.”
“To know my daughter is safe and cared for, I’d pay four times that price.”
She softened, her brows sliding together, and I hated the way she looked at me in that moment so much that I opened her car door and ushered her inside.
“I can take her to school in the morning, but I’ll need you to care for her after. I’ll send you an email with the gate and house codes, but I have to get everything changed since I fired my previous nanny today. It might take a couple days, so if you don’t mind taking her to your place until then?”
“Not a problem at all,” she assured me.
“I’ll make sure she has extra clothes. I have a friend who can come get her and bring her to the game.”
“I could take her,” she offered. “I mean, if you want. We need to test out every scenario, right?”
I nodded. “Fair point. I’ll have a ticket for both of you at the box office.”
She rolled down her window when I shut her door, the old car firing to life.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Turkey,” Chloe said with a wink.
And then she reversed out of the driveway, giving me a headache while simultaneously saving my ass.
Dead Inside
Chloe
The next evening, I sat next to Ava in club level seats at the Tampa Bay Ospreys arena downtown, wide-eyed and taking in the scenery of my first hockey game.
The energy was palpable.
Fans streamed in from every direction, filling the seats and adding to the noise level with every passing minute. The jumbotron shot off announcement after announcement while the DJ played loud, upbeat music for the teams to warm up to.
I looked around in awe, taking in the various groups of fans. I saw everything from couples and families with young kids to groups of rowdy men sloshing beer and screaming women with hand-painted signs for their favorite players.
The game hadn’t even started yet, and the crowd was loud as hell.
Ava stood next to where I sat, pressing up on her tiptoes to get a better look at all the action. As usual, she didn’t wear a smile, but just like she had when I brought her to practice, she lit up like I’d never seen her before.
“You really like hockey, don’t you?” I asked her.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, barely acknowledging me as she watched the players warm up. It was almost seven-thirty, and from what her father had told me, she usually went to bed around eight or eight-thirty. But tonight was a special occasion, and she didn’t look the slightest bit sleepy.
I turned my attention back to the ice to where the players were, and I didn’t realize I was chewing at the skin on my lip until Ava said something about it.
“How come you move so much when you’re sitting still?”
I blinked, then chuckled, blushing a little as I realized she’d picked up on my nervous tics. I had a habit of wringing my hands together or fussing with my hair when I was uncomfortable — had ever since I was a kid. It drove my mom and grandmother absolutely batshit, but I had yet to find a way to control it.
To be honest, I rarely realized I was doing it at all.
“Just like to fidget, I guess,” I said. “You know, kind of like the fidget slinkies we have in class?”
“Those are kinda fun.” She looked at me then. “Maybe you should carry one in your purse.”
I rolled my lips together against a laugh. “Yeah, I probably should, huh?”