“Ryder or Ry.” He nodded and bounced Tate slightly on his right knee. “What can I call you?”
“Bree.” She spread her hands. “Pretty boring when your name is short, no nicknames.”
“I like Bree.”
All the fears Bree had felt about coming here floated away. Ryder was solid and good and didn’t seem to care about her beauty or her uncertainty of how to conduct herself. She liked his vibe, and he was obviously an involved father and a nice guy. She didn’t envision herself fighting him off like she’d had to a few of her foster brothers and caretakers. She’d had counseling with her pastor her first year of college that had helped her put all of that junk in the past and turn it all over to her Savior, but she was still leery of men sometimes.
Ryder was studying her almost without blinking. It was like he was enthralled with what he was seeing, but not in a creepy, check-you-out kind of way.
“You have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen,” he murmured.
Bree nodded, suddenly uncomfortable and quickly questioning his vibe. This was going to be about her looks then? Yes, she’d noticed how handsome he was, and she knew he’d notice her face, but she needed to keep her distance. If only she knew how to act professional, while still being herself.
“I get that a lot,” she said.
He lifted his eyebrows. “And people say football players are overconfident.”
Bree shrugged and shifted in the chair. “It’s not something I’m proud of. I try to keep the hair big to draw attention away from my face.” She flipped her curly locks.
He chuckled. “Sorry, but I don’t think it’s working. Your hair frames your face and shows off your delicate bone structure, the smooth skin, your perfectly formed lips, and those big brown eyes …” He trailed off. “Forgive me, I don’t think any man could miss noticing your beauty.” His voice was deep and much too appealing.
Noticing her beauty, and what would that lead to? Her palms grew sweaty as she remembered far too many men complimenting her and then quickly trying to take it to the next level.
With that, she was out. She stood, not willing to risk being put in a situation where she’d have to fight off her employer’s advances. Especially in this intimate of a situation, only her, him, and a four-year-old.
“I’m sorry. I would love to work with your son, but I don’t think this is going to work.” She strode toward the doorway, cursing in her head, wondering if she was overreacting. Just because other men complimented her then went right to pushing boundaries didn’t necessarily mean Ryder would. If she left, how would she pay off her student loans and find Jasmine?
Ryder was in front of her so quickly she darted to the side to avoid running into him and Tate. Apparently, being a football cornerback made you faster than the Flash.
“Please.” He touched her arm, and the warmth that shot through her made her more uneasy than him saying how beautiful she was. He pulled his hand back quickly but stayed right in her space. He smelled like the most delicious musky, manly cologne she had ever smelled.
He stared down at her, his blue eyes beseeching her. “Please. Don’t leave. We need you.” He gestured to Tate who was watching her with those same blue eyes. The little man clung to his dad’s neck.
“You need me?” How did he need her? What exactly was he implying? His next words were going to make or break this interaction.
“Tate needs you.” He corrected himself. “I’ve tried everything.” His voice was full of desperation. “Every medical idea, traditional and otherwise—therapists, psychiatrists, foot zoning, acupuncture. Try watching your son being poked with needles, and you’ll know how desperate I am.”
Her heart went out to him. He hadn’t let the little guy out of his arms since she’d walked in and was obviously a devoted parent. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to allow an acupuncturist to work on his son.
“You’re my only hope. We need you here twenty-four hours a day, helping him, watching us, seeing what I can do better. I’ll do anything.” His voice cracked, and Bree saw behind the handsome, accomplished professional to a desperate, loving father who would do anything for his son, even if it meant humbling himself. “Your professor said you were top of your class, but it was more than that. She said you were empathetic, funny, and had been through hard things, but you’re still happy and full of life. We need … all of that. Please.”
Bree stared up at him, impressed, intrigued, and much too interested in him. “You need to back up a step so I can think.”
Ryder’s jaw tightened, but he nodded and backed up two huge steps. Bree took in some long breaths, which was much easier to do when she wasn’t inhaling his cologne. What was happening here? She wanted to help these two and she’d been taken in by Ryder’s impassioned plea. She needed the money and loved the challenge, but she didn’t know if she could remain impartial, professional, and detached. Especially being around them twenty-four hours a day like he’d just said. She focused on the adorable little boy. He stared unabashedly at her, just like his father was doing. There was a lot of intelligence in his eyes and a world of hurt and need. Was that why he wasn’t speaking? He missed his mother too much? Her heart cracked. She’d never had a mother of her own but ached for one all the same.
“If I do this, you have to swear to not cross any lines.” She planted her hands on her hips and threw Ryder a challenging glare.
“I can do that.” He nodded. “I’m not some playboy who throws himself at women. I can control myself around you, no matter how beautiful you are.”
He was as blunt as she was. Maybe that was for the best. At least, they would both know where they stood. The only problem was this underlying tension that was already getting under her skin. She was drawn to Ryder Quinn, and it would be tough to bury that attraction if she was with him a lot. Yet she couldn’t say no to helping this little boy. They needed her. Ryder saying that had touched her deeply.
She studied both of them for a few beats then strode to the chair and sat down. Ryder let out a loud breath and hurried back to his own chair. He sank down and resumed his gentle bouncing of Tate. The first thing Bree would have to work on was Ryder not coddling Tate. It was sweet but would stifle the child’s development. The little guy was over four years old, and she had yet to see Ryder set him down.
“Is he always this well behaved?” she asked.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
So he recognized that Tate was unusually docile. “What do you mean?”
Ryder pushed out a breath and kept bouncing the little boy. “Sometimes I can get a laugh out of him, but mostly, he just smiles and plays quietly with his toys or looks at books.”
“Has he ever spoken?”
“When he was little, he babbled and said his first words like any child. He’s so smart that by eighteen months he was talking in sentences. Then my wife died when he was three and a half.” He shook his head, his lips pressing together. “Not a word since.”
She nodded, her mind racing with similar scenarios she’d studied in school. Grief could break a body, even one so young that they couldn’t understand that they’d been broken. “And she’s been gone eight months?”
“Yes.”
Eight months. It wasn’t enough time to heal a battered heart. Bree wondered how Ryder handled all of this—losing his wife, being a single dad, and still succeeding at his career.
“I told you I’ve tried everything. You name, it I’ve tried it. His nanny, Lila, who’s been with us since Jessica died, retired last week. She and her husband are family friends, and they’re ‘off to see the world.’” He smiled, obviously he had fond feelings for Lila. “My brother Mack dealt with a speech impediment when he was younger, he gave me the idea of talking to the universities in the area and seeing if I could find … you.” He smiled kindly at her. “You’re an answer to my prayers.”
Bree stared at him. “You’re saying you’ll do anything to hire me?”
“Yes, I will.” His eye
s held her captive. “I told your professor a dollar figure, including a signing bonus and another bonus each time Tate makes progress. If you want more, it’s yours.”
She shook her head. “Your offer is more than generous.” It would change her life, and she could hire the P.I. she’d been dreaming of hiring. Peter Ormond promised he could find her sister, but he didn’t come cheap.
“Thank you.” He kept bouncing Tate on his knee as if it was instinctive and he didn’t even know he was doing it. “I know it’s a little unconventional to have a speech pathologist with a master’s degree being a nanny, but I want you to be so much more than a nanny for us …” He trailed off then gave her an irresistible smile. “That didn’t come out quite right. Please don’t try to leave again.”
Bree’s heart was thumping hard and fast. He had an alluring smile that she doubted any woman could resist. But she wasn’t a woman who fell for the hot jock. She couldn’t even count how many athletes had tried to snare her throughout high school and college.
“I don’t cook,” she said. There were a lot of other things she wasn’t willing to do either. Was it smart to put herself in this man’s house, in his power? She highly doubted the quintessential gentleman with the sweet little boy was going to force himself on her, but you never knew. People surprised her all the time.
He chuckled. “Neither do I. I have a maid service come in every morning, a grocery service brings in fresh food three times a week, and a chef brings in dinner every night. We keep breakfast and lunch simple. I don’t need you to cook.”
“What do you need me to do?” If he kept looking at her with that tempting glint in his blue eyes, she was going to have to storm out of here and move a lot quicker than she had last time.
“Get my son to talk.” It was raw and honest and tugged at her.
Bree swallowed hard. She had to be logical and not get emotionally invested in this handsome duo. She was being offered a solid six-figure salary with the bonuses on top of that. She could finally have the money she needed, find her sister, and once she finished this job, go help children wherever she wanted in the world. There was just one huge and desperate request. Figure out why this little boy wouldn’t speak.
She nodded, forcing a confidence she hoped she could back up. “I got this.” She tossed her spunky hair.
Relief washed over his face. He pulled the little guy in tighter. Tate turned to his dad and wrapped an arm around his neck. They were obviously close. Her initial assessment was they were too close, but she’d heard about the hours professional football players were gone in the regular season. Maybe they were just making up for lost time.
“I’m around a lot right now as we’re in the off-season, so it won’t be as demanding for you, but once July hits, I’ll be gone. Of course, I’d be happy to hire more help for evenings, weekends, and vacations so you don’t get burned out. Lila promised she’d come around when they’re in town to give you some days off when I’m in season. My siblings and parents show up sometimes and are great help. For the next few months, I can give you breaks whenever you need. In fact, I’ll be around most of the time. I spend several hours each morning working out. Sometimes, I have to go to meetings or do sponsorship stuff or commercials, but mostly, I’m here.”
“So I might have to kick you out to get some privacy?” It sounded very intimate, just the three of them in this gorgeous house. What would they do all day together?
“Yes, ma’am.” His blue eyes brightened, and Bree had the strangest feeling, like she was lightening his heavy load. She liked helping people, and being an answer to someone’s prayers certainly fit that bill. She’d heard a lot of lines from men, but she didn’t think his plea for help was a pick-up line.
“Let me show you the rest of the house and the suite you’ll be staying in.” He stood, cradling Tate in one well-defined arm. “Did you bring your things?”
She nodded, standing as well. “I’m hoping to call a tow service to dispose of my car.”
He glanced out the window and chuckled. “It’s nicer than the car I had in college.”
“Really? You must have had a pile o’ junk then. What’d you drive?”
He pointed down at his legs. “These guys. I never had a car.”
She laughed. “Luckily, your legs are speedy fast.”
“True.”
He gestured in front of him. “Shall we get your bags first?”
“Sure.”
They walked silently through the foyer, out the front door, and down the front porch steps. Bree popped her trunk and started reaching for her suitcases.
“Stop,” Ryder said, edging her out of the way with his arm. “My mama would cut my hands off if I let a lady carry her own bags.”
Bree planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not some helpless female, jock boy.”
Ryder lifted his free hand up. “I know, but it’s a respect thing, and it runs deep in my family. Please.” He studied her, not backing down.
Bree appreciated and liked gentlemen, but how was she going to remain professional and independent if he kept being so … cute didn’t work as he was far too sexy for cute, but he was definitely a good guy.
“For my mama, please.”
Bree stared at him and finally shook her head. “For your mama.” She would love to meet this mama who had ingrained manners and a respect for women so deeply in this man that he couldn’t let his new nanny pick up her own suitcases. She’d researched him and knew he had four other brothers and one sister, several of them were as well-known as Ryder in their respective careers. She wondered about his family and how often they stopped by.
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“How are you going to carry my bags holding the little man?” Bree thought it would be good for both of them to have Tate stand on his own two feet.
Ryder’s face tightened, and his eyes took on a panicked look. Would he hand Tate off to Bree? She had no objection to holding him. She adored children, but she was starting to wonder why his dad wouldn’t let him out of his arms. She knew from reading over all of the information on Tate that there was no physical impediment.
“No problem.” Ryder winked at his boy and spun him around onto his back. “Hold on tight, buddy.”
Tate let out a cute little giggle, the first sound Bree had heard him make. He clung to Ryder’s neck as Ryder, with his hands now free, grabbed Bree’s two heavy suitcases, shut the trunk with his elbow, and waited for Bree to walk in front of him before he started moving with his load. It was cute but confirmed Bree’s first thought. This dad was coddling his son. How was she going to help them both break the dependence without being the bad guy?
Chapter Two
Ryder followed Bree’s shapely legs up the grand staircase. Don’t look at her legs, he reprimanded himself. He’d gotten in enough trouble for saying something about her perfect face. He’d never been drawn in by a woman so quickly, and he couldn’t risk upsetting her and having her leave them. She was his last hope for helping Tate speak before he started kindergarten next year. His youngest brother, Mack, had been teased mercilessly when he stopped speaking because of embarrassment over a speech impediment when he was five. Ryder and his brothers had gotten into far too many fights defending Mack. He couldn’t stand the thought of Tate going through that at school, especially with no older brothers to stand up for him.
Tate’s hands were clasped so tightly around his neck he was choking him, but Ryder wouldn’t complain. He tried to keep his little man close as much as possible. Tate needed his dad, especially with Lila retiring.
Hopefully, his new nanny/speech pathologist would fill in the holes Tate had. Ryder couldn’t believe how gorgeous she was. She was tall and almost too thin, like a model, but her face was the thing that was really model-like. The fine bone structure, smooth chocolate skin, big brown eyes, and those lips. Wow. He didn’t know the last time he’d been that intrigued by a pair of lips. His wife, Jessica, had been a beautiful woman, but her grouchy attitude,
annoyance at everyone but their son, and hatred of her cancer had made her face more pinched throughout her short life. During that last, heartbreaking year, the only time Jessica had looked pretty to him was when she was with Tate.
He shook all that off and directed Bree around the wide second-story balcony to the left where the bedrooms were situated above the master suite.
The first two bedrooms were empty, guest suites for when his parents, siblings, or Lila and her husband might come stay. The third bedroom was ready for Bree. She walked in and turned to him with an arched brow. “I like it,” she said with that little sass he’d already come to appreciate. He smiled but held back the response he wanted to make—he liked her. He couldn’t go there. This woman had to help Tate, and she’d already made it abundantly clear she wanted Ryder to keep his distance, instructing him to not cross any lines. He couldn’t endanger Tate’s last chance for help.
The bedroom overlooked the yard, trees, and lake beyond. It had its own large bathroom and walk-in closet and was done in pale blues and bright white. He gratefully set her suitcases down then grabbed one of Tate’s legs and tugged him free of his neck. Tate laughed as Ryder let him swing upside down, hanging by one foot, before he threw him up into the air and caught him in his arms again. He grinned at his little boy. Tate framed his face with his hands and grinned back. Ryder felt complete when he had Tate in his arms. It was better than a game-changing interception.
If only Tate would say something, anything, but Ryder didn’t dwell on that. He loved his boy and didn’t need him to speak for him. He wanted him to speak so his son could have a future, express himself, and associate with people beyond his own family. Tate starting school next fall felt like a looming deadline. They’d tried the sign language route, but Tate wasn’t very interested and hadn’t made much progress. He mostly pointed and nodded or shook his head when he wanted something. The tough thing was he rarely asked much of anyone—eating whatever was put in front of him and playing with whatever toys were on hand. He was much too content and easy, and it worried Ryder.
Quinn Family Romance Collection Page 2