Game Changer: A Single Dad/Nanny Romance (Change of Hearts Book 1)

by Sierra Hill

  “Garrett, I’m on birth control. I should’ve let you know that.”

  I roll to my back, scrubbing a hand roughly over my forehead, my now flaccid dick plopping limply against my thigh.

  A metaphor for how quickly this could change the atmosphere between us and how easily it could deflate our working and living arrangement.

  “Totally my fault. I should’ve been more careful. I wasn’t thinking at all.”

  Brooklyn sits up, rooting around for her discarded clothes and reaching for the tissue box at the same time on the end table. Making quick work of the clean-up, she covers her nakedness and stands. I don’t move to help. In fact, I don’t move at all, I just cover my eyes with my arm.

  Not only has she flat-out knocked me on my ass, but I also don’t know how to proceed.

  Lucky for me, she reads through my bullshit and has concluded I’m an asshole and takes decisive action for the both of us.

  “I’m turning in. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As she walks down the hallway, the sound of her bare feet slapping against the tile floor, she stops and leaves me with one final word.

  “By the way. A Penelope Slattery called tonight. The message and her number are on the kitchen table. Goodnight, Garrett.”

  If I thought I was feeling uncomfortable the moment I came down from my orgasm, I was wrong.

  This bit of news takes the cake.

  The last thing I need in my life right now is the potential drama Penelope can bring into my world.

  And to Caleb’s.

  Because whatever she’s calling about, I know it can’t be good.

  18

  Brooklyn

  I’ve never been the one to get possessive or weirded out after sex. To me, it’s always been about chemistry, physical attraction and desire. Nothing more.

  I’m not sure what’s going on in Garrett’s head after the sex and our brief exchange of good night’s last night. The minute he pulled out of me and came on my belly, I sensed he got a little freaked out.

  Which is fine. I get it.

  I mean, that whole thing was unplanned, unscripted and completely unexpected. Maybe because of that, he got a little worried and compared it to what happened between him and Penelope.

  Yeah, I don’t know all the circumstances and facts behind it, but my Google sleuthing did account for a bit more information than I had before her call. It told me that Garrett knocked up someone that wasn’t his wife before he was married and had a kid with her. Caleb. And that’s definitely a story that leaves a lot to the imagination.

  And believe me, I formulated lots of crazy stories in my head last night as I laid in bed, tossing and turning over the sudden mood swing from Garrett. Determined to find out the scoop this morning, I get up early to go take care of Caleb and find they are already gone.

  Great. Just great.

  Well, avoiding tough discussions is not my style and as soon as he returns, we’re going to have ourselves a little come to Jesus discussion. He needs to know where I stand.

  Just because we had sex, doesn’t mean I want a relationship. Good grief, I don’t want to be settled down at this age. While I really like Garrett – and let’s be real – am super attracted to the man – I’m not here to find a boyfriend or future husband.

  I’m here to do a job. And in my opinion, if that job can come with some fringe benefits, even better.

  I make myself some coffee and then use the free time this morning to shower and run to the farmer’s market, picking up some fresh fruits, flowers, and vegetables, and then call Peyton to tell her I’m on my way over with goodies.

  When I let myself into my now subletted apartment, I find Peyton sitting on the kitchen table, her bare feet perched on the chest of a handsome guy in his early twenties, who I presume is the new roommate, Kyler. He’s painting her toenails a bright aquamarine color and neither of them looks up as I walk in and drop my bags on the counter.

  “Hey, girl.” Peyton finally twists her head over her shoulder and gives me a proper wave. “Get your ass in here and meet my new boy toy.”

  I laugh, connecting gazes with the man in question, who lifts his dark brows and shakes his head.

  “For the record, I am so much more than just a pretty boy. I have talents.”

  Peyton chimes in. “He’s right! He took your place in the kitchen, Brooklyn. This man knows how to cook.”

  I give Kyler a stern look of warning. “You be careful, Kyler. She will soon be using you to do her laundry, grocery shopping, and future homework assignments, as well.”

  Peyton has the sense to look offended, leaning over and giving Kyler a shove across the shoulder. “Don’t you listen to her, Kyler. She’s just jealous that I’m getting all this attention from you and she’s living with a man who is hands-off.”

  I clear my throat, stifling the truth. “Mmm-hmm. Tell yourself whatever you must, my friend.”

  Moving over to the table, I stand next to the two of them and offer my hand to Kyler.

  “Hi, Kyler. I’m Brooklyn, this witch’s former roommate. And it’s very debatable whether I’ll even come back with that sort of attitude.”

  I bend down and cover the side of my mouth with my other hand, speaking in a hushed, conspiratorial whisper. “Plus, she’s a slob, if you haven’t found that out by now.”

  Kyler busts out laughing and instead of shaking my hand, throws Peyton’s feet over the side and jumps up to wrap his arms around me in an unexpected hug.

  “Umph,” both Peyton and I say at the exact same time. She grumbles at losing her balance when he let go of her feet. And I practically had the wind knocked out of me with his exuberant hug.

  When Kyler lets go of me and stands back, he throws his arms out wide. “It’s so good to meet you, Brooklyn. I’ve heard so much about you from this little chatterbox. She’s told me some wild stories.”

  He waggles his eyebrows as a crease forms between mine. “I wouldn’t believe any of the bullshit she’s spilling. She’s full of it.”

  We all laugh as Peyton runs to the kitchen (more like waddles on her heels to keep her painted toes from getting smudged) and pours some mimosas while Kyler and I get to know each other.

  “Thank you so much for letting me crash here this summer. It helped me out of a tight bind. My ex and I broke up and he had the lease on the apartment, effectively kicking me out without any advance notice. And I don’t have a lot of money for a place of my own because I’m working to pay for school. I honestly wasn’t sure what I was going to do until Peyton offered this to me.”

  I frown. “That really sucks. I’m sorry to hear about your break-up. Were you together long?”

  Kyler’s vivid green eyes cloud over in a wash of sadness and my heart breaks for him. Regardless of whether I know him or not or his situation, we’ve all gone through complicated break-ups and sad relationship endings to empathize with each other.

  The thought brings Garrett to mind. I feel like I still know so little about him or his life, even though I’ve lived in his house for more than a month now, and have now even slept with him. God, just the flash of memory has me clenching my thighs together from the tingles it evokes.

  “Max and I started dating three years ago. I thought he was the one, ya know? He’s older than me, more mature. Settled. Had a good job and had no problems supporting me while I went to school. But the things we used to enjoy together seemed to diminish, and he became distant the last six months. He started going to the gym a lot and for hours at a time. I liked his new buff body but found out he was sharing it with someone else he’d met. When I confronted him on it, he gaslighted me, and made me feel like I was insane and making things up in my head.”

  He waves a hand and straightens his shoulders, his smile apologetic. “I’m sorry, Brooklyn. It’s so uncouth to overshare TMI after just meeting you. I’ll shut up now and let you tell me something personal.”

  He playfully zips up his mouth with his fingers as Peyton drops off the
mimosas for each of us and then drapes her arms over Kyler’s shoulders, joining in on the conversation.

  “Yeah, girl. Let’s hear it. Tell us about Garrett.”

  Oh geez. Nothing like being put on the spot the morning after you’ve just slept with your boss. I wiggle uncomfortably in my chair, trying to keep my poker face intact.

  “There’s really nothing too much to share. Except things are going really well and I absolutely adore Caleb.”

  I leave out the part about adoring my boss, too.

  Peyton twists her lips in a scrutinizing gesture but then seems to decide to let it go.

  She lifts her glass in a toast, and we follow suit. “Here’s to summer Sundays and oversharing.” She clinks her glass against Kyler’s and mine, and we move onto other safer topics.

  But that uncomfortable feeling remains, and I know I’ll need to confront Garrett either tonight or tomorrow at some point. In the meantime, I enjoy my brunch with my good friend and my newfound friend, Kyler, and let all the other shit wait until I’m ready to discuss it.

  “Oh my God, Brooklyn. Are you serious? He took you right there on the floor?”

  Several mimosas and Bloody Marys later, and after a huge brunch Kyler made for us out of the farm fresh produce and eggs I’d picked up, I begin to spill the beans and share what happened between me and Garrett last night.

  Kyler whistles from the kitchen where he’s even cleaning up our dishes (yeah, Peyton really lucked out with this temporary roommate) and Peyton’s mouth drops open at the acknowledgment of my confession.

  I feel my face turn hot and flushed. “Yeah, we just went at it without really considering any of the logistics or ramifications.”

  “What ramifications? He rammed you to an orgasm. Nothing more to consider, if you ask me,” Kyler muses without judgment from his spot in the kitchen. “I say, keep that shit going.”

  “Yeah,” pipes in Peyton, who to my knowledge, is still a virgin at twenty-one. “I don’t think there’s enough sex in the world and you should get it where you can without overanalyzing or second-guessing a good thing.”

  I lift my eyebrow sarcastically. “Oh really? Don’t over-analyze it? Just do it?”

  She frowns. “What? I don’t over-analyze things. It just hasn’t happened yet. It’s not my fault. Life just got in the way.”

  Kyler comes back in and refills all our drinks, patting a hand on Peyton’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. It’ll happen when it happens. There’s no rush. But since you’ve waited as long as you have, you might as well find someone who checks off all the boxes, you know? You can be picky.”

  She nods and I add, “Absolutely. Find someone who gives you all the feels.”

  Peyton snickers. “Like Garrett gives to you?”

  I roll my eyes and flip her off. “It’s awkward now. I don’t want it to be awkward. Plus, he’s my boss. What if he decides this isn’t good form and fires my ass?”

  “Oh please. He wouldn’t dare. You are irreplaceable. Plus, you’re both single and it was consensual. While it might make it a little awkward at first, he’ll get over it and you can move on.”

  There’s a silent pause as everyone chews over Kyler’s comment. And then he adds, “Unless neither of you wants to move on and you like playing house. Now there’s a fun role-playing activity right there.”

  He chuckles and turns on the dishwasher as I feel the weight of Peyton’s stare from across the table. Since first meeting her, Peyton has always had both a playful fun side and a serious side of her personality. She is adorably spunky, with a quick wit and devastatingly good looks, and dresses like a fashion model, which make her fun to be around.

  She can be the life of the party. But she can also be intuitive, with a distrustful view when it comes to men.

  She stares at me in thoughtful silence, questions floating behind her bright blue eyes and the black-framed glasses she wears.

  “Go ahead, spit it out,” I prompt.

  “I know I teased you about the horny single dad and nanny scenario, but I’m also seriously concerned. It sounds like Coach Parker has some emotional baggage from what he’s been through and I don’t want you to get embroiled in that. You have a lot to accomplish in the next two years with grad school and your thesis. You don’t need to take on some older dude’s life’s problems, do you, Brook?”

  I give a humorless laugh, picturing Eros, the mythological Greek god, shooting his arrows of love and passion down at Garrett and me, tasing us with his potions and then leaving us to deal with all the conflict and chaotic aftermath.

  I groan, throwing my head down dramatically on my hands on the table.

  “I love what I’m doing with Caleb. I feel I’ve already made progress with him and I can’t even tell you how happy it makes me. To see that boy smile is just…such an incredible gift. But then Garrett…”

  Peyton leans her chin on her palm, sighing dreamily.

  “Exactly,” I point out, lifting my head and shooting her a grimace. “I don’t know how I’m going to look at him again and not remember what he did to me. He turned me freaking inside out. But in the process, I think it freaked him out.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you turned all clingy and possessive. That’s not your style.”

  I shrug a shoulder, as Peyton and I head to the couches in the living room.

  “I know. It’s not me. It’s whatever he’s been through and experienced that’s left him with a bad aftertaste.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll have an opportunity to talk it through and he’ll figure out what he wants.”

  Kyler plops down next to me on the couch, shifting on his hip to give me an appraising glance.

  “Speaking of aftertaste,” he coughs in his closed fist, his eyes lighting with a degree of mischief. “Let’s go raid Peyton’s wardrobe and see what we can do about this.”

  With a flourish of his hand over my athletic-wear covered body, he yanks me by the hand and drags me toward the bedroom, as I stare helplessly behind me at Peyton, whose only response is to throw herself on the couch and laugh.

  Some friends I have.

  19

  Garrett

  My mother called me bright and early this morning informing me that she was at the airport and ready to be picked up.

  What, now?

  When I asked her what the hell she was talking about, she gave me the third degree over never listening to her and that she told me a month ago she’d booked her trip down to see me and Caleb. A month ago?

  Okay, she was right. I checked my calendar and lo and behold, there it was. Honest to God, I’ve been so busy these past four weeks, with hiring Brooklyn, starting the summer training camp and keeping things moderated with Caleb, I completely spaced it.

  And being as sleep deprived as I was after not sleeping a wink last night, and out of the blue call from Penelope, who could blame me for forgetting to pick up my mother? I was a little more than frazzled.

  To add insult to injury, my lackluster greeting of my mother at the baggage carousel was met with a tsking noise, followed by a “You look tired, Garrett,” comment from mom.

  As I load up her three bags into the back of my Range Rover, she kisses and hugs Caleb with her grandmotherly affection and leaves me with a pat on the back. Really, mom? That’s what I get for scrambling out of bed to pick you up?

  Let’s just say our mother/son bond has been fraught with disapproval since I was a young boy. I could never do right in my mother’s eyes.

  “You really need to take better care of yourself, Garrett,” she admonishes as I shift in reverse and we pull out of the airport parking, her judgmental tone already grating on my last nerve. “How else are you going to attract a lady friend looking like a worn-out old man? You’re not making the big bank like you used to.”

  My patience is already wearing thin and she’s only been here for less than thirty minutes. We’re not too far out of Sky Harbor that I consider turning right back around and dr
opping her back off. But I take a calming breath, instead, because I know it will be good for Caleb to spend time with his grandmother.

  I groan internally. I know my mother loves me, and I her, but our personalities couldn’t be more different. In fact, she always had a softer spot for my younger brother, Thad, made only twice as evident after he died so young from spinal cancer. But even their relationship suffered when Thad, while still in college, married his wife, Addison. No one was good enough for her perfect, handsome youngest son. And then came the announcement she was pregnant, followed by the very fast death soon after their first wedding anniversary.

  My mother is close to Addison and my nephew, Wyatt, though, even if Addison did move out to Boston around the same time Caleb and I moved down to Phoenix. I do feel bad about how my mom felt abandoned by her own family and ‘never gets to see her grandsons.’

  A lump of guilt forms in my throat as I think about all the times I should’ve reached out and checked up on my former sister-in-law, Addie. We’ve both suffered such indescribable loss in our lives, and we are both raising our young boys single-handedly. If anyone understands the pain and grief I’ve gone through, and the discomfort associated with starting over, it would be Addie.

  I don’t blame Addison at all for the change in scenery she required during the darkest days of her life. In essence, I did the very same thing, moving from Indiana to Phoenix after Becca’s death. And I do hate that it took us farther from my mother, but I’ve always insisted she could come down to visit whenever she wanted. Obviously, she has no problems with that at all.

  “How have things been going this summer, sweetie? Is the new nanny working out okay for you?” My mother peers over her shoulder into the back seat, checking on Caleb and seeing that he’s already dozed off.

  I nearly swallow my tongue at the mention of Brooklyn. With a stealthy side-eyed glance, I wonder if my mom detects something is already up with us, wondering how I’ll skirt around the issue with her while my mother is here.

  “Yeah, she’s great. Caleb loves her and we’re seeing a lot of progress being made with her help. She’s been working on speech and enunciation and even the speech therapist has noticed a difference. She’s a great nanny.”