It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep on the flight, and by the time Darcy woke me up, I realized, much to my dismay, that we were landing in Colorado.
“I tried waking you when they were handing out the meals,” the little girl exclaimed. “But you were dead!”
Darcy laughs at her own joke, and I open my eyes to see the last few seconds of the plane landing through the little round window to my right. I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t sleep much last night. Or, that I spent most of my time on the Internet searching for anything on her father that I could find. Once again, it amazes me how someone can come into your life one day, and then take over your body and mind the next.
“I must’ve been more tired than I realized.” I smile at her, ensuring they both still have their seatbelts on.
“Yeah,” Darcy says apologetically. “Sorry about that. You were waiting for Daddy to get home, weren’t you?”
I nod, then quickly change the conversation. I do not need to be broaching this subject with her. “Did you see any more movies?” I ask instead. That’s the last thing I remember doing before sleep took over, and part of me is disappointed that I slept through the whole flight. I’d never been on one before, and had only managed to occupy the kids with the in-flight entertainment before I’d stared out the window, mesmerized by the clouds, then fell into a deep sleep.
I’d meant to only close my eyes for a moment, but my mind had taken over, and I’d dreamed of Tristan, asking me up to his room and doing all sorts of sexy, erotic things to me.
The type that my father once said a girl like me should never want from a man like Tristan.
To be touched and not seen as just poor Faith, who lost her mom at a young age and works in a hardware store.
There was a time when I had the eye of every boy in school, when every girl aspired to follow in my footsteps. At least, until I lost my mother and withdrew from everything I loved, including hockey. I just couldn’t play at the level I’d been able to when she was alive.
She’d been so proud of me back then. Now, I wondered if she’d even be able to look me in the eye.
I feel like crying as I stand up and get the kids ready to leave the plane. My eyes dart ahead a few rows to Tristan. He’s looking at me, too.
I yearn to know what’s going through his mind. Was he on the flight thinking about me, the way I was thinking of him? Or, maybe this is all just something that’s going on in my mind. Maybe I’m delusional, and ridiculously naïve, and he just kissed me to make me want to stick around and look after his kids?
Either way, it worked. I wonder what kind of person that makes me. And the deal we struck—was that a delusion of mine, too? That I’ll ever bounce back and not just be able to play the game well, but adore it like I used to?
“Guys, are you ready?” I stare down at the two faces on either side of me.
They both nod, and it occurs to me again that they’re good kids. Sweet. And I need to focus on them. Tristan’s entrusted me to look after them, and I have to stop acting like a kid myself, with my head in the clouds. I can’t just look after them; I need to take good care of them. I know what it feels like to lose a mom, but in their case, they were too young to know her that well. It doesn’t make the pain go away, though, I’m sure.
I vow to try and make them feel cared about. They deserve that much. Even if I’m just with them for a few weeks, a lot can happen in a short amount of time. All I can do is try.
* * *
We arrive at the hotel, and check-in is a breeze to get through. I unpack the kids’ things after calling room service. Another one of those storybook moments, since I’ve only ever witnessed room service in the movies.
Once they’ve had something to eat, I have to admit, I’m at a loss as to what we should do next. We’re sitting in the room, and I realize then that Tristan didn’t give me clear instructions regarding extracurriculars. He’s busy, and I get that. He’d only stuck around long enough to make sure we got into the room okay before he was whisked off to a practice. I know he’ll get in touch when he’s able to, though, because I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even checked into his own hotel room, the one adjoining this one.
I stand, beginning to pace up and down the carpeted floor at the foot of the beds, trying to figure out ways to entertain the kids. One glance out the window gives me the answer I need.
Bingo!
I’ll take them to the pool. That should kill a few hours before Tristan shows back up. It was great getting into the room and getting things situated, which distracted me from all the thoughts of him that plagued me. Now, I need to keep him off my mind.
“Guys, I have an idea.” I clap my hands, which pulls their glazed eyes from the TV they’re watching, their mouths wide open as if they’re ready to catch flies.
“Why don’t we go to the pool? You’ve eaten over an hour ago now, and it’s better than being stuck in here watching boring old TV.”
I’m hoping for excited expressions, but Darcy just laughs. “It’s too cold outside. We want to watch TV.”
I sigh. “It’s not that bad. It’s warm here compared to Boston.”
She laughs again. “Anywhere is warmer than Boston. But, no, it’s too cold. We can’t go outside in the pool.”
I smile. “But they have an indoor pool. We can go there and have some fun. But if you guys want to stay in here, then that’s cool, too, I suppose.”
It takes ten minutes of deliberation for them to give me their final answer, but I could tell immediately that Ferguson wanted to go, and he has his shorts in his hand now, ready to go. It’s Darcy that over-contemplates it, trying to be the adult in this equation.
“Okay then, fine. Seeing as Ferguson’s so excited, let’s do it.” She sighs as if she can’t win. At least she’s reasonable and isn’t throwing a tantrum about not getting her way.
After a few more minutes, we’re ready and just about to head toward the elevators when I open the door and see Tristan standing on the other side.
He smiles. “Hi. Everything okay?”
I seem to be speechless whenever he’s around, so I just nod my head.
Darcy grins excitedly. “Daddy, we’re going to the pool.”
See, I knew she actually wanted to go.
Tristan side-steps out of the way. “That’s great. I was worried I abandoned you and that you’d be bored or something.”
Ferguson shakes his head. “Daddy, I’m going to swim like a fish!”
Tristan nods at him, but leans toward me, whispering, “He can’t swim.”
I give him a wry grin. “Darcy already warned me about that. I’ll make sure he’s safe.”
We lock eyes as I’m shutting the door. I can feel the heat between us again.
He’s so close to me. Too close.
Darcy bring us back to reality. “Dad, can you come with us?”
Tristan blinks, as though thinking about it, then shakes his head. “I would love to, but we have a meeting. I thought that before dinner, maybe we could meet up, then. And Faith can show me her moves.” He’s looking at me. “On the ice, I mean.”
Damn him and his cocky innuendo.
I nod my head, relieved he’s taking our deal seriously. In another way, though, I’m apprehensive. It’s been a long time since I donned a pair of skates. A long time.
“Sure, sounds good to me.” I say it a bit too enthusiastically. I’m fully aware that spending more time with him might be more than I bargained for, and that notion knots in my stomach tightly as well.
I grab both Ferguson and Darcy’s hands, and we head toward the elevators that’ll take us down to the pool. I’m sure that Tristan’s watching us walk away, and as I cast a glance over my shoulder and spot him, he’s smiling mischievously. I shouldn’t be so eager to get up close and personal with him later. But, so far, everything’s going as planned, and skating for the first time in a long time is something I find myself anticipating. Especially with him.
Chapter Eleven<
br />
Tristan
I don’t know what’s going on. The coach is talking, and the only thing I’m paying attention to is the fucking time. Counting down every minute until I get Faith on the ice.
This is insane. I don’t know the woman. I vowed never to be with another, and yet, she’s always on my mind.
I smile as I think about her in the pool in a sexy bikini. I doubt that’s what she’s wearing, being as modest as she is, but my mind has other plans. Shit, I wish I wasn’t in the conference room watching the last game Arizona played against Colorado. The footage is great, but I can’t concentrate on it.
Then, I hear the magic words. “Guys, we’ll go down to the arena later, to go through strategies.”
Everyone’s muttering and talking as we leave the room. I’m worried for a second that the coach might’ve noticed I wasn’t really paying attention, but he doesn’t say anything as I stand. I need to get my mind back on the upcoming game and as far from Faith’s sexy little body as possible. But it’s so fucking hard. Near enough to impossible.
I grab my phone. She’s sent a text, saying they’re out of the pool and back in the room. She says she’ll meet me in ten minutes at the reception desk. That’s music to my ears, and I grab my bag, intent on making my way out of the room.
The coach grabs my arm. “Everything okay? You were miles away, Wright.”
Shit, he did notice.
I smile. “Yeah, sorry, Coach. Just want to make sure the kids are okay.”
His eyebrow arches. “And that’s why you were smiling while I was showing the game footage?”
Fuck! He was watching me more than I realized. I need to focus, but Faith’s taking over my damn mind. And I’m letting her.
“Coach, cut me a break. I’m here. Playing better than before. What more can I do?”
He uses his two fingers and very nearly pokes my eyes out. I jerk my head back just in time.
“Focus!”
I quickly move away from him, not wanting to hear more lecturing. A couple of guys seem to want his attention, which saves me from more grilling, and I slip out the door.
I sigh as I head toward the reception desk, because I know he’s right. I need to stop thinking with my cock and start using my damn head.
But that idea comes to a dramatic end when Faith enters the reception area. Even in her simple yoga pants and fitted shirt, she takes my breath away. She’s a distraction, that’s for sure. One that I need to rid myself of if I’m going to be the star player in this next game.
It’s then that I notice the kids aren’t with her.
“Where are—”
She holds up a hand. “They’re fine. There’s a play area and a babysitting facility here. I asked if they wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on them for a couple of hours, so we can do this. You don’t mind, do you?”
So we can do this. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what kinds of delicious things she had in mind, but I swallow it back. I know what she means.
I shake my head, knowing that those kids would’ve kept me on the straight and narrow. But now, I’m going to be alone with Faith.
I can’t see how I’ll be able to control myself, but I know that I have to fucking try. After all, it’s only for a couple of hours.
* * *
Faith hasn’t stopped talking since we got here. I’m starting to think she’s even more nervous about all this than I am.
Luckily, there was equipment to be rented at the arena, so she was able to suit up in stuff that actually fit her to practice in.
“Are you sure you can skate?”
I can’t help but laugh as she tries to straighten up after falling yet again. She’s done that twice, and I’m just standing in the middle of the rink, waiting for her to join me.
“Yeah, I’m just really rusty.”
I nod my head, but she’s a mess. I didn’t think I came here to give her a skating lesson. I wanted to see her on the ice. But now…
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I skate closer to her. She’s shaking. “Faith? Are you okay?”
She shakes her head and then rips off her helmet. “I can’t do this.”
Tears are streaming down her face, and I wonder if maybe I was too harsh on her. Shit, I’m not good at this. I have no patience, whatsoever. The idea of teaching her anything makes me feel like I’m not the man for the job. And that’s exactly what went through my mind when she suggested it.
I remember trying to teach Darcy to ride a bike. That was a complete disaster. My own dad had to step in. I’m just not the sensitive kind of guy that can guide anyone step by step.
I take a deep breath, grabbing her hand as she starts heading off the ice.
“Look, I shouldn’t have laughed when you fell. I’m sorry.” I speak as softly as I can. “It’s just that you said you were preparing for a scholarship. Watching you like this, I find it hard to believe.”
She shakes her head, setting her helmet down on the ice.
“It’s not that.” She wipes at her eyes. “My mom played for Boston Pride.” She chuckles hollowly as her tears start to dry away. “She was the captain, like you.”
I nod. “So, she can train you, then. You don’t need me.”
She shakes her head again. “She’s dead, Tristan.” The words sound like sandpaper on her tongue. “All I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me. That’s why I put everything into hockey, and it’s just had the reverse effect. I’m no longer following in her footsteps. I’m falling away from them.”
A sad smile crosses my features, and I reach out to cup her face. “You’re too beautiful, and too passionate, to think of yourself as a failure, Faith. You just need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself.”
She sighs. “When I first started playing, I used to feel so damn powerful. Like everything was within my grasp. Including the puck. I had that in the palm of my hands. Then—”
I press my finger to her lips, my eyes locking with hers. “Remember that feeling, Faith, and let’s start again.” Despite my rational brain telling me I shouldn’t, I plant a delicate kiss on her cold, trembling lips.
Her eyelashes flutter, and a faint grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. I skate away from her, watching as she picks up her helmet and pushes it back on.
She’s not even the same person once she starts to skate this time. Gone is the nervous woman who was skating for the first time in years, replaced by a confident one, driven by the skills she’d once honed with hopes of using them in the future.
She’d be an excellent player, I can see that immediately, watching her every move as she follows my instructions down to the letter. The girl can skate.
But, each time I pass her the puck, it becomes evident where her weakness lies. She fails miserably to execute even the simplest shot, fumbling every pass I send her way.
“Faith! You need to focus. We’re going to take it from the top!”
I can hear her sigh, frustrated. But, after a moment, she nods her head, lowering her chin.
It’s getting time for us to head back to the hotel. I should tell her to stop, but she suddenly skates past me and, at last, she puts the biscuit in the basket.
It wasn’t just any goal, but a beautiful one. Her gloved hand rises in the air in triumph. She’s getting the hang of it, and she’s definitely got potential, if I do say so myself.
She isn’t the only one proud of her accomplishments. Maybe this teacher thing isn’t so bad, after all. And maybe that scholarship is more attainable than she thinks.
Chapter Twelve
Faith
Yesterday, I couldn’t have been more nervous about skating with Tristan. But, with the hotel’s babysitting service and him using his limited free time to practice with me, I feel like everything might start to fall into place. More than I ever thought it would.
I feel like a duck finally back in the water. It does come naturally to me. I’ve been fighting my ability to play—or inability, depending on how you look at it—so
damn much that it was painful at first. But now, I’m just excited about the whole thing.
I go back to the hotel, leaving Tristan at the arena. While I’m in the taxi, my phone rings. It’s my second day here, and I haven’t heard one word from Dad.
Until now.
“Dad, hey.” I smile. I’m happier than I have been in a long time, despite not scoring a goal during today’s short practice, and I hope he can hear it in my voice.
“Faith. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
I nod. “Good, actually. The kids are little angels, to be honest. And Tristan’s sticking to his word, helping me out. He even said that maybe a recommendation from him would go a long way in my application to school.”
“What about payment?” he asks briskly. “You never did say how much he’s going to pay you. Or when.”
My brows furrow. I’m not expecting that to be the first thing out of his mouth. It’s obvious he didn’t call to ask how I’m doing. He just wants to know how much I’ll be sending him.
“Tristan says he’ll be paying me $10,000 per month, because I’m not that experienced. His words, not mine. Isn’t that incredible? The other nanny was getting—”
“When will he pay you?”
I clear my throat, standing outside the hotel. I’m putting this conversation down to Dad being stressed, because he doesn’t sound like himself. It’s not like him to cut to the chase and ask me about money. Something’s wrong. I steel myself to ask what’s happened, because I don’t think he’s in the mood for small talk. But, I have the right to know before I divulge more. “Dad, what’s happened?”
He sighs, and the ornery quality in his tone is gone. “The bank’s closing down the store, Faith. I’m…”
I feel as if my heart’s thumping out of control, waiting for him to say more. But he lets whatever he was going to say drift off.
The store. The one he started up when Mom retired from hockey, so they’d both have something to work on together. I can’t believe he didn’t talk to me about this earlier. Why leave it until today? When it’s too late?
Puck Daddy: A Bad Boy Hockey Romance Page 5