Page 43 of Hockey Nanny

She tilted her head. “Well?”

“You look…” I shook my head, then tried again. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“Thanks. You have a good eye.”

And I stood there in my perfectly tailored tux, feeling a little less than that, fully aware that whatever wall I’d built around myself had just taken a serious hit.

“Ready to go?” I asked, checking my watch again before I could stop myself.

Carissa smiled, entirely too calm for someone who had just upended my equilibrium. “I just need twenty minutes to finish up.”

“What?”

Her laugh burst free, bright and unapologetic, as she stepped past me into the hallway. “You should see your face right now.”

I turned to follow her, watching as she took the stairs with infuriating ease, one hand trailing the banister, dress moving with every dip and curve of her body. This woman was going to be the death of me. If I wasn’t sure of it before, there was no denying it now.

The limo waited at the curb, black and glossy under the streetlights. I opened the door for her, and she paused before getting in.

“Are Boone and Gage riding with us?”

“No,” I said. “Boone’s giving the party a skip. He wanted to put in some extra training at the rink.”

Her brows pulled together. Just slightly. Enough that I caught it. “Extra training? On a bye week?”

Something unpleasant stirred in my chest. I told myself it was nothing. That it didn’t matter. That I wasn’t about to read into a reaction that could mean a dozen different things. Still, I heard myself add, “It couldn’t hurt with the way he’s been slacking lately.”

The joke landed flat, which didn’t help the rabid claws raking over my chest.

“What about Gage?”

“Sitter bailed, so he’s staying home with Henry,” I said, and tapped the car door.

Her shoulders tensed. “See, that sucks. I’m the nanny. You shouldn’t have to get a sitter, and he shouldn’t have to miss out on the party because of it.”

“We could stand out here all night debating it,” I said, impatience creeping in before I could rein it back. “But it’s not like either of them are missing a big game. It’s a party. One that I think both of us could use, don’t you think?”

Her gaze searched my face, guilt warring with something else I couldn’t name. She hesitated, fingers curling against the edge of the open door.

I softened my tone. “Come on. We were doing so well. Dress acquired. Shoes on. No casualties. Let’s not let it all fall apart now.”

That did it.

She laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders as she slid into the back of the limo. “Fine. But if Henry decides to mutiny tomorrow, that’s on you.”

“I’ll take the blame,” I said, sliding in beside her.

*

The limo eased to a stop beneath Mandalay Bay’s glow. I stepped out first, taking in the gold light along the sidewalk. Carissa followed, careful, almost hesitant. That’s when the noise hit.

Cameras flashing, voices folding over each other, the kind of heat that made me feel totally exposed in front of a horde of strangers. Reporters were already leaning in, microphones thrust forward. My name. Her name. Questions fired like bullets, the most common one asking whether or not we were dating.

I tightened my grip on Carissa’s arm instinctively. She pressed in beside me, fingers gripping tight. I shifted, angling my body to shield her, feeling the push of dozens of lenses all around us.

Her hair caught a stray flash moving across her shoulders. I focused on that instead of the barrage. Not because I wanted to ignore the cameras. Because I wanted to keep her intact.

“The Foundation Room’s quieter. Don’t worry,” I muttered near her ear. “Only members allowed up there.”