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When Axel speaks, it’s quietly, the lethal edge unmistakable. “Scare my baby again… and I’ll beat your asses into early retirement.”
Suddenly, it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop. A towel actually does drop, and I hear it. And yikes, that was an eyeful I wasn’t expecting.
A big guy with russet hair standing in the back mumbles about possibly misreading the situation, and a couple of the guys I’ve seen at the apartment whisper my name in hushed tones.
Fun Wrecker.
The elevator tries to close, but Axel has a foot blocking the door and the attention of every one of these players.
“This is my son, Otto.” He holds the carrier up so they can see in. “He’s the reason I’m taking the week off. And this is his nanny, Nora. She’s the reason I’ll be back on the ice in time for our game against Dallas. She belongs to Otto,so don’t even fucking think about it.”
I blink, turning to the caveman glaring at his best friends.
A couple of the guys are nodding, trying to get a closer look at the baby. Axel holds up a hand. “You can come over after practice next week. Bring him a present. Agoodone. And if Nora says it’s okay, you can hold him then too.”
He pulls his foot back and the doors glide closed. He pushes the button taking us up to three.
I stare. “Ibelongto Otto?”
He flinches and turns a wary eye my way. “Better there’s no misunderstanding. I’ve seen how they look at you. Now that they’re going to have access, I don’t want them making you uncomfortable with a bunch of bullshit player moves.”
How they look at me? Pretty sure they’ve only ever looked at me as the neighbor they irritate for sport. Same as Axel. Well, before this.
He lets out a low growl. “You’re not some puck bunny, not even the hot neighbor anymore. You’re Otto’s nanny, and there are rules about that sort of thing.”
Hot?I don’t quite know what to do with that. But then the elevator doors open at the third floor, and while there aren’t any half-naked hockey players, there’s a small crowd of professionally dressed men and women ready to pounce in the small reception area.
“We’re not through discussing this,” I grumble, following him out.
“I know.”
* * *
Axel
I’mno stranger to crowds calling my name during a game, or even the press of eager fans looking to shake my hand or score an autograph outside of one. It doesn’t get to me the way it gets to some guys.
But today is different.
I’m not being mobbed by people who want a piece of me, no. These are my friends and members of the organization I work for… and they want a piece of my kid. Which is freaking me the fuck out.
Everyone wants to hold him. Everyone wants to know about Nora. No one wants to be the one to come right out and ask about Otto’s mom, but everyone dances around it.
I’m starting to sweat when a deep voice rumbles through the space.
“Make a hole. Coming through.”
Nora looks up at me with a raised brow, and I chuckle, the tension easing as I nod toward the man, the myth, the legend. “Greg Baxter. He was our captain before he retired. Now he’s an assistant coach.”
“Axe, long time no see,” he says, cutting to the front of the group.
Baxter wasn’t the biggest guy on the team. Hell, I’ve probably got a good inch on him. But he’s commanding as fuck. A natural leader with a presence you can’t ignore.
And when he moves in to usher us out of reception, the crowd breaks up with smiles and well wishes.
“Coach, this is Nora Bennett. She’s helping me out with Otto while we’re getting settled.”
I shoot a look her way and score an appreciative-but-still-kind-of-pissed smile. I’m totally going to hear about that statement of ownership later, which is fine. The message to my teammates is out there, and that’s what matters.
