Page 51 of Foster

I dive deep into my family, having no choice because for every tidbit I give him, he has follow-up questions. He’s so engaged, so interested in learning about me, it casts Foster in a different light. He’s no longer just the nice, gorgeous hockey player who has my interest, he’s a man who’s proving himself to be a genuinely good human being. And tonight, he’s showing just how into me he is. It’s flattery that goes beyond mere compliments. It’s the type of attention that says, you are beyond worthy of my notice.

I feel a connection that stretches beyond our usual roles, a spark of something new and exciting. It’s as if we’re seeing each other for the first time, not as employer and nanny, but as Mazzy and Foster, two people on the edge of something wonderful.

The net effect is that I’m hooked. I wasn’t sure how this date would go and if there would be anything other than intense attraction and mutual admiration. Before we’re even done with the meal, I know this is a guy I could fall hard for.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would be flying high with the possibilities, but I can’t help but worry if we’re doing the right thing because we have Bowie Jane to consider. Even if by all accounts she’s fine with this and it is actually good for her, I can’t help but worry what the toll would be if Foster and I didn’t work out, if this thing fizzles before it really starts.

Which means that no matter how much I want to see where this goes, I have to make sure I’m seeing clearly and proceeding with some measure of caution.

CHAPTER 20

Foster

As I pull into the garage, Mazzy is still doubled over, laughing hysterically about a story from my childhood. It involved my older sister, Marisol, using a Sharpie to color a goatee and thick eyebrows on me while I slept. She’s eight years older than me and was babysitting on a school night as my parents were out of town at a convention.

“I can just imagine you,” she chortles, wiping under her eye with her forefinger, “walking into school looking like that. I think your sister might be my hero.”

“I can laugh about it now but damn if I wasn’t humiliated by it.”

Mazzy breaks out into peals of laughter again, which makes me grin. We only drank the one bottle of wine, but apparently two glasses makes Mazzy very buzzed.

I knew she’d enjoy the story because like her own experience, I’m also close to my family. Marisol was mature enough to watch over me when our parents traveled for business. I was pissed at her about something and told her boyfriend that she practiced kissing him in the mirror. It was a school night and without hard-core direction, I wasn’t the best at getting myself ready in the morning. Marisol knew that and didn’t hound me to brush my teeth, which probably would have facilitated me looking in the mirror to see the Sharpie all over my face.

But no.

She walked me all the way to school… five blocks of passing people and not seeing the funny looks on their faces all because I told her boyfriend her secret. I should have known by the gleam in her eye as she gave me a pat on the head and wished me good luck as I walked into the school.

“Did she get in trouble?” Mazzy asks.

I turn off the truck and glance over at her. She looks fucking stunning with her eyes all glimmering from laughter, face flushed from the wine. “Oh yeah… got in big trouble with my parents but if you ask her, to this day, what her greatest accomplishment in life was, she’ll point back to that and say it was in the top five.”

“I love her,” Mazzy exclaims.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. She’ll come to some home games when her schedule allows, as will my parents.”

Marisol is an international flight attendant and my parents are professional speakers who travel the country talking about leadership, customer service and organizational performance.

Mazzy grabs the truck handle, swings the door open and slides free. I note the slight, tipsy bobble in her step, but she manages to meet me around the front and I follow her up the few short stairs into the kitchen.

We had decided prior to our date that she was going to stay at the house tonight because I have an early workout scheduled with some of my teammates. It’s why I picked her up at her bedroom door although I plan to bestow a good-night kiss no farther than the base of the stairs.

Mazzy precedes me in and I chuckle when she dumps her purse on the counter before leaning against it to remove first one high heel, then the next.

She sighs in relief as she sinks down to the tile floor, giving me a playful smile. “So happy to have those off my feet.”

“Those shoes look like they’d hurt,” I muse as I drop my keys and phone next to her purse.

“Oh, they don’t hurt,” she says with a tinkling laugh. “They’re just hard to walk in when I have a buzz.”

I shrug out of my suit jacket, placing it across one of the stools, and give her a mocking smirk. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight.”

“Never been a big drinker,” she replies, turning to face me with her arm resting on the countertop. No more than a foot separates us, and she has to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “But I can resoundingly say I like the way two glasses of wine makes me feel.”

The way she’s staring at me with her eyes full of mischief emboldens me. “Feel good enough to let me kiss you?”

“Pick back up where we started in your bathroom?”

She moves a few inches closer and I don’t feel an ounce of remorse when my eyes stray down past her face to her cleavage. I’d managed to ignore it all night as the conversation was so good, but right now?

---