Page 10 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

I muster a casual smile, masking the mayhem inside. “Of course, Tyberius, it’s the least we could do for the captain of the team,” I reply, striving for a tone of nonchalance.

“Call me Ty,” he says, waving his phone. “Text if you need anything. I wish I could tell you where the emergency numbers are, but you know this area better than me.”

I smile at him, he seems flustered, nervous or . . . who knows. “She’ll be fine, Ty,” I assure him.

“Be good to Indigo, pumpkin,” he instructs, his hand gently tousling her hair tenderly.

Myra nods vigorously, bouncing on her tiptoes. “I will, Daddy.” She then turns and scampers up the stairs as he strides toward the garage, the door clicking shut behind him.

Their departure leaves me alone with the big, bad wolf himself—or at least, the memory of him that I can’t seem to shake. Tyberius Nolan Brynes. Even his name seems darkly thrilling as it rolls off my tongue. He had stood over me—all six-foot-three of solid muscle. I’m a tiny five-foot-two in comparison. He could easily pick me up and toss me over his shoulder . . . maybe push me against the wall and . . . I mentally chastise myself, trying to control these vivid daydreams.

But it’s almost impossible not to want him. There’s something about the rugged, masculine outline of his figure that commands attention—the well-defined jawline, those prominent cheekbones, and a nose that’s straight and perfectly proportioned beneath a strong brow.

His hair, tousled yet styled with effortless care, carries streaks of light brown softened by sun-kissed blond highlights. It makes me want to run a hand through his hair. The short, full beard and mustache framing his lips add to his carefree, yet deliberately rugged appearance.

The thought of feeling the rough texture of his beard against my skin when he goes down on me sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

Fuck, what is wrong with me?

Nothing, mind you, I wouldn’t mind the razor burn, especially if he makes me come hard.

What I wouldn’t give to see him naked?

“Focus,” I scold myself, the stern inner voice attempting to break the spell.

This is exactly why you shouldn’t have agreed to take this job when Jude offered it—by which I mean being his right-hand woman while he started the team. I shouldn’t be around hockey players. They’re obviously my kryptonite. The last time I let one in, he broke me. Now . . . I can’t afford to be close to Tyberius, who seems to be my type.

Tall, mysterious, and dangerous.

Yep. Tyberius Brynes is most definitely dangerous in far too many ways. I need to find a new nanny now and get as far away from him as possible.

Before I do something very stupid, like fall for him because he seems like a good father or . . . I find myself biting my lip, anxiety beginning to spiral within me.

My heart races uncontrollably, heralding the onset of panic. Breathing becomes difficult, each breath more strained than the last. My hands start to shake, and reality seems to slip away from me. Tyberius shouldn’t have this effect on me, his complex life and burdens shouldn’t make my heart race this way.

Just when the panic threatens to overwhelm me, a gentle voice pierces through the haze. “Umm, Indie?” It’s Myra. “Over here.”

Right, I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I have a responsibility. My attraction for her father and everything that it entails doesn’t matter. What happened in the past was after all my fault and if this time I’m careful enough nothing will happen to me. Nothing.

“Why don’t you come upstairs? We didn’t pick out my shoes for today yet,” she prompts me.

I snap back to reality, meeting her wide green eyes that remind me so much of her father’s. Shoes. Right, we forgot about that.

“Of course, sweetie,” I say, plastering a smile on my face when I find her in front of me.

How did I miss this? I need to be more careful with my thoughts and what I’m doing around her. I can’t lose my shit in front of her. I simply can’t.

“Let’s go find you some fabulous shoes, and after that . . .” I tap my chin, racking my brain for how I’ll possibly occupy Myra for the next hour while I try to calm down.

“We can watch TV or play video games after. Gemma and I always do that before school,” Myra says brightly, though I suspect she’s not being entirely honest.

I also wonder who this Gemma is—her dad’s girlfriend? The nanny? I really should have gotten a crash course on Myra before Tyberius rushed out the door.

“Well, since you and I are still getting to know each other, I think it’s best if we spend some time bonding,” I suggest, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Plus, we should wash the dishes and tidy up your room before I drive you to school.”

Myra’s face falls into a pout. “But that’s not how Gemma does things with me.”

I give her a patient smile. “I understand, sweetie. Usually, my niece Cora would be asking me to braid her hair before school. I certainly don’t expect you to request the same. I know you two are very different people.”

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