Page 8 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

Tossing a coy smile over her shoulder, she makes her way down the hall with the comfortable familiarity of someone who owns the place. I remain rooted in bewildered silence, pulse kicking against my will.

“You coming?” She has the audacity to ask.

I blink, momentarily speechless as she makes herself at home. Clearly, Indigo Walker is a force of nature—direct yet playful. I stride after her, sternly ignoring the charm she exudes so effortlessly. We have more important matters to address. I can handle keeping things strictly professional.

“Sulking is part of the job when you’re a single dad and your nanny quits,” I retort, regaining some equilibrium.

Indigo laughs again, the vibrant sound filling the foyer. “Well, consider your sulking days over. I’m here now and ready to handle things.” She pauses, glancing around inquisitively. “So where’s Myra? Time is precious, Brynes.”

“Upstairs, probably turning her room into an art studio or rogue science lab by now,” I reply, the tension easing from my shoulders. Because maybe, just maybe, the day won’t be a disaster after all.

Indigo nods decisively, a plan clearly brewing behind those intelligent eyes. “Perfect. We’ll tidy up, fuel up on pancakes, then get her to school. Maybe when I pick her up, we’ll have some ice cream because I was raised by a woman who says that since it has milk, it’s good for you.”

I can’t help but chuckle because she’s definitely going to get along with Myra. “I have a feeling you two will get along dangerously well.”

Indigo’s eyes glint. “Well, then, time for introductions.”

Chapter Five

Tyberius

As I lead Indigo upstairs to introduce her to Myra, I can’t shake the odd feeling that Jude might have just saved more than my day. He may have brought an unstoppable force named Indigo Walker crashing into our lives, and suddenly, the future seems less daunting.

We reach Myra’s door and I brace myself, unsure of what to expect. I push the door open wider, and unsurprisingly there it is, the aftermath of Myra’s attempt to dress herself. Nearly her entire wardrobe lies scattered across the carpet.

This is one of the things Gemma did for us. She would pick out her clothes first thing in the morning before breakfast. We had no debates and no second guesses. Now . . . she might spend the entire day just trying to decide if it’s a dress or a leggings kind of day.

Myra looks up, her gaze shifting from me to Indigo, and for a moment, there’s a silence filled with appraisal.

“Hi, I’m Myra Brynes. Who are you?” Myra’s voice cuts through the room, her tone as if she’s interviewing a new candidate for a very important position in her almost six-year-old life.

“This is Indigo,” I start, glancing at Indigo, hoping she picks up on the cue. “She’s going to hang out with you while we find you a new nanny.”

Indigo steps forward, a smile playing on her lips. “Hey, there, Myra. I’m Indie. I’m here to make sure we have a fun day together. How does that sound?”

Myra scrutinizes Indigo for a moment longer. “Do you like My Little Ponies?” she finally asks. “They’re my favorite, except for baby unicorns. Those are the bestesests.”

“The best,” I correct her while Indigo pretends to debate her answer.

“I used to watch the show while growing up, but I’ve lost track of the new ones,” she admits. “Baby unicorns are super cute just like Pegasi. My personal favorites are axolotls.”

Myra gives her a sharp nod and smiles then asks, “Can you help me pick what to wear? I can’t decide if I want to dress for the ice rink . . . or maybe we can just skip all that and go to Grandma’s house in Florida.”

Indigo laughs easily, picking her way through the tornado of clothes. “Well, Florida sounds fun, but how about we just focus on school today?” she suggests diplomatically. “I happen to be great at outfit picking. Sometimes I even design dresses with my sister—she’s a fashion designer.”

Myra’s eyes light up. “Can she make me a dress for my birthday?” she requests, then glances at me. “That could be my present, and then we’ll move back to Florida, Daddy.”

Indigo glances at me, as if looking for a clue about Florida. I shrug because she just came up with that earlier today.

“I’m pretty sure Lyric, my sister, can help us with your birthday dress,” Indie states. “Why don’t we focus on today, though?” Indigo replies, winking at Myra.

They dive back into the piles of clothing, and I watch amazed as Indigo expertly engages Myra, navigating her strong will rather than dictating. Before long, they’ve compromised on the perfect outfit—a sparkly purple tulle skirt paired with Myra’s favorite hockey jersey, rainbow leggings peeking out the bottom. Mismatched unicorn socks climb her calves.

And for the first time since the nanny quit, I feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

“All set,” Indigo announces, standing with a grin. Myra twirls happily, giggling as her skirt spins out.

Indigo winks at me over Myra’s head. “Now, who wants my world-famous celebration pancakes?”

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