Page 6 of The Perfect Snipe

Wyatt raises both hands in the air. “No. That’s not what I did. Look, the buffoon’s nanny quit on him. His mom has been helping watch the kids. But she’s . . . difficult. He needs help with them and has an extra room so you won’t have to sleep on a couch. It’s a win-win.”

Leo grunts and nods.

My own room. Doesn't sound so bad. It's certainly better than sleeping on the couch for the next five months. The idea is tempting, I have to admit. A real bed, privacy, not feeling like I'm intruding on Nora and Wyatt's life.

But then again, moving in with a virtual stranger? Even if he is Wyatt's friend and teammate?

It’s a risk, sure, but if it doesn’t work out, I can always move back in with Nora. And it’s not about Leo anyway, it’s about his kids.

Leaning back into the plush cushions, I cross my arms and meet Leo’s gaze. “Okay, I’m listening. What exactly is it you need?”

Chapter 3

Leo

Still can’t believe Catharina is moving in, that she agreed to help with my kids. Not that she hadn’t before. But that was different, being it was always because she was helping with Jake. This time, she’ll be living with me. In my house until the end of the season.

Well, until the end of the school year. That was the agreement we made. This way she doesn’t have to worry about housing when work gets crazy with state testing, grades, and paperwork.

But I trust her to have Stella’s and Mason’s best interests at heart. I don’t worry about being away with them in her care. I know her, sort of. More than I would a random nanny. And she won’t meddle in my life, offering unwanted advice the way my mother does.

So it works out.

My footsteps echo softly on the hardwood floors as I move from room to room, double-checking every detail, the freshscent of lemon cleaner lingering in the air. Everything’s in order. Clean. Organized.

No sooner do I complete a final sweep of the main floor when the doorbell rings. She’s here. Why am I sweating?

Wiping my hands on my joggers, I walk toward the front door, then answer it. The side of my mouth twitches. It’s always odd whenever we interact that I have to look down at her. She’s tiny. “Can’t believe you agreed to help.”

She pulls her jacket tighter around her, a gust of cold air rushing past her and into the house. “Yeah, well. I’m kind of tired listening to Wyatt all day long. At least you don’t talk as much.”

I grunt in agreement, still standing in the doorway. A moment passes and she pulls in tighter on herself, her breath visible in the frigid air. Dammit. It's freezing outside and I'm a dumbass. “Come in.”

I grab her bags without a word and head toward the guest room. “The room’s this way.”

We walk through the living room, then down the hall to where she’ll be sleeping. Figured having her on the first floor would give her more privacy and maintain mine.

I place the bags down on the corner by the windows, then cross my arms and lean against the wall. “Kids’ rooms are upstairs. Mine too.”

Cat unzips her jacket, then pulls her knit hat off. Her thick, wavy hair, slightly static, frames her face. “Are you going to give me a tour or am I just supposed to figure it out as I go?”

I scratch the stubble growing on my chin. The rough texture grounds me, giving my hands something to do. “Got a point.”

She pulls off her jacket and places it on the bed. My eyes drift over the light pink sweater she’s wearing right to her perky breasts. Shit. Can’t go there. This is a business deal, andCatharina is off limits. I force my gaze back to her face, hoping she didn't notice my momentary lapse.

After she agreed to help with the kids, Wyatt made sure in no uncertain terms I understood I was to keep my hands to myself. Then he busted out laughing along with Ian. Yeah, the two found it hysterical once the threat left Wyatt’s mouth because I don’t date.

As far as they’re aware, I’ve been a loner. Not that anyone needs to know my business. Like how I only hook up at away games. I have needs . . . just don’t want the headache of someone wanting more. It’s my way of making sure things stay as a one night stand, not that I fuck often.

Sometimes, I think I have a problem because getting off is nothing more than an itch to be scratched. But when Wendy died, so did something inside of me. Some feelings or emotions.

“You just going to stand there or are you going to show me around?” Cat quirks a brow, her tone playful but with an edge of impatience.

“Yeah, this way.” I push off the wall, leading her out of the room.

We walk back out into the hall, and I point toward the end of it. “On the right side is a full bathroom. That’ll be yours. On the left side is the linen closet, so extra towels and stuff are there.”

She nods and we head toward the living room, then into the kitchen. “There’s an alarm on the double French doors. Make sure you turn it off in the morning or you’ll wake the whole house.”

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