Page 58 of The Stick Handler

“You okay?” he asks

I push crumbs off a chair and drop into it. “Not really.”

He sits next to me and puts his hand on my knee. “Sucks for Daisy, huh?”

“Poor little girl.” I fight back tears, thinking of my own childhood. At least I had Zander. He was my best friend growing up. It was always us against the world. He took such great care of me, and still tries to. Often, I have to remind him I’m a grown woman now, but I get his sense of duty to me. It couldn’t have been easy for him to step into the role of mother at the tender age of four. Dad was never too right in the head after Mom left, working odd jobs to put food on the table. Most times it was just cereal. I guess he did the best he could at the time. Now we’re the ones taking care of him. Smoking finally caught up to him, and he’s battling lung cancer.

“He’ll do the right thing, Quinn. He’s a good guy. This just caught him off guard. I probably would have reacted the same way.”

I blink up at my brother. “Do you think the baby is his?”

“Shari said it was. Why would she lie about something like that?”

“She sleeps around, Zander. It could be anyone’s child.”

“I know, but she said the condom broke when she was with Jonah, and the timing is right.” My brother goes quiet for a second and looks down, like that thought disturbs him. Like he might have had a broken condom a time or two. Is it possible that he has kids out there that he doesn’t know about?

“He’s going to need a nanny to help out. He can’t bring a baby to Seattle when you guys return for training, or take her on the road with him when you travel,” I say, understanding hockey is Jonah’s life. He might be a selfish prick, but I’d never want to see him kept from playing the game he loves—the only real thing he loves. I personally know how hard both he and my brother worked to get to where they are now. Talent is one thing, but the passion they both have, the drive, the hours they spend training, that’s something else altogether, something admirable.

“Yeah. I know,” Zander says. “Do you know any good ones?”

“Unfortunately, no. I can put out some feelers at the daycare and help him interview, though. I want to make sure Daisy gets the best.”

“Interview for what?”

We both look up to see Jonah standing in the doorway.

“A nanny,” I say, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to shoot down the idea. Likely because he still can’t accept that the baby is his. I glare at him, and his lips pinch tight. “It will take time to find the right person. Weeks maybe.”

Jonah rakes his hands through his mussed hair. “Shit.” Dark brown eyes lock on mine, and I brace myself because I know what’s coming next. “Quinn, do you think you can stay the night to help me?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to leave Daisy alone. Poor little girl has been traumatized enough.”

“Thanks,” he says, and Zander squeezes my knee.

I turn back to him. “Go easy on him, Quinn,” he says, loud enough for Jonah to hear. “He’s terrified.”

I angle my head, let my gaze roam over Jonah’s face, his tense posture.

Jesus, Zander is right.

Since the two guys met on the playground back in elementary school, they’ve pretty much been inseparable. I’ve seen a lot of emotions cross that man’s face, and fear was never one of them. It’s clear he’s desperate for my help.

As a nurturer by nature, something inside me softens.

I stand. “Okay, I’ll stay for as long as you need me to. We’ll start a search for a nanny tomorrow. In the meantime, we need to get a few things for her. I’ll help you, Jonah. I’ll teach you the basics.”

His brown eyes soften as I walk toward him. I’m about to slide pass him in the doorway, but he captures my hands in his. My gaze flies to his, as his warmth arouses the needy spot between my legs.

“Thank you, Quinn. I promise to make it worth your while.”

He’s not smiling, and gone is his signature ‘Body Checker’ toughness. In its place I see genuine appreciation, and it messes with me a little, makes it hard for me to stay mad at the guy who spent a lifetime overlooking me as a woman and always challenged me to contests, like he would one of the guys

“You don’t have to make it worth my anything,” I say, the fight gone out of me. “You’re Zander’s best friend, and like a brother to me.” Okay, not a brother, not even a cousin. More like my brother’s hot best friend who just happens to make my ovaries stand up and do the Macarena. Shit. “It’s the least I could do,” I say.

“Still, I’ll make it worth your while somehow or another.”

“Okay, fine.” I push my short hair behind my ears and glance around. “Let’s get this place cleaned up, then we’ll run out together and go shopping. I’ll help you pick out everything you’ll need.” I do a mental list. “Wait, did Daisy’s mother at least leave a car seat for her.”

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