Page 60 of The Stick Handler

“I’m never drinking again,” he says and holds his head.

I roll my eyes. Haven’t we all been there and said that? “Come on, let’s clean. You start upstairs, I’ll start here.”

We both lose ourselves in our duties for the next hour or so, and from upstairs, I can hear the washing machine going. At least we’ll all have clean bedding for tonight. I’ve never slept over at Jonah’s place before. I have my own little condo in the city, close to the daycare where I work. Sometimes, though, when my brother is back home in Massachusetts on hiatus from hockey, I’ll stay with him in his mansion just outside of Cambridge. He has a massive property, and most times it’s empty. He told me I could stay there anytime I want, even open up a daycare in one of the wings. I’ve been dreaming of having my own business for years now, but it’s his place and I don’t want to intrude. Someday he’ll want to raise his own family in that house.

Me, well…I’m not interested in a family. I satisfy my maternal instincts at the center every day. Zander, though, he’s definitely daddy material. Over the years, he’s taken such good care of me, has given me so much, which is why I insist on helping him with Dad’s medical bills. It’s important for me to make my own way in life, and if Zander doesn’t like that, too bad for him. He is, after all the one who made me strong and independent. Now he has to deal with that woman, whether he likes it or not.

I finish gathering up all the garbage, wash and dry the dishes, and take a look in Jonah’s fridge. I guess groceries are also on our to-do list today. If I’m staying here, I’m not going on a liquid diet.

The only thing I have left to do is sweep the kitchen floor, but I can’t find a broom anywhere. I make my way upstairs, to ask Jonah where he keeps it, and find him in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his laptop open. All this time I’ve been cleaning, and he’s been surfing the net?

Anger sweeps through me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He closes his laptop, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Since I’m pretty sure that he was watching porn, or something equally dirty, while I cleaned, I step up to him and open his laptop. My heart jumps into my throat when I see his searches.

Babies. Baby food. Baby clothes. How to take care of a baby.

“Jonah,” I say quietly, my heart missing a beat.

He slides his legs from the bed and plants his feet on the floor. “I…just didn’t want to look like a total moron, Quinn.”

I sit down on the bed next to him. “Look, Jonah. I don’t expect you to know anything about babies. You were an only child, and were never around infants.”

“I know, but sometimes…” He lets his words fall off.

“Sometimes what?” I push.

“Sometimes, when I do stupid things, you’re kind of mean and scary.”

I laugh, unable to help myself. “Mean and scary? Are you serious? Jonah, you’re known as the Body Checker, one of the toughest guys on and off the ice.”

He nods, and I shake my head at him. “You’re only five foot tall—”

I stop him. “Five foot two, thank you very much.”

“Okay, five foot two, but earlier, you scared the team’s two hundred and fifty pound defense man simply by clearing your throat. I mean, I love that you’re strong and confident—”

I hold my hand up to stop him. “Wait, you love something about me?” I give a very unladylike snort. “That’s a surprise. I thought you hated everything about me, especially when I beat you at your own challenges.”

“Yeah, well, that’s true, but I’m just saying you’re a strong woman, with a strong personality.”

“Thanks to Zander,” I say quietly, not wanting to dwell on the past, or how things could have turned out so differently if it weren’t for him.

“When you were younger, I used to think your bark was bigger than your bite,” Jonah says, nudging me with his shoulder. I rock against him, and become acutely aware that we’re sitting on his bed…his nice, comfy bed.

Don’t let your thoughts drift, Quinn.

Suddenly I’ve visualizing me on the bed, a naked Jonah above me, touching me with those big, calloused hands of his, giving me pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Shit, I let my thoughts drift.

I clear my throat. “Is that why you called me a Chihuahua?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the hot thrum rolling through my body.

His deep brown eyes go wide. “Shit. You knew I called you that?”

I fold my arms and glare at him. “Yeah, I heard it a time or two.”

“Hey, it was a compliment.” He nudges me again, and I swear to God if he keeps making body contact, I’m going to hand over my panties and beg him to take me.

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