Skate the Line: A Single Dad Hockey Romance (Blue Devils Hockey Book 2)

It took three days for Sunny to spread all that sunshine of hers onto Marco. He’s just as smitten with her as he is with Ellie.

Marco and I have known each other for several years. He used to drive the Zamboni for the rink before retiring. It wasn’t until I ran into him a week ago when I learned that his wife had passed a year prior, leaving him alone and desperate for something to fill his time. The thought occurred to me that he’d probably jump right onto the opportunity of being employed by me.

He doesn’t need the money.

He needs the distraction.

He needs the joy too.

And apparently, Sunny is that joy as of right now.

“Whatcha doing, Daddy?”

It’s barely noticeable, but I jerk at the sound of my daughter catching me spying on my two newest employees.

“Blet!” I mutter.

Ellie smirks at my curse in Russian—something I rarely do because she’s caught on to the meaning.

“Just checking out the weather.” Weather. Sunny. Same-same.

I don’t lie to Ellie, but there are times where I bend the truth for her own good.

This time, though, it’s for my own good.

By now, I would’ve known everything there is to know about my daughter’s newest nanny.

Typically, by day two, Ellie’s newest nanny would have told me her every last secret and desire. I’d know all her hopes and dreams, regardless of how fucking uninterested I’d seem. It was as if they thought getting to know them would change my mind about not wanting them in a romantic way.

Sunny is completely different, though.

It’s been all business with her.

Leaving Sunny and Marco outside to continue their morning catch-up session, I pull the stool out for Ellie and begin brushing her hair.

In broken Russian, she angrily curses.

I cringe and manage to keep myself from laughing. “Ellie,” I warn. “Cursing in a different language is still cursing.”

She sighs and slumps backward in her chair, giving me access to her long brown hair. It’s unruly and tangled.

I’m fucking lost on what to do with it.

Most days, I just hand her a headband, and she pushes back the thick strands.

Today, though, I’m tempted to shave it.

I’m only half-kidding, but frustration skips up my spine as I pull my phone out and click on my trusty parenting hack: YouTube.

How to braid in simple terms.

It can’t be that hard. I’m good with my hands.

I click on the first video and begin to follow along. Ellie’s head jerks backward for the third time, and the warm chestnut-colored strands are tangled in my large fingers. I’m sweating and frustrated.

“Good morning, Rapunzel. Your chariot awaits.” Sunny’s cheery voice floats into the kitchen, and tell me why I fucking panic.

Ellie turns at the sound of her new nanny with my hands buried in her hair.

She pauses mid-step, and her smile fades. The confusion lasts three seconds before she slaps her palm over her mouth and hides a giggle, which only pisses me off further.

“Do you need help?” she finally says, creeping toward us.

“No,” I snap.

Ellie curses in Russian again, and I shut my eyes. For fuck’s sake.

I sigh loudly and pull my fingers out of Ellie’s hair.

My ears are hot with anger.

I don’t take failure lightly, even if it’s something as simple as braiding hair.

I bend down and kiss the top of Ellie’s head. “I’ll see you for dinner, Printsessa.” I lower my voice. “And stop cursing in Russian.”

She tries not to smile.

Sighing, I turn and let Sunny take over. I keep my back to her, but I can see how quickly she braids my daughter’s hair in the reflection of the window overlooking the backyard. She bends and whispers something into her ear. I see Ellie nod, and then I hear her feet slapping against the hardwood on her way over to me.

Her small arms wrap around my leg. “It’s okay, Daddy.” The disappointment in myself cuts that much deeper with her rosy cheeks and soft eyes looking up in my direction. “You can’t be good at everything.”

Sunny is right behind her with Ellie’s yellow backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Can too,” I reply.

The puck flies around the ice with so much velocity I’m surprised there isn’t fire trailing behind.

“Early again?” Malaki zips onto the ice with his typical high energy.

I chase the puck, warming up my legs for practice. “I’m always early.”

It’s true. If I’m not with Ellie, I’m at the rink. The only problem lately has been that my nannies weren’t reliable, so I’ve been in and out.

“Yeah.” Malaki slips in front of me and steals the puck. “But not this early. You didn’t take Ellie to school?”

I shake my head. “New nanny.”

Malaki comes to a screeching halt. He rests his arm on top of his stick, and I catch the cheeky grin he’s wearing.

Here we fucking go.

“Is she hot?”

“Is who hot?” Kane takes the ice next.

This is why I come extra early—so I can practice and get in the zone before everyone else shows up and starts pissing me off.

Kane begins stretching. “Does Grandpa have a girlfriend? No fucking way.”

I haven’t had a girlfriend since before Ellie. In fact, I haven’t had a girlfriend since my early twenties. I was too focused on my career. Any woman I spent my time with was just someone I slept with occasionally. Gia just happened to be fertile one night, leaving me with something else to focus on.

“Shut the fuck up, Kane,” I snap.

Emory, in his goalie gear, chuckles on his way to the net. I shoot him a glare.

“New nanny,” Malaki tells Kane and all the other teammates who are listening.

Kane grins before swinging his smug face in my direction. “Well?”

“Well what?” I play with the puck, getting loose in my grip.

Kane skates a circle around me. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-six.” Technically, twenty-five, but twenty-six sounds better. It’s one of the only things I know about her, actually.

Several of my teammates slow their skating. Their blades come to a screeching halt. Anger flies to the soles of my feet, and I curl my lip. “If any of you even think of seeking my new nanny out…I’ll make sure you never fuck another woman for the rest of your life.”

Silence works its way down the line.

Kane chuckles. I immediately stare him down.

“But it might be worth it…” he says. “Depending on what she looks like. We could go out a winner.”

My pupils dilate. My stick drops to the ice, and Kane’s deranged smile appears. He loves a good punch to the face, because he’s a sick fuck.

My teammates haven’t even seen Sunny yet, and they’re already starting their shit. I swoop down and grab my stick and head over to Emory, leaving Kane and my anger on the other side of the ice.

I have to mentally prepare myself for the things they’re going to say when they do see her, because whether or not I want to admit it, Sunny is fucking gorgeous.

It’s part of the reason why I didn’t want to hire her.

I can ignore her charming smile and the spattering of freckles against her honey-colored skin, but I’m not sure the rest of the population can—especially some of my teammates.

Fuck.

I should have added that to the contract.

Winding back, I shoot a puck toward Emory and wait for him to snap angrily at me, considering he wasn’t even paying attention.

To my surprise, he catches it at the last second and drops it to the ice.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, pulling his mask down.

I send another puck flying toward him and then another.

When I run out of pucks, he skates toward me in all his gear and angrily whips his mask up. “Feel better?”

“No!” I shout. “Kane pissed me off.”

Emory chuckles. “He pisses everyone off.”

I stare out into the empty stands, and before I can stop myself, I’m asking Emory for advice.

“Is it wrong of me to require my nanny to sign something that says she won’t engage in any sexual relationships with anyone on the team?”

Emory blinks at me.

I blink back and wait for his answer.

There isn’t an ounce of amusement on his face when he squints. “I’m sorry. Are you asking me for righteous advice? Do you recall my…fake marriage?”

He has a point. What the fuck am I doing asking for advice? I don’t ask for advice.

He elbows me with his thick pad and nods past my shoulder. Coach walks onto the rink, which means we’re about to start running plays.

Before we split, Emory pulls his mask down and answers me. “Maybe get to know her and see if she’s the type that would fuck your teammates before you start assuming.” He sighs. “Take it from me…never assume.”

I turn and skate toward center ice.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know her a little.

After all, she’s taking care of my daughter.