The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

“You haven’t had any real experience with men like him,” he continues. “Guys like that only want one thing. They’re stars, and they use it to get young girls like you to do whatever they want.”

“Naïve girls like me.” It’s not a question, but more a sarcastic statement.

His shoulders sag slightly. “It’s just not a good idea, Faith.”

Dad never raises his voice, but the vein is still popping out at the side of his neck, and I can tell he’s still simmering with anger.

There’s got to be more than just this that’s bothering him, something that has nothing to do with me going to Colorado on a whim. One quick scan of the room, and I know exactly what it is.

The kitchen table is scattered with unopened envelopes. More bills. Sitting there, because he hasn't had the guts to open them. The same thing he did last month, and the month before that. I knew he was in financial trouble, but if those envelopes are all bills waiting to be paid, he’s screwed.

I point to them and say, “You need help with that, and Tristan’s willing to pay me good money to keep an eye on his children, Dad.”

He scoffs, disliking my new plan of attack to make him agree with my decision. “Oh yeah, how much?”

Damn it, we didn’t even discuss money.

Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I’m going ahead with this for all the wrong reasons.

Like, say, the hot, passionate kiss Tristan hit me with this morning in the hotel bathroom.

“A lot,” I reply indignantly, but he doesn’t believe me any more than I do. It sounds weak, and I don’t even know what a decent figure would be to toss out.

He shakes his head, running his hand over his balding head. “You don’t even know how much, Faith. This is exactly the reason why you can’t go. The man hasn’t even divulged how much he’s paying you, and you’re already packing your things.”

Suddenly, he’s laughing at me, looking me straight in the eye while he does it. I don’t like him mocking me, but I don’t have any words to defend myself.

Because he’s right.

I ignore him as he calls my name, grabbing my keys from the entryway stand. I’ll pack a few things in a bag, grab my passport, and go. Dad can’t stop me, and though I hate defying him, I feel like this is one time I’ve got to.

He’s standing by the door when I rise after pulling my shoes back on, waiting for me near the bottom of the staircase. It’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done to kiss him on the cheek and give him a sad smile. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”

He doesn’t say a word, just turns around and heads into the kitchen. I sigh, not wanting to leave on bad terms. Dad and I have hardly ever been on bad terms.

But, this is a win-win situation, even if he doesn’t realize that. He’ll get the money he needs, and, maybe I’m just as naïve as he says I am, but I know there was something in that kiss this morning. Tristan didn’t kiss me because he felt like it. He did it because he felt something between us. The same thing I’m convinced I felt the moment I met him.

Chapter 9

Tristan

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It’s as if winning the game wasn’t a strong enough high, so I had to go ahead and kiss the new nanny.

I’ve never fucked around with my kids’ babysitter before. Never. But, the thing is, the last nanny never got my blood boiling, not like this one does. Faith’s hot as sin, with her glossy dark hair and matching earthy eyes. She’s the kind of girl that’s too innocent. Especially for a guy like me.

The team’s still buzzing about winning another game, and the only thing on my mind is Faith. She should be in college, and she’s got to be nearly ten years younger than me by the look of her. Damn it, this is why I kept as far away from Isobel as possible. I didn’t want there to be any confusion. I hired her to look after the kids, not to keep my bed warm.

But Faith's different, I know that already. She helped me out for no reason, and the kids warmed up to her right from the start. Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to her. Maybe it has nothing to do with her perfect, perky breasts, or her nipples that seem to go hard whenever I enter the room.

Everything about this setup is wrong, but I can’t seem to rid my thoughts of her.

I shake my head, thinking it’ll get rid of my dirty thoughts. Earlier, when she’d bent down to pick up Ferguson’s Spiderman action figure from the floor, she managed to take my breath away. She’s perfect, with her pronounced hips and her ass that just begs to be squeezed. She’s the perfect figure-eight with her slim waist and athletic legs. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

I didn’t want to just kiss her; I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that. And it took all of my self-control not to lure her back into that bathroom and have my way with her.

I undoubtedly left her confused, but kissing her felt like the right thing to do at the time.