Chapter 11

BRIGGS

“Are those lamb chops, Briggs?”

“You betcha,” I chuckled, closing the lid of my barbecue. I smiled at the woman standing behind me.

Anita Pendleton, the wife of our top defenseman, shook her head at me. “Who serves lamb chops at a pool party?”

“Did someone say lamb chops?” Mandy Mitchell peeked around me, her nose twitching like a hungry little bunny’s.

“Hey, Mitchell!” I yelled. “Get control of your woman before she decides to eat one of my kids.”

Mandy glared at me while she rubbed her enormous belly. “Excuse me for being hungry, Briggs. Maybe next time you have a party, make sure you have enough food.”

“Honey,” Mike said, coming up behind his wife and rubbing her shoulders. “You haven’t stopped eating since we arrived.”

“I can’t help it!” she cried, bursting into tears as her husband led her over to a lounger on the far side of the terrace.

“Fuck!” I muttered to myself. Pregnant chicks are loony.

I glanced over at Layla. She was sitting under a large umbrella with Mary, minding the triplets while my teammates and their wives fussed over them.

Fuck, she was stunning. And sweet. And fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I had fun with a woman.

~Girl, Briggs. She’s twenty. You’re old enough to be her father.~

She sure didn’t feel like a girl when my hands were on her. Layla was all woman. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop fantasizing about her.

I wanted her in my bed, spread out beneath me while I made love to her all night long.

~Made love?~

Fuck. What was happening to me? Briggs Westinghouse didn’t ~make love~. Ever. He ~fucked~ women. ~Women.~ Not girls who worked for him and lived in his house. ~That~ was a recipe for disaster.

“Where’d you find the hot nanny?”

“What?” I barked, tearing my eyes away from Layla as my best friend Clay approached, a smirk spreading across his face.

“You’re fucking her,” he said.

“No way, man,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m not that stupid.”

“C’mon, Briggs,” he whispered, casting a quick glance around. “You haven’t stopped staring at her since she came outside.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with her.”

“True,” he agreed, nodding. “But you want to.”

“I’m sure every guy here wants to sleep with a hot twenty-year-old,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean any of them would actually ~do~ it. It’s called a fantasy, Clay.”

“So you do want to tap that,” he chuckled, taking a swig from his beer.

“She’s off-limits, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Why? Is she married or something?”

“No.”

“Is she into chicks?” he whispered.

“No,” I laughed, shaking my head.

“How do you know?”

“I ~don’t~ know, but I’m pretty sure she’s straight.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Other than the fact that she’s only two years older than my daughter?”

“Don’t think of it that way, man. Think of how tight her—.”

“Do ~not~ finish that sentence,” I growled.

“Overprotective, are we?” he laughed. “It’s not looking good, Briggs.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re sweet on the nanny. Not only do you wanna take her to pound town, but you also wanna marry her and make babies and all that shit.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckled, glancing at Layla as she walked back and forth, burping one of the babies on her shoulder. “So, aside from the age gap, what else is holding you back?”

“She’s the nanny. She works for me. I pay her. She lives in my house. Shall I go on?”

“Do you like her, man?”

I lifted the barbecue lid, turning my lamb chops carefully. “It’s not that simple. There’s another reason why I can’t get involved with her.”

“What is it?”

I closed the lid and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Layla is ~her~ little sister.”

“Her who?”

“Shelly,” I whispered, hating even speaking that evil witch’s name.

“What?!”

“Yeah.”

“How the fuck did that happen?”

“It’s a long story. I met Layla at the hospital. She was there every day since the triplets were born. One thing led to another, and here we are. She’s nothing like her sister.”

“Oh fuck, Briggs,” his expression turned serious.

“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off her.”

“Looks like somebody else has the hots for your nanny,” he chuckled.

Our star rookie from last season was chatting up Layla. That little punk fucked a different puck bunny every night. But then, I wasn’t in a position to judge the kid.

Potter reminded me a lot of myself in my younger days, which was why I couldn’t let him lay a finger on Layla.

I clenched my fists, my nostrils flaring while I contemplated what course of action I should take. I could charge over there and physically remove him. But that would create a scene and raise a lot of questions.

What the fuck was he saying to make her laugh so much? I seethed in silence, watching that bastard flirt with ~my~ kids’ nanny.

As long as he kept his hands to himself, he ~might~ leave my house with all his teeth intact.

I turned my back to shut down the grill, piling the lamb chops onto a platter. When I looked back across the terrace, Layla was gone. And so was Potter.

I charged inside, searching the main floor and coming up empty. “No fucking way!” I growled, stomping up the stairs, two at a time.

Layla’s laughter spilled from the nursery. I sucked in a deep gulp of air, willing my temper to stay in check as I marched toward the open doorway.

Potter was leaning against the wall, watching Layla change Jerome’s diaper. He straightened up when he saw me, the predatory smirk evaporating.

“Hey, Briggs,” he said. “I was just keeping your nanny company.”

“I bet you were,” I said, glaring at him. “Can you excuse us, please? I need to speak with Layla about something.”

“Sure, I guess,” he mumbled, making for the exit. “See you outside, Layla.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling over her shoulder as she finished with the baby.

I shut the door firmly behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Layla asked.

“Nothing.”

“What did you want to speak to me about?”

“You don’t wanna get involved with that guy,” I blurted out.

“Tyler?”

“Yes, ~Tyler~,” I said. Nobody called him by his first name. We all called him ~Potter~.

“He was just being friendly, Briggs,” she laughed.

“No, he wasn’t.”

She scooped the baby up and headed for the door. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Not with a guy like Potter. You have no idea how to fend off a hockey player. We can be very charming when we’re trying to get in a girl’s pants.”

She stopped, turning around slowly. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

I walked around the pool, collecting empty beer bottles and picking up trash. Sonya had a mountain of dishes to contend with inside. I didn’t expect her to do everything.

A few of the guys were spending the night. We were gonna get up at the ass crack of dawn and go fishing for two days while the wives went to some yoga retreat. I was looking forward to some male bonding, having been surrounded by women for the past two weeks.

I stacked the cases of empties in the garage and went inside. When I heard a shrill voice, I knew it was Clay’s wife’s, and I almost turned around and went back outside.

I couldn’t stand the woman; I tolerated her most of the time because she was my best friend’s wife. Peg Lang thought her shit didn’t stink because she was married to an NHL star, and her father was a bigwig in the league.

I had my hand on the doorknob, ready to make a hasty exit when I heard another voice. The sweet sound of my nanny stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t leave Layla alone with Peg. That would be just mean.

“I know who you are,” Peg said.

~Fucking bitch wasn’t wasting any time bringing her claws out.~

“You must be very intelligent,” Layla said. “I thought I did a good job at hiding the fact that I was the nanny.”

~You tell her, baby.~

“Very funny,” Peg snorted. “I’m not talking about that.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” Layla asked with an impatient sigh. “Because if we’re through with this pointless conversation, I have babies to feed.”

“I know you’re that conniving whore’s sister,” Peg hissed. “You’re nothing more than a gutter rat. Briggs has a weakness for charity cases. That’s all you are to him.”

~You couldn’t be more wrong, fucking bitch.~

“I’m not a charity case,” Layla said calmly. “I’m an employee. If you need fresh towels or something to eat or drink, let me know. Otherwise, fuck off.”

My cock swelled, pulsating with need. What a little spitfire. And I wanted to fuck her. ~Bad~. I didn’t give a rat’s ass who she was.

“As an employee, you should know it’s inappropriate to talk to guests that way. I should tell Briggs. He’d kick you out on your ass.”

~No, I wouldn’t. I’d give her a raise.~

“Suit yourself,” Layla said.

~Time for me to make an appearance before this escalates.~

I let out a reluctant sigh, glancing longingly at the door. But I wasn’t a coward, and my sweet Layla needed succor. I wasn’t sure if it was my brain or my dick that had decided she was mine.

“Good evening, ladies,” I said, rounding the corner.

“Oh, Briggs!” Peg said, her fake laugh causing actual pain in my ears. “There you are!”

“What can I do for you, Peg?” I asked as I stood next to Layla, resting my hand on her lower back.

Peg’s eyes narrowed as she puffed out a snort of derision. “I was just reminding your ~employee~ of her station. She seems to be a bit confused.”

“Thanks, Peg,” I said, linking my fingers with Layla’s as I led her down the hall toward my bedroom. “I appreciate your concern, and I will certainly have a word with her.”

“In your bedroom?” Peg gasped, following us to the double doors of the master suite.

“Good night, Peg.” I glanced back at her with a sly grin before closing the door in her face.

Layla stood just inside the door, her chin trembling as her eyes darted nervously around my room. I took her hand, tugging her further into the room and away from the door.

Peg was probably standing on the other side with her ear pressed against the wood.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, tilting her chin up.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I should go.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the nanny, Briggs. I shouldn’t be alone with you in your bedroom.”

“I guarantee, Peg’s waiting out in the hall.”

“Really?” she cried. “What’s her deal?”

“She’s a meddling bitch.”

“I can’t stay in here all night! I have to feed the babies!”

I pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Sonya. She replied promptly with a ~thumbs-up~ emoji.

“Who are you texting?”

“Sonya. She’ll help Mary feed the babies.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Just that you’re helping me out with something downstairs.”

“I should go,” she said, worrying her bottom lip as she stared at the door. “People will get the wrong idea if they know I’m in your bedroom.”

“What will they think?” I teased.

“You know.”

“Yeah, I do,” I chuckled. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You’re making me uncomfortable, Briggs.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” I whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I patted the spot next to me. “Sit. I don’t bite.”

Terror flashed through her magnetic brown eyes. What was she afraid of? Surely, she wasn’t comparing me to that lowlife who tried to rape her.

More likely, she was afraid of the same thing I was. Giving in to our obvious attraction for each other.

She sat down upon my bed too, but gingerly and as far away from me as she could.

“Are you okay, Layla?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry Peg was rude to you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“She had no right to say those terrible things to you.”

“Am I a charity case?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that, Briggs?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you really hire me? You already had a nanny.”

I pursed my lips, tapping my fingers on my knee while I pondered how to answer her question. “I offered you a job for a few different reasons. But none of them had anything to do with charity.

“If I simply felt sorry for you, I would’ve given you some money and let you stay at my condo until you got back on your feet.”

I could feel her eyes on me, waiting for me to elaborate on just exactly what my reasons were. She swallowed noisily, her sweet face gripped with fear and uncertainty as I gazed deeply into her eyes.

“When I met you, I knew without a doubt you were nothing like your sister. It breaks my heart that my boys are gonna grow up without their mother. But they’re better off without her.

“You’re the next best thing to having their biological mom. And you love them. Which is more than I can say for the woman who gave birth to them.”

“They’re my whole world,” she whispered, choking on a sob. “I’m so grateful for the chance to be a part of their lives.”

“And there’s another reason I hired you,” I murmured. I brushed my thumb under her eye, wiping away a stray tear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

She licked her lips nervously, her chin trembling when I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. She tasted like strawberries—sweet, tangy, and fresh from the patch. And I wanted more.

I wanted all of her. But my instincts told me she was very inexperienced. I would have to take things slowly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered, a shy smile breaking out on her face. “I should probably go, though.”

“Probably,” I agreed. I followed her to the door, poking my head out to make sure Peg was gone. “The coast is clear.”

“Good night, Briggs,” she said before she headed down the hall.

“Good night, sweetheart.”