The Body Checker (Players on Ice Book 3) Page 2

  My stomach takes that moment to clench, and I stop what I’m doing long enough to swallow down the pain of my own abandonment. How can a mother just up and leave her child? I glance at the sweet bundle being held by Liz and my heart squeezes.

  Jonah must know what I’m thinking because he puts his big hand on my back.

  “Quinn, I really appreciate you helping me out like this.”

  He splays his fingers, and as the heat of his touch goes right through me, goose bumps pebble my skin, despite the warmth inside his mansion.

  Honest to God, I hate myself right now. Hate how much I like his touch. He’s a selfish prick who cares about no one but himself. How could I ever like a guy like that…fantasize about being in his bed?

  I’m such an idiot.

  I shake him off me and stiffen. “Let’s get one thing straight, Jonah. I’m not here for you, I’m here for Daisy. That poor child can’t be left alone with you until you get yourself together and be the father she needs you to be.”

  He holds his hands up in surrender and steps back. “Okay, thanks for helping, Daisy,” he says.

  My gaze drops to his bare chest, to the hills and valleys my fingers itch to touch. I briefly pinch my eyes shut and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Put on a shirt.”

  “Okay, okay,” he says and darts up his stair. I watch him go, admire his ass in those nice-fitting jeans.

  When I look at Liz, she’s biting back a smile.

  “What?” I ask, and narrow my gaze.

  She shakes her head hard. “Nothing.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I carry the empty bottles into the kitchen, and my brother is pulling a garbage bag out from under the sink. “Zander,” I say, and he turns to me, a worried look on his face. I drop the bottles into the bag and glance around the kitchen.

  “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.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Dammit.”

  “How about this,” Zander says. “Write me a list and I’ll go get the stuff, while you clean this place up.”

  Isn’t that just like my brother, ready to jump in and help. He’s a good guy, one full of integrity and character.

  “No, we’ll go. She’s my responsibility, not yours,” Jonah’s says, and I’m glad to see him step up. He’s no doubt worried about me snipping a few of his beloved body parts. “Maybe if you could just pick up a car seat, then bring it back.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind. I mean, I am Daisy’s uncle right? Not by blood, but by brotherhood for sure.”

  “I think I should be the one picking out her things, bro. But thanks. And make sure you get her the best car seat. I don’t care what it costs, safety first.”

  “Okay, I’ll grab the seat and be back shortly.”

  Both Jonah and I nod, agreeing on something, which is a first for us—and a good sign that we’ll get done what we need to get done without too many arguments or challenges.

  I head into the living room to find a bunch of Jonah’s teammates, along with their puck bunnies, making their way downstairs. I pause and give Jonah a look that says they need
to go. Now. He winces like I’d just slammed him into the boards as I take sweet little Daisy from Liz, thanking her for helping out.

  Jonah grips the back of his neck with one hand and rubs like he’s got a massive knot to work out. His T-shirt stretches over tight muscles as he massages, and it takes everything in me not to gawk.

  “So, ah, I guess I have some explaining to do,” Jonah begins when everyone stares at the baby, all wide eyed and frightened, no doubt praying she’s not one of theirs. “Apparently, I have a daughter,” he says, and his gaze flashes to mine for a second, like he’s waiting for my reaction. I smile at him for finally accepting the fact that sweet Daisy is his. “Found out this morning.”

  “Congratulations, man,” Luke, a teammate known as the Stick Handler says as he steps up to me to take a peek at the sleeping baby. None of the others get too close, probably because they’re worried it will rub off on them or something. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “So yeah, no parties for a while.”

  I clear my throat to gain his attention. His eyes flash to mine.

  “Or…ever again?” he asks, obviously wondering if that’s what the throat clearing meant, which of course, it did.

  “Not as long as Daisy is in the house, and she’s your responsibility,” I say.

  I mull that over for a second. Will having a child to care for change him, shift his priorities? I’ve seen it happen in guys; not hard-core tough guys who’ve never had to care about anyone but themselves. Well, then again, that’s not entirely true. Jonah cares about his best friend. When my brother was down and out with a concussion, Jonah checked on him every day, and I can’t forget that when he was at the hospital, he’d visit the children’s ward. Giggles would fill the hall…and my heart.

  Jonah’s buddies and their girls grumble as they gather up their things and file out the front door. Looking like a kicked puppy—like he’s never going to have fun again—Jonah shuts it tightly behind him.

  “Back in a few,” Zander says, rattling his keys, and he and Liz leave through the side door leading to the garage, where he must have parked his car last night.

  Jonah turns to me when we’re the only two left in the house. “Do you want me to take her from you?” he asks, his voice as shaky as his outstretched hands.

  “I think we should lay her down,” I say quietly. “Let her sleep.”

  Jonah scratches his chin. “I don’t have a crib yet.”

  “She doesn’t move much at this age. I’d put her in a bed, and secure her with pillows, but I’m guessing all the beds have been slept in.”

  He gives me a sheepish look. “Ah, yeah.”

  “Then you get the bedding washed and I’ll set her up here on the sofa.” I walk across the room and set her down. As I do, I note the way Jonah is studying the way I handle her. She stretches out and I tuck her in, placing cushions on the outside of her so she can’t roll off. “I’d rather have her close anyway. At least until we get a baby monitor and can hear her cries.”

  “The neighbors can hear her cries, Quinn,” he says, and for some reason that makes me laugh.

  “You think that’s funny?” he says, his mood lightening slightly. “I thought my head was going to split in two.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How can something so tiny make so much noise.”

  “If you’re looking for sympathy, forget it. Your headache was your own fault, and you can’t drink like that as long as you have Daisy.”

  “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 feet 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.

  I give a humorless grunt. “No it wasn’t.”

  “I was wrong though,” he says thoughtfully. “I think you can totally handle yourself. You’re not a Chihuahua, you’re a Ninja Chihuahua.”

  This time, I burst out laughing. “Seriously, Jonah? Ninja Chihuahua?”

  “Hey at least it’s better than the names you called me. I can’t even imagine what you wrote about me in those journals you always had your nose in.”

  Oh, no, he can’t imagine at all.

  Thank God.

  3

  Jonah

  “Are you sure it’s secure?” I ask, after reading the instructions and harnessing the baby seat into the back of my car.

  “Positive,” Quinn says, trying to keep her voice even as she places the baby inside. I’m trying not to drive her crazy with my questions. I know how she can get so annoyed with me, but she’s being extra patient this afternoon and for that I’m grateful. I’m not sure how I’ll pay her back for all this, but I definitely will. I’d be totally fucked without her.

  “This is how you buckle her in,” she says, and leans into the car to place Daisy into her seat. For a brief second, my gaze drops to her curvy backside.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Mind on the task, dude.

  I have a baby to take care of, and looking at my best friend’s sister’s ass—no matter how perfect it is—is not on the agenda. Ever. Not only because she thinks of me as a brother, but staring at her would break the bro code, and that’s not going to happen.

  The lock snaps into place, and Quinn inches from the car. She tucks a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “Got it?”