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Chapter Six

Lars

A wail that could wake the dead—or at the very least Dex O’Malley, my Rebels teammate who could sleep through anything—sent shockwaves throughout the house.

So much for a good-natured baby.

The moment Adeline left the house, it was as if Mabel knew that she was on her own. That the one person now responsible for her welfare was the definition of disaster. Over three hours since our trusty threesome became a desolate twosome, and Mabel’s lungs would not let up.

The only time she was quiet was with a bottle in her mouth, but I couldn’t feed her twenty-four seven, could I?

(That would be a negative. And yes, I checked online.) Now I was learning from the World’s Teacher, aka YouTube.

One woman with Mary Poppins vibes, including the accent, seemed to know what she was talking about, so I bookmarked her channel and played a couple of relevant videos.

I’d burped the baby—shirt ruined—and now I was holding her to my shoulder and pacing around the house because apparently movement was supposed to calm her.

It sure as hell wasn’t calming me . Mabel’s impression of a banshee continued to assault my eardrums.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” No it’s not …

“We’re going to be alright.” Liar, liar.

“I’ve got you …” But who’s got me?

I considered my options while the baby’s wail dialed up several octaves.

Call Elle and Theo was top of the list. I knew they’d be over here in 0.

4 seconds if I put out the Rebel signal, but they’d already helped so much.

They had their own family to take care of and didn’t need to add me to their very full plate.

There were probably other teammates who could offer an assist, or their wives, which was likely sexist of me.

But in this game, the wives took on most of the child-rearing duties.

What did I expect? The WAGs to set up some sort of rotation-for-sad-sacks to make sure this poor kid and her doofus hockey player dad survived the night?

Not exactly realistic. Nor did I have that kind of relationship with any of them.

The only person I could imagine giving me the help I needed was Adeline.

She had set up the baby’s crib and showed me around the supplies—not that a single word went in beyond “formula”—and had given me a look of such pity when she left.

She didn’t fake it and tell me I’d get through this …

because she knew I was up shit creek without a nanny.

As I did laps of my house with a distressed baby, I took in how much my environment had already changed.

I was used to neatness, order, everything in its place.

Organizing my existence with a military precision had helped me manage the chaos of my upbringing, and those tenets had stayed with me. Tidy life, tidy mind.

Now everything around me was fraying at the edges.

Bits and bobs and baby stuff strewn haphazardly.

Onesies and bibs in piles on the sofa, the foyer stuffed with a stroller, bassinet, and equipment my brain had yet to label.

The kitchen, previously neat as a pin and my haven in times of stress, was now a bombsite filled with baby rubble.

“Shush, sweetheart. Let’s stop with all this fuss.”

The wails continued, and I was thankful my neighbors lived several hundred feet away, so they weren’t likely to contact social services to report my terrible parenting.

At least, that’s what I thought until I heard the doorbell ring. Someone must have called about the noise, and to be honest, I was at the point where I needed to surrender to the authorities and accept that I was not cut out for this line of work.

“Let’s see who that is. Maybe it’s the police to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

I opened the door to find a vision on my threshold: Adeline.

“Hey!”

“Hi, how are things?”

“Absolutely fantastic.” Mabel’s shrieks branded me a liar, but I was foolishly electing to brazen it out. “Did you forget something?”

“Uh, no, it’s just—is she okay?”

“No idea. I’ve fed her and walked around with her and tried talking like some supposed guru on YouTube suggested. I thought she’d have cried herself out by now.”

“Babies can pretty much cry forever if they have a mind to do so.” She held out her hands. “Could I?”

Please. “Sure.” I had no idea why she’d returned except that she probably heard Mabel from miles away.

Adeline took the baby into her arms with a deftness I envied. “I think I know what’s up. This little mite needs to be changed.”

“Into a baby that doesn’t scream?”

“Into a new diaper.”

Jesus, I was a complete idiot. I’d fed her and that food had to go somewhere. How did babies survive at all? Now that I thought of it, she did stink a bit, but I’d assumed that was just how my house was supposed to smell from this day forward.

“You told me that before. About the diapers and I watched Elle do it—it kind of went out of my head.”

Adeline smiled, and I suddenly felt hope bloom in my chest. Not that I expected her to stick around but when this woman was here, things were simply better.

Seeing her hold Mabel with such care and consideration left a lump in my throat …

well, I was probably just feeling overwhelmed with the emotion of it all.

“Let’s get her taken care of and hopefully, she’ll be less cranky.”

I nodded in awe, silently thanking the universe for sending this enkelini back to me.

My angel . I watched closely as Adeline lay out the mat (canvas, really, that could be seriously Jackson Pollocked if we weren’t careful).

But she was careful, absolutely assured in her movements.

She unwrapped the baby from the diaper—and yeah, sorry, kid, for leaving you like that—and moved through the steps quickly and efficiently.

Dirty diaper popped in the pail, baby cleaned up and repackaged like a little gift, then back in a clean onesie which I passed off like the nurse assisting a surgeon.

As soon as she was clean and dry, a beatific peace came over her.

That’s all she wanted: food, comfort, and a dry booty.

While Adeline worked her magic, I couldn’t help watching her, not just for her sure way with Mabel, but because she had changed outfits since I saw her last. Now she wore a cute dress, one of those wrap-around deals that bisected her breasts and cinched at the waist. The skirt was full but as she leaned forward during the diaper-changing, the fabric draped over her hips and ass, giving her curves a sensual silhouette.

Her hair was no longer in a ponytail, but fell in soft, blue-black waves over her shoulders. She looked … sexy.

Snap out of it, man.

As a baby’s literal shit made the best distraction, I did my best to clean up the mess, noting that I was going to need a boatload of supplies and/or have my cleaning lady up her schedule to daily.

Washing my hands, I surreptitiously studied Adeline who sat at my kitchen table holding Mabel.

The image was like something out of an Americana tribute, one of those fifties’ era paintings about perfect suburban life.

It should have made me shudder. I’d grown up with that perfect American life, at least on the outside.

No one would have thought differently. I was the son of Sven Nyquist, who was drafted from Finland at nineteen, married a puck bunny he knocked up, then took sole guardianship of me when my mom died.

I’d had nannies as a kid, interspersed with girlfriends and stepmoms who liked the idea of life with a famous hockey player until the reality set in.

Sven’s temper and my neediness did not make for a happiness equation.

With my father’s relationships with women a mess, he turned to me to salvage his personal life. If he could coach me to be a professional hockey player, then he’d feel like he hadn’t failed in other aspects of his life. I might not have been wanted, but I could be of service and restore his pride.

Now here I was, faced with having to look after a child I didn’t want—maybe not the same situation as dear old dad, but certainly not the ideal way to go about bringing a baby into this world.

I was pissed at myself, if I was being honest. Pissed at getting myself into this fix and at how my life was about to become so much smaller.

“She’s happier now.” Adeline looked up with a smile that vanished at the utter panic she saw on my face. “It’s going to be okay, Lars.”

“You sure about that? Because right now, if you hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure I would have figured this out without damaging her.”

“She would have had a little booty rash, and you would have had no sleep. Not the end of the world. You would have figured it out.”

It was kind of her to say so. “Is there a reason why you came back?”

“Just on my way home and thought I’d do a quick check-in. I know you must be feeling overwhelmed.”

With her empathy making my chest tighten in a way I did not appreciate, I moved on to practicalities. “I’ll be interviewing the nannies they send over tomorrow. But I don’t even know how to pick one, other than ‘can you start today?’ Probably not a good criterion.”

“Not the best.” She bit her lip, and I looked away because … I didn’t know.

More like, I didn’t want to know. I was so tired that my mind was straying to inconceivable things.

I heaved a breath. “This is probably out there but?—”

“I’ll help with the interviews.”

I blinked. “You will?”

“I know you have to travel for a game the day after.”

“I already told the brass I need personal leave.”

“You did?”

She didn’t have to sound so shocked.

“I might know zero about looking after a kid, but I do know that I won’t be finding childcare in less than twenty-four hours.

This is my problem, and I need to be here for this kid until I’ve hired someone.

I can’t be in two places at once, so something had to give.

” I crossed my arms. “But if you can help me vet the candidates, that would be amazing.”

“I can do that. What did your Rebels bosses say about you missing the game?”

“Ryder said they’d get a temp nanny in, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

” Ryder Calloway, the general manager, had been full of ideas after he spent the first three minutes of the conversation laughing his head off.

“But I told him I can’t leave my kid with just anyone .

I had plenty of that as a kid and as shitty a dad as I’ll probably be, it would be even shittier to leave her with someone I’ve never met.

I need a few days to get all my ducks in a row. ”

Mabel yawned and seemed to settle, oblivious to my agitation. Evidently this little girl felt safe in Adeline’s arms. I felt two ways about that; the part of me that needed to see Mabel comforted evicted the envy—mostly—at knowing I couldn’t make this child as happy.

But I could pay for decent help.

“The fact that you don’t want to palm her off on just anyone tells me you’re not going to be a shitty dad. Did you get any sleep last night?”

My bleary-eyed expression must have said it all. “Not much, but your mom got even less.”

“It’s not a contest.”

It was always a contest. I was a winner on the ice and there was no way in hell I was going to be a loser when it came to fatherhood. I would be better than him .

“Here, I can take her.” Mabel had fallen asleep in Adeline’s arms, so I was loath to wake her. But neither could I keep this vibrant woman in my kitchen doing her Madonna and Child impression all night.

We made the transfer without waking the baby. “Worn ragged by my stellar parenting skills.”

She gave a low chuckle. “You’ll get there.”

Maybe I would—with her help.