Page 9

Chapter nine

Hazel James

My purse slides down my shoulder as I attempt to knock on Emmett’s garage door. I probably should have made more than one trip, but I’m always too confident in my carrying abilities.

“Miss Hazel!” June yells when she flings open the door. She rushes me, forcing me to drop my bags on the floor. My suitcase flips backward, hitting the concrete floor with a loud smack.

“Hey, sweet pea,” I say with a laugh. “Are you excited for another sleepover?”

“Yes! A hotel sleepover!” She cheers.

I frown. We’re supposed to be staying here while Emmett heads to New York for a couple days. There shouldn’t be any need for a hotel. Before I can clarify, June lets go of me and runs back inside, chanting a made-up song about hotel waffles.

As I’m gathering my things, a shadow falls over me. I glance up, spotting Emmett through the strands of hair that have fallen in my face.

“Sorry about the mess,” I say with a nervous smile.

Wordlessly, he bends down and takes my toppled suitcase and duffel bag, leaving me with my backpack and purse.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He nods and carries the luggage inside the house with the ease of someone with far too many muscles. I’m not weak by any means, but I also don’t pack light. There’s always a chance June and I get into some kind of mess, and considering I’m deathly afraid of leaving my underwear in their dryer by accident…I pack extras of everything.

“June mentioned something about a hotel?” I say from behind him. “Is that code for something?” It wouldn’t be the first time June said one thing and meant another. One time she told me she wanted to go to Paris. I thought she was saying she missed her grandmother, who had sent her a postcard from there recently. Turns out, she meant she wanted to go to a crepe shop she’s been to before that has an Eiffel Tower logo.

“She asked to go with me this week, and I told her I’d talk to you when you got here. She must be assuming you’ll give in the same way I did.”

Emmett sets my bags down near his Nashville Cowboys duffel and his large black suitcase. My colorful array of bags would stand out more if there weren't a tiny princess suitcase already nestled in. I smile at the sight. Leave it to June to be prepared to get what she wants. She’s not spoiled in a bad way, but those around her–including myself–do find it hard to tell her no.

“So I’d be going to New York?” I ask, then cringe at the fact that I asked the most obvious question in the world.

Emmett walks into the kitchen and begins putting away the dishes. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on my blunder.

“Yes, you’d fly with the team. The hotel has a room on hold if you’re able to come, and I’d of course pay you extra for food and cover any other expenses.”

He looks up from the dishwasher, his dark eyes meeting mine. I wish he wouldn’t do that. Ever since the pizza incident, I’ve had an unfortunate case of butterflies. They’re very tiny, but there nonetheless.

“If you’re not able to come, it’s not a problem,” he says, and I can tell he’s being sincere. “I don’t want to force you.”

“Force me into an all-expenses paid trip to New York?” I question in a joking tone.

His mouth quirks up at the edge in his signature Emmett not-quite-smile. “You’ll still be taking care of June. It might be more difficult to keep her busy without her entire playroom at your disposal,” he points out as he closes the now-empty dishwasher.

“I’ve traveled with the Lawsons before, so I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve in that area. I’d be happy to come take care of June in New York. Plus, I’ll get to go to my first baseball game!” I grin big.

Emmett stares at me. “You’ve never been to a baseball game?”

It occurs to me that telling my professional baseball player boss I’ve never been to a game wasn’t the smartest idea.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to go,” I say, because telling him I’ve never cared enough to go doesn’t seem like a good answer. Probably best not to reveal that June knew more about baseball than I did when we were watching highlights the other day…

“Your first one will be a good one, then. The Wolves are a good team, and it should be fun to battle it out. Their pitcher is new to the majors, but he was the college pitcher of the year last season.”

I wish I knew more about baseball just so I could ask questions. This might be the most Emmett’s ever talked about something other than June since I started working for him a few weeks ago.

“I’m sure you guys will beat them,” I say lamely, then grimace. I should have at least watched a Baseball for Dummies YouTube video or something since getting hired. I’m going to look foolish at the games. Maybe I can do some research over the next couple of days. Surely the sport can’t be too hard to pick up. It’s just throwing and hitting a ball, after all.

“I waited ten minutes in my room like you asked, Daddy,” June says as she skips into the kitchen. “Do I get to go?”

If I was on the fence about going, her sweet puppy dog eyes would have swayed me. Emmett’s expression is soft as he regards June. I’m sure mine matches. He glances at me as if giving me one last chance to say no. I’m caught off guard by the remaining warmth in his gaze. If he weren’t my boss, I’d be a puddle right now. There’s something so attractive about a man caring for and loving his daughter.

“We’re going to have that hotel sleepover,” I tell June.

She squeals and throws her arms around my waist. “Thank you, Miss Hazel!”

“Make sure you hug your dad too,” I say softly after bending to kiss the crown of her head.

She rushes off toward Emmett, who picks her up and squeezes her tight.

“You better be good for Miss Hazel, or I’ll send you back home.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll be the goodest.”

I catch a flash of a smile from Emmett that sends my stomach swooping. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? With his dark hair, beard, caramel eyes, and muscles, it makes it difficult to avert my gaze. Seeing him smile has my heart rate kicking up to speeds that would get me a ticket on the interstate.

Stop it , I scold myself. He’s your boss . Not to mention, the almost ten-year age difference between us. I watch as he sets June down then picks up all the heaviest bags from the pile with ease. He catches me staring and raises a dark brow.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yep!” I squeak, my face heating. “I mean, yeah, I’m ready. You don’t have to carry my bags.” I resist the urge to fan my face. I grab June’s tiny backpack that she added when I wasn’t looking, along with my duffel.

“It’s no big deal. I can carry more, which means fewer trips to the garage.” I smile at his words. “What?” he asks, looking confused at why I’m smiling about luggage.

“That’s why I brought in my bags all at once, so I wouldn’t have to go back to my car. We had the same idea.”

A faint smirk settles on his lips. “Yeah, except I can carry all these bags. You dropped yours.”

I gape at him, or rather at his back, since he turned around. Did Emmett Foster just tease me?

“June hugged me! That’s why I dropped them,” I defend myself.

Emmett squats down and says, “Hop on, June.”

“Yay! Piggyback ride!” She jumps on his back and he stands again with no problem.

“Okay, this is not a fair comparison,” I say as I follow them into the garage. “You’re a giant made out of pure muscle.”

“Daddy is a giant!” June giggles as Emmett loads the luggage with her still on his back.

“It sounds like less of a compliment when the ‘pure muscle’ part is left off,” Emmett mumbles.

I laugh. “Maybe I meant it as an insult in the first place.”

“I’d avoid using that if any of the guys on the team bother you. They won’t see it as an insult coming from you.”

Coming from me? My brow furrows as I watch Emmett open the back door of his truck so June can climb in. He makes sure she’s safely in her booster seat, then closes the door.

“That reminds me. Let me know if any of them do bother you. They’re decent guys, so they shouldn’t, but I’ll take care of it if they step out of line.”

Warmth pools in my abdomen at the thought of tall, strong Emmett coming to my rescue.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

In the span of one morning he smiled–not at me, but still–joked, and offered to handle any guys who gave me unwanted attention. I feel as though these last few minutes have been a rare gift. One that I will try not to dream about tonight.