Page 19 of Defending her Heart

“Would you, uh...would you be able to bring Paisley home, feed her dinner, and hang out with her until I get home?”

Well. Fuck. Me. Now. And not in the vagina. Sexy Daddy wants me to be his babysitter, not his playmate.

Tucking his hand back in his pocket again, he rocks back on his heels. “I can tell by your expression you weren’t expecting me to ask you that.”

“You think?”

“Asking you to watch Paisley after insulting you and being ungrateful yesterday makes me—”

“A jackass.” I’m mad at myself for even considering going out with him when I should be more upset that he’s only using me as a babysitter.

Because I don’t appreciate being taken advantage of, I go into full attack mode. “Tell me this, Mr. Humphries. If you didn’t so desperately need me to watch your daughter tonight, would you have even come in here to apologize or would you have carried on like any other day in your entitled life?”

“Honestly?”

“No. Please lie to me.”

“I would have apologized eventually. Would I have gone out of my way? Probably not. I’m sure I’d run into you at a game or at an event with Riley and Walker and apologize then.”

Hell. I can’t fault him for his honesty.

“Paisley likes you. I don’t trust anyone but family with my daughter, and I’m trusting you.”

“Am I supposed to feel honored?”

“If you loved my daughter as much as I do, yes. But I don’t expect that. Not even from my parents. She’s the center of my entire world, and I make no apologies for looking out for her best interest and making sure she’s cared for, loved, and even spoiled.”

Love and hate are kinda the same thing, right? Because I freaking love and hate the words coming out of Nash’s mouth. Still, I don’t want to appear as a pushover. I’ll never again allow a man to walk all over me.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” I tug at the bottom of my blouse and run my hands down my thighs, straightening my skirt. “I don’t forgive you yet for being a douchebag. The only reason I’ll help is because your parents are sweet and I don’t want them to stress out while being so sick. And because your daughter is a cool kid who doesn’t need to learn what a fucktard asshole her father is.”

“Is fucktard an adjective in that sentence?” The corner of Nash’s lip lifts and lowers faster than a blink.

Ignoring his wise-assness—that I appreciate too much—I open the door and toss over my shoulder. “Leave her car seat in the office.”

“I already did,” he says to my retreating back.

Fucking confident asshole.

CHAPTER EIGHT

NASH

Practice sucked. Or rather, I sucked. My head wasn’t in the game and I got called out for it. Not only by Coach, but by my teammates. I pride myself on keeping my head in the game. Even being a single father and relying on my parents to help raise Paisley, I’ve still managed to keep football and my home life separate.

But today it wasn’t just Paisley that had me distracted. It’s her leggy, witty, gorgeous teacher who’s been moonlighting as a babysitter taking up too much rent space in my head. And making my dick take up too much space in my boxer briefs.

If fucking her out of my system was a possibility, I’d be all over it already. But she’s off limits on so many levels. Mainly because she’s not my type. Mostly because I fear I’ll get wrapped up in her anyway, despite her representing much of what I don’t want in my life.

The garage door rolls closed and I climb out of my SUV and head inside. The upstairs was dark when I pulled in, but there were plenty of lights shining through the downstairs windows.

I’d have been home closer to seven, but Coach pulled me aside to check on me. I told him about my parents being sick and let him believe that’s why I couldn’t focus. They were part of it, but I know they’ll be okay soon enough. Dad updated me on the phone on the way to practice this afternoon.

Giggles erupt from the family room and I make my way toward the laughter.

“You read the voices so silly. Just like Daddy, but he sounds goofier when he tries to be the princess.”

I stop in the doorway and take in the family room. They turned the sectional into a fort, draping it with blankets and pillows.

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