Page 7 of Hot Puck
Who knows who I fucking handed Candace to! It could have been a serial killer for all I know.
I’m panting for breath when I fly into the kitchen. My gaze lands on the empty bottle warmer before it ping-pongs around the rest of the room until it lands on the back of a head of dark brown hair.
“Fuck!” Bending in half, I press my hands to my knees and suck in gulps of air. “Holy fucking shit.”
Instead of the shout I started with, the last three words are no more than a whisper. The chaotic emotions bouncing around inside me have zapped every single molecule of air from my lungs and constricted my airways so tightly I’m surprised I can get anything through them.
The last minute—that felt like a fucking hour—has to have taken a decade off my life. Fuck. At the rate my heart is beating I might be having a heart attack.
“Fuck me,” I mutter when the constriction of my chest eases enough I manage to pull in a full breath.
It takes everything I have to straighten, to raise my gaze to the sight that delivered so much relief I almost hit the floor.
When I do, the woman I let into the house not ten minutes ago is standing on the other side of the couch looking at me with concern.
And now that I’m looking at her,reallylooking at her, I can’t believe I thought?—
“You’re not the babysitter from the agency are you.” It’s not a question. It’s obvious whoever this woman is, she isn’t the twenty-four-year-old nanny I was expecting.
This woman looks older than that and definitely not dressed to take care of a baby with her straight knee-length skirt and white blouse.
“No. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself before.”
She cradles Candace against her chest so naturally a pang of regret twinges in my chest. I was never that at ease with my sister the first few times I held her.
Shit. I’ve been holding her for months and I’m barely at ease with her now.
The woman moves around the couch in my direction, and I’m rooted to the spot as I watch her come. I can’t pinpoint the emotions flooding me.
Relief, gratitude…excitement?
What that last one is about I can’t say. But I can’t deny the buzz of elation filling my veins.
When she’s closer she holds out her hand. “I’m Natalie Redding.”
The name rings a bell, but my heart is still beating like a rock band drummer on speed and I can’t pull my thoughts together enough to figure out the reason she’s familiar.
I stretch out my hand to meet hers. “Chase Hawkins.”
She smiles at me as we let go. “Yes. I know.” She pats my sister’s back. “And this is Candace.”
“I...” I snap my mouth closed. I don’t know if I should be worried she knows us or not. “Yes, that’s my sister, Candace.”
Obviously, she isn’t here to hurt either one of us because she’s had Candace alone for long enough to have done whatever she fucking pleased. If she’s another reporter here to?—
My phone beeps, reminding me I’m supposed to be on a call. “Shiii…ooot!”
Fuck. I really need to curtail my swearing. Should probably curb it in my head too.
“You need to get on a call,” she says, and I open my mouth to argue, but before I can she adds, “Why don’t I keep Candace occupied downstairs where you can see us?”
Candace is already looking sleepy and if I’ve learned one thing over the last few months it’s letting her sleep too much during the day means no sleep at night. For anyone.
“Can you keep her awake until I’m off the call? She’s a night owl and we’re trying to correct that by keeping her up more during the day.”
“Sure. Are there toys to play with down there or should I grab some of these?”
She’s already moving toward the pile of toys I haven’t packed up from this morning. “Leave those. I have a basket of things downstairs in the office.” Too many things, but that’s another story.
