Hale: A Single Dad Sports Romance (Hale Brothers)

My parents’ front door opens, and I see my mom’s smiling face. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside to let Story come in. We spent the whole morning in Griffith Park, enjoying each other’s company and watching animals. She told me so many things she memorized during her last visit with her uncle, leaving me perplexed. How the hell did she remember that fennecs don’t drink much water, that they prefer a wide variety of food, from grasshoppers to birds to leaves, instead? When she noticed my shocked state, she said, “Piper told me that,” and it immediately explained everything. Her nanny is her new favorite person.

“Hey, Mom.” I push the door closed and follow Story inside. My mother is already holding my daughter’s hand, and they both smile at me. “Sorry it took us so long.”

“Dad loved the zoo, he didn’t want to leave,” Story explains, batting her eyelashes at me. Sure, it was me who didn’t want to leave. I shake my head, lean forward, and kiss my mom’s cheek.

“Your dad has always loved animals, so I’m not surprised.” Mom plays along, tugging on Story’s hand and heading to the living room. “Did you like the zoo?”

“Yes! Last time I went with Uncle Hayden and Piper, so today I was the one who told Daddy about the animals we saw. And let me tell you, he didn’t know a lot.”

“Ask your dad to name all the captains Real Madrid has ever had instead. He only remembers things that are important to him.” Mom ruffles Story’s hair, making her giggle. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat a lion,” my daughter murmurs. “I want your favorite chocolate cake.”

Mom blinks, bursting into laughter a second later. “You’re lucky I have some in the fridge.”

Story squeaks in delight and rushes to the kitchen. She has a real sweet tooth, and it drives her mom up the wall. In Amelia’s perfect world, her daughter wouldn’t enjoy sweets, would always choose fruit instead. Unfortunately for my ex-wife, Story takes after me with her love for candies and cakes.

“Hunter?” Mom says, and I glance at her. “Can you please go to Hayden’s room and wake him up? I don’t care how many hours of sleep he got. It’s time for him to wake up.”

“When did he get home?” I ask, chuckling.

“Your dad said Hayden and Piper got home around five a.m. They woke up Bernie and made so much noise, I’m surprised they didn’t wake me up.”

“Is Piper here?”

“Yes, she’s sleeping in the guest room, but you shouldn’t wake her up. Let her sleep, but get your brother’s ass to the kitchen. Okay?”

“Sure.” I nod, stalking to the second floor. I don’t know what they did last night, but I’m sure they were both wasted. Dammit, I don’t want Story to see her nanny looking like⁠—

That thought flies out the window as the door to the guest room opens and Piper sneaks outside. She’s still in her dress from last night, but her face is makeup free, and her hair is collected into a high ponytail. She looks cute and well-rested—not how I expected her to look.

Her eyes land on me, and we stare at each other in silence.

“Hey,” I say, and she nods curtly. “Leaving already?”

“Y-yeah.” She toys with the chain on her bag, avoiding looking at me. “My sister sent me about twenty messages, so I need to get home.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s fine, but thank you. See you tomorrow, Hunter.” She takes a few tiny steps in my direction, and that’s when I see it. Piper has a huge hickey on her neck, and all at once I feel lost.

“You have a hickey,” I grunt, louder and harsher than I intended. She halts in her tracks, gawking at me with eyes like saucers. Without any particular reason, I step closer and trace the mark with my finger, inhaling her scent and feeling my dick harden. Jesus fuck. “Here.”

Piper loudly sucks in a breath, holding my gaze and covering the spot with her palm. Her fingers brush mine, and I start to wonder if everything is okay with me. Because the idea of lifting her, pinning her to the wall, and fingerfucking her till she comes is the only thing I can think about right now. Desperately. And it’s so wrong.

She steps back, lowering her eyes to the floor. “I’ll cover it up. Story won’t see it.”

Story? The problem is me, not my daughter. I’m the one who’s dying to know who she was with last night. Does she have a boyfriend? Does she…oh shit. I need a fucking plan. Plan B, C, and even Z. Or she’s going to be the death of me.

“See you tomorrow, Piper,” I grit through my teeth, rounding her and heading toward my brother’s bedroom. I have a boner from touching her skin. What a disaster.

“Your son will be down in ten minutes,” I announce as I step into the kitchen.

Mom and Story are sitting at the table, each with a steaming mug and a plate of cake in front of them. My daughter glances at me and takes a bite of cake. She closes her eyes, a blissful expression on her face. Just looking at her makes me want to try the cake too. I’ll never say no to something sweet.

“My son?” Mom asks as I sit beside Story. “I don’t remember disowning you, Hunter. You probably meant to say ‘my brother’, right?”

I roll my eyes. “My brother will be down in ten minutes. Better?”

“Absolutely.” She smiles at me, taking a sip of her coffee. “Did you see Piper? She swung by to say hi before she left, just after you went upstairs.”

“I did. She told me she was going home.” I shift in my seat, my level of discomfort at its peak. Thank God I chose black sweatpants this morning. It would’ve been way harder to hide my erection in my jeans.

“Piper said her sister has a date, and she needs to help her get ready,” Story murmurs, sneaking a glance at me. “It’s so exciting!”

“It’s exciting when you’re fifteen like Riley is.” My mom tsks. “I swear, kids these days. You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

“I had my first kiss when I was four, because love is not about age. It’s about feelings,” Story says. And I’m fucking dead. My mom’s going to kill me. I meet her gaze, and her eyebrows are at her hairline. Please, Story, don’t say a word, don’t say— “But you shouldn’t be worried. I’m not going to date anyone until I’m at least eleven. Piper said I should enjoy my childhood, and boys can wait.”

Mom clears her throat, coughing loudly. “You should listen to Piper. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s totally right.” She narrows her green eyes on my daughter. “Who told you love is about feelings, sweetie?”

“Mom.” Story shrugs, taking another bite of cake. She looks nonchalant and carefree, while I’m seriously debating whether I should run. When my mom’s angry, it’s better to stay away from her. Like, on the other side of the world away. “Love is one of the most beautiful and powerful things in the world. If Dad didn’t love Mom, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

My gaze flicks to my mother, and she purses her lips. She takes a deep breath and sets her mug on the table. “Did your mom talk to you about all that?” she asks.

“Yes. No. Not really.” Story blushes, and her brows knit together. “She used to take me with her to meet her friends, and I heard them talking.”

“Jesus,” Mom blurts, and a deep wrinkle appears on her forehead.

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?” My daughter turns to me, her gaze pleading. “Daddy?”

I press my palm to her cheek and dip my head to look her in the eyes. “Everything’s fine, baby. Your granny is just surprised you know so much about grown-up stuff.”

“Story,” my mom says softly, and my daughter looks at her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You didn’t do anything wrong. Your granny is just old-fashioned. I’ll do better next time. I promise.”

Story sighs, jumps off the chair, and ambles over to my mom. She hops up onto her lap, winding her hands around her neck. “You’re amazing, Granny. You don’t need to change for me. Or anyone. Piper says if someone makes you feel like you don’t belong, it’s not about you. It’s about them. I think she’s right.”

Does Piper mean me? Do I make her feel like she doesn’t belong? Is that how she feels when I get home from practice?

“Aw, I’m so happy your dad hired Piper for you.” Mom wraps her arms around Story, cuddling her to her chest. “She’s an incredible girl, a real blessing. First for Hayden. Now for you.”

“My best friend is a sunshiny girl,” my brother says from behind me. “You gotta love her. No one stands a chance against her charms.”

“Not sure she’s trying to charm anyone,” Mom chuckles, fixing her gaze on Hayden. “She’s just always nice, and people love her for that.”

“Not Hunter.”

What? I watch Hayden edge closer to the table. He slumps down into a chair and only then meets my gaze.

“Care to explain yourself?” I demand.

“Chill, bro.” He waves his hand, yawning loudly. “Piper loves being Story’s nanny, so she’ll put up with your antics.”

“My antics?” What did she tell him?

“Damn, my head is killing me.” Hayden runs a hand over his face, ignoring me. What the fuck did she tell him?

“What do you mean my antics?” I ask through clenched teeth, and the kitchen drowns in silence.

“You’re so annoying,” my brother mutters under his breath. Then he looks up to meet my gaze. “Pip never complains, so to answer your question—she didn’t tell me anything. But I know her, and I know when something is bothering her.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit presumptuous to put the blame on your brother just because you’re suspicious?” Mom chimes in, giving Hayden a pointed look. Then she shifts her gaze to Story, and then to me. She doesn’t want us to argue in front of my daughter. “And besides, Piper is an adult. She makes her own decisions. If she hasn’t quit and she isn’t talking to you about Hunter, then you can’t assume it’s about her job.”

“Then what could it be? She needed a job; she got one. Everything she was worried about has been resolved.”

“She misses going to college.” Story’s voice draws our attention to her. “She didn’t want to go to the party with you, Uncle Hayden. Piper was worried everyone would be talking about college, and she’d feel left out.”

“Fu—” Hayden stops himself before cursing. “Funny she never told me that. Not funny—she was totally right. We did talk about college a lot. She even disappeared for a while, probably because she got tired of our ramblings. I’m the worst best friend in the world.” He pouts and then sneaks a glance at me. “Sorry, Hunter. I guess I was wrong.”

“That’s okay.” I nod and stand up, intending to go to the bathroom. My brain is ready to explode from all these revelations about my daughter’s nanny. Things aren’t easy for her, and me acting like an ass doesn’t help.

“Are you going to stay for dinner?” I’m almost at the door when my mom calls out to me.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great. I’ll start cooking then.” Mom lets go of Story, and my daughter goes to her uncle. She takes his face in her hands and stares at him long and hard. Then she scrunches her nose and steps back.

“You look exhausted, Uncle Hayden. Have you thought maybe you should stop drinking?”

I snort and rush out the door, dying from laughter. Yes, she knows things she shouldn’t. Yes, she says things no one expects, and sometimes it’s too much. But not today. Her reaction to Hayden is priceless. Tips and tricks from a seven-year-old—nothing is better than that.

Standing in the kitchen, I look out the window, holding a mug of coffee. Story and I spent time with our family last night and got home around nine. She was in an incredibly good mood, chatting nonstop about her school and the friends she’s made there. My daughter genuinely loves her grandparents, but her uncle is her absolute favorite. Their energy is somehow matching, and he enjoys playing with her, agreeing to do whatever she asks.

My brother isn’t how I remember him. I never thought I’d say it, but he’s mature and responsible. He has the right principles and loves his family.

Piper was right when she said he’d changed. I shouldn’t have dismissed her. She knows him better than I do.

I glance at my watch. 8:45 a.m. She should be here soon. I just hope it’s not awkward. I intend to do anything I can to make sure it’s not. I’ve been giving her whiplash with my attitude, and I don’t blame her for being careful around me. It’s like dealing with two kids instead of one, and I’m not sure who’s more of a handful. Probably me, because my daughter knows how to control her emotions.

A door closes, and my body goes rigid. I don’t have any doubt that it’s Piper. She’s on time, as always. Punctual as the spring tide, my brother said, and he’s not wrong. A huge difference from my ex-wife, who was always late.

“Oh.” Piper freezes once she sees me. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry if I scared you,” I say, and she crooks a smile as she heads to the fridge. She has a plastic box in her hands, and when I look more closely I can’t hide my surprise. “Cheesecake?”

“Strawberry cheesecake, to be exact.” She puts the box in the fridge and turns to me. Her hair is collected into a messy bun, a few wild locks framing her beautiful face. In jean shorts and a pastel pink tee, she looks incredible. “I know Story loves it, so I wanted to treat her.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” Piper shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her plump lips ease into a big, radiant smile. “I didn’t have much to do last night, so I thought why not make something for Story and my sister. They both have such a sweet tooth, it’s honestly adorable.”

I chuckle, taking a sip of my coffee. “Story’s love for sweets comes from me. My ex-wife hated me for all the cakes and cookies I kept in our cupboards.”

“I’ve never seen you eat anything sweet.” Piper’s brows pinch together, and I feel a rush of energy slowly spread through my whole body. She’s not only attentive to my daughter, but to me as well. And it turns me on. “Do you want a taste? I’m not sure Story will leave any for you.”

Do I want a taste, Piper? I do. Just not of the cheesecake. “No, I’m good.” And hard, but that piece of information shouldn’t leave my mouth. Ever.

“You don’t think it’s delicious?” she asks, her chocolate brown eyes trained on me.

“I have no doubt it’s delicious.” My voice drops an octave lower, and I angle my body closer to her on instinct. I catch the scent of her perfume, and I want to bury my face in her neck. Lavender mixed with vanilla hits my nose, and I tighten my grip on my mug. “I just…ate.”

Her lips part as she holds my gaze. All I’d need to do is curl my hand around her waist, and she’d be up against my chest in no time. The problem? It’d be highly inappropriate, and she’d quit faster than I could say “goal.” I can’t afford to look for another nanny.

“Your loss then.” She takes a step back, tossing her hair aside, and my eyes land on her neck. There’s no sign of her hickey, and for a second I want to smile, but my relief is short-lived. Who was she with? Does she have a boyfriend? Do I need to worry about catching her with someone in my house? In my car? Because the girl has needs, just like all of us, and I can’t blame her for wanting to be satisfied. I just need a heads-up…I guess.

“I’ll be home around five, so if you want to go out…” I trail off, noticing her frown. “You know, if you want to see your boyfriend⁠—”

“My boyfriend?”

“Well, your hickey…”

Her face instantly darkens, and I regret not biting my tongue. “Can’t I just hook up? Do I really need to have a boyfriend to get a hickey?” She puts her hands on her hips and purses her lips. “What if it was a girl?”

“You swing both ways?” I ask, only realizing how I sound when the last word leaves my lips.

“Do you have something against that?”

How on Earth did we move from talking about cheesecake to discussing her sexual orientation? I exhale a long and exasperated breath and set my mug on the kitchen counter.

“You can sleep with whoever you please. It’s none of my business, and I’m sorry I brought it up at all.” I take a step back, my eyes roaming over her face. She looks just as perplexed as I feel when she meets my gaze. “What I mean is, if you want to go out, to visit your sister or anyone else, you can always do that once I get home. You’re young, and I don’t want you to feel obligated to spend all your time in this house.”

Skirting her, I head to my bedroom. I have about twenty minutes to get ready for practice, and I prefer to spend that time in my room. It’ll be much safer, and it will help me keep my mouth shut.

They say you should know your enemy. Well, I know mine. It’s me. I’m my biggest enemy for sure. Instead of making things right, I only make them worse. I have a fucking talent for it.