3. Noah
CHAPTER 3
NOAH
With a groan, I rub my temples.
Fisher, my best friend and part of my coaching team, enters the room, his shoulders slumped.
I leave for the Australian Open at the end of the month, and I’ve yet to find suitable care for Maddie while we’re on the road. I need an extra set of hands and eyes when it comes to her. My training schedule is rigorous, and that’s before the tournaments begin. Once that happens, I’m practically an absentee parent.
“What did you think of her?”
I lower my hands and glare at Fisher, hoping he can read the are you fucking joking right now? on my face.
“She was too busy flirting with you to take any bit of this seriously.”
He grins from ear to ear, eyes crinkling at the corners. We played tennis together as kids and teens. We were rivals and hated each other most of the time, yet here we are. After an injury caused an abrupt end to his career when he was twenty, I asked him to join my coaching team. Insight from the man who was my biggest opponent for years is invaluable. Thankfully, he agreed, and we’ve been best friends ever since.
“Exactly.” He drops down onto the couch beside me. “She was great.”
I glower at the guy. He looks younger than twenty-seven, while I probably look older. The death of my wife a year ago did a number on me. Most days I feel like it aged me half a century.
Annie was my high school sweetheart.
When she got pregnant our senior year, we didn’t hesitate. We tied the knot and never looked back. We obviously hadn’t planned on becoming parents so young but we embraced it. When Maddie was born, our world only became more perfect. My tennis career took off, and Annie and Maddie traveled with me. Though we had little downtime, we always made the most of it.
The cancer diagnosis was shocking.
Annie had been fine. We thought it was nothing.
Nothing turned out to be terminal.
She was given six months to live. She made it nine. She fought so hard, not wanting to leave us. By the end, she was miserable, in constant pain. Though I wasn’t sure it was the truth, I assured her we’d be okay. She could go. I couldn’t stand to see her suffer.
It was the worst kind of torture, watching the person I loved most wither away.
After she was gone, I needed time. For a while I thought my passion for the sport had died with her. But the itch returned, and I tossed my hat back into the ring. After an almost two-year hiatus—the nine months she was sick and the year after her passing—my rank has dropped, which means I’ll have to climb way back up.
For Annie.
Because of Annie.
For the past few months, I’ve played tournaments in order to elevate my ranking before the tennis season starts, lucky to snag a few late entry spots. It didn’t take long to realize that if I want to fight back to where I was before Annie got sick, then I need help. It’s been a major challenge, parenting Maddie, making sure her schoolwork is done, and getting back into the swing of things.
“Hey.” Fisher’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “We’ll find someone, buddy. We still have another one to interview today.”
I nod, though my expectations are low.
We’ve already met with six applicants. I highly doubt the seventh will be any better.
Besides, seven is an odd number, and I’m superstitious when it comes to those.
“If this one doesn’t work out, then the job is yours.”
He shakes with laugher. “You couldn’t afford me, sweetheart.” He blows a sarcastic kiss in my direction.
At the sound of the doorbell, he bolts up and heads for the door. “That’s her.”
I drop my head back and close my eyes. Sitting through yet another interview is pointless. After six not-so-great applicants, I can’t imagine unlucky number seven will be Mary Freaking Poppins.
Antsy, ready to get on with my day, I unlock my phone and check my social media apps.
A few posts down, one catches my eye.
Noah Baker—comeback or send-off?
There’s a poll beneath it that allows people to vote about whether they think I’ll come back for good or whether this will be my final year.
I roll my eyes. The speculation is already out of control.
A throat clears, startling me. When I look up, Fisher is glaring at me from the arched entry into the dining room where we’ve been conducting these interviews.
I turn my phone over and plaster on a smile.
With a roll of his eyes, he steps aside.
The moment the woman he escorted in comes into view, all the blood drains from my body. I want to think my heart rate kicks up a notch—or twelve—because it’s trying to force blood to my brain, but it’s simply because the woman in front of me is maybe the most stunning creature on the planet.
She’s young, in her early twenties by my guess, with curly dark hair that falls to her clavicle. Without my permission, my focus drops to a pair of breasts I should not be noticing. Fuck, they’re nice. More than nice, really, in the simple long-sleeve shirt she wears. The top is modest, not even close to scandalous, but even so, I can’t stop myself from checking her out. Her skin is a soft, warm brown, and her eyes, eyes that are taking me in similarly, are dark.
She looks away before I do, and for some stupid reason, that stings.
Fisher clears his throat. “Noah?”
Fuck. Right. I’m supposed to talk to her.
“Hello.” I stand and extend my hand. “I’m Noah Baker.”
She slips her soft palm against mine, and a zap of electricity darts up my arm. Shit. Yeah, this woman is real. “Sabrina Howard.”
“Take a seat,” Fisher tells her, shooting me a look that clearly says what the fuck is wrong with you?
My heart hasn’t raced like this in the presence of a woman since Annie. I had convinced myself I’d never feel that kind of attraction again. I was okay with that. She’s the love of my life. I lost her too soon, but at least I had her for a little while.
Now, Sabrina Howard has me questioning things.
For a long moment, I tap my pen against the table and take her in, this time with a more critical eye.
She looks young, too young to be in charge of my daughter.
Not as young as you were when you had her , my conscience taunts. And the hospital certainly let your immature ass walk out the doors with a newborn.
Fisher slips into the seat beside me. “Your résumé says you have a degree in elementary education, but I don’t see any teaching positions listed under your previous jobs.”
I stifle a snicker.
She cocks her head to the side, assessing me with narrowed eyes.
Fisher taps his finger against her résumé, garnering my attention. For the first time, I give the document a cursory look.
Twenty-two.
“I only recently earned my degree, and the field is very competitive.” She takes a breath, darts a look between the two of us, then snaps her mouth shut, as if she’s decided against saying more.
“How are you with kids?” he asks, pen scratching against the legal pad in front of him.
Fisher has taken notes on every candidate. Me? I’ve done nothing but sit here.
I need to put more of an effort into the search. I leave for Australia in a matter of weeks, and Maddie has to come with me. If I thought finding a suitable candidate in Houston was hard, filling the position while on the road will be next to impossible.
But this is my little girl.
Fisher can kiss my ass. Maddie is my world. I won’t settle for anything less than the perfect fit.
“In general, I’m great with them, but kids are all different. Working one on one with your daughter would give me the opportunity to learn more about her as an individual and tailor my care to what best suits her. It would also give me insight into what kind of support she needs education-wise. I assume that would be a bonus for you, considering, from what I understand, a background in education isn’t required.” She arches a brow, her shoulders pulled back.
I’m impressed by how confidently she addresses me since I’ve barely acknowledged her existence.
Other than staring at her tits like a horny teenager.
Nodding, I tap my fingers on the table. My heart is beginning to return to its normal rate. Now that it is, I’m assessing her, wondering what’s so special about her. Sure, she’s beautiful, but beautiful women are a dime a dozen. Her beauty doesn’t explain why my heart has lost control of itself.
“No, it isn’t required,” Fisher says, since, once again, I’m silent. He kicks me under the table.
Brow furrowed, I continue staring at Sabrina.
If she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it.
Fisher asks her another dozen questions. I only half listen.
With a sigh, she eventually turns her dark eyes my way. “Since, if I’m hired, I would be caring for your daughter, you must have some questions for me.”
A bolt of anger crashes through me.
Who is she to call me out like that?
“Maybe I’m shy,” I retort, teeth gritted.
She arches a brow. “A shy person wouldn’t stare at me like they’re considering whether to rip my clothes off or set me on fire. But sure, if you want to call it shy, we’ll go with that.”
Fisher barks out a laugh so loud it echoes off the walls. I lift my leg and stomp on his foot.
Smirking, Sabrina crosses her arms over her chest.
“I don’t have any questions. I know everything I need to.”
With a nod, she stands and extends her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Noah.”
Annoyance flares like a burst of heat in my chest. I don’t know what it is about her that’s getting under my skin.
“Likewise.”
To Fisher she says, “If you have any follow-up questions, feel free to reach out to me.”
A crashing sound in the kitchen startles us all.
“Maddie.” I’m on my feet and running in the space of a heartbeat.
My little girl stands in front of the fridge, raspberries scattered around her, along with shards of a glass bowl. Beneath one arm, she holds tight to her teddy bear. It was a present from Annie before she passed and contains a recorded message just for her, and Maddie never goes far without it.
She looks up at me, bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I know I was supposed to stay in my room, but I wanted a snack.”
“It’s fine.” I crouch and assess the mess, determining what part to sort out first. “Don’t move,” I instruct. “I don’t want you to get glass in your foot.”
Because she’s eight and thinks she knows better than her dad, she doesn’t listen.
“Ow!”
Before I have the chance to straighten again, Sabrina is effortlessly scooping Maddie up and plopping her on the counter.
“Lift your foot for me, sweetie.” She chucks her under her chin, earning a smile. “I’m Sabrina. What’s your name?”
“Maddie.” She sniffles, wiping tears with the back of her hand.
“That’s a beautiful name. How do you spell it?”
“M-A-D-D-I-E. That’s short for Madelyn. Which is M-A-D-E-L-Y-N.”
“Wow, you’re a great speller.”
My heart lodges itself in my throat. This woman is distracting my little girl to keep her from thinking about the glass in her foot.
Fisher appears with the first-aid kit from the hall closet. He passes it to Sabrina, then looks at me, one brow cocked. “You gonna pick that up?”
Bastard.
With a grunt, I collect the dustpan and handheld broom from beneath the sink and sweep up all the pieces I can see.
“You’re really pretty,” Maddie tells Sabrina as I’m pulling the cordless vacuum from the pantry.
“Thank you. So are you.”
“I wish I had hair like yours. I like curls.”
Sabrina’s responding laugh is soft. Fuck. Quickly, I flip the switch on the vacuum to drown out the sound.
When I shut it off, my daughter is still sitting on the counter. She’s sporting a Band-Aid on her foot, but her face is dry of tears. She’s only known Sabrina five minutes, but she already looks at her like she hung the moon and stars.
I know right then that I’m fucked.
If Maddie likes her, I have no chance of ever getting rid of her.
“Hey.” I ruffle her dark hair. Hazel eyes, the same as her mother’s, blink up at me. “Are you okay?”
She breaks out in the sweetest smile. “Sabrina fixed me all up. Good as new.”
The woman my daughter has instantly taken a liking to smiles back at her, patting her knee. “Can I grab you a snack before I go?”
I narrow my eyes. Who is she to offer my kid a snack in my house? If she’d just leave, I could tend to Maddie myself.
“I’ve got her.” The harsh words escape me just as Maddie says, “Yes, please.” She points to the pantry door. “Could I have a granola bar? It’s in a yellow and orange wrapper.”
Head lowered, I give it a shake. Now she chooses something safe and non-breakable.
Sabrina shoots me a wink as she passes. She knows she’s getting under my skin, and she likes it.
“Is she going to be my new nanny?” Maddie kicks her legs back and forth, her heels bumping the cabinet beneath her.
“No.”
“Yes,” Fisher says from the corner.
I all but jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice. I’d forgotten he was still here, watching like a goddamn creeper.
“Yay!” Maddie throws her arms up. “Sabrina, did you hear? Uncle Fisher says you’re my new nanny.”
Eyes dancing, the too beautiful for her own good woman presses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh. She sobers quickly, though, when she sees my stone-cold expression.
“I’m not so sure that’s the case, but I would love to be. You’re a cool girl.” She tears the granola bar wrapper open and passes it to my daughter.
With a groan, I drop my head back.
Maddie tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
Sabrina shrugs. “I don’t think your dad likes me too much. You wouldn’t want me to have a mean boss, would you?”
Maddie’s bottom lip trembles like it did when she dropped the bowl of raspberries. “Daddy, you wouldn’t be mean to Sabrina, would you?”
Fisher snickers from his spot in the corner. I’m glad one of us is amused.
“Mads, let’s not talk about this right now. I’m sure Sabrina has places to be.”
“Your dad’s right. I need to go.”
My daughter’s eyes go wide and a little watery. “Will I see you again?”
Sabrina shrugs. “Maybe. I hope so.” That last part is spoken so quietly I would have missed it if I weren’t good at reading lips.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Sabrina straightens at the sound of my voice. I find myself standing taller too.
“I have to grab my purse.”
I jerk my head in a nod and follow her back to the dining room.
She swipes her purse from the table, hefting it over her shoulder. The thing looks heavy. What does she have in there? Ten tubes of lip gloss and a bowling ball?
“You don’t like me,” she states plainly. “I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because you find me attractive.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up a finger to silence me.
“I’m not stupid. I know when a man is checking me out. But I’m here about a job. I’m here for that little girl in there. That’s all I care about. If you can’t set your attraction aside and do what’s best for her, then there’s something wrong with you.”
Anger steals through me. “Who are you to tell me what’s best for my daughter?”
“I’m not saying I’m the answer to your problem. I’m telling you that if won’t hire me because you find me attractive, it says way more about you than I think you’d like to admit.”
“Fuck you.”
She bats those long lashes. “Only in your dreams, Noah.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “Get out.”
“Gladly.”
I follow her to the front door, and when she’s stepped outside, I shut it carefully behind her rather than slamming it like I want to.
Fisher steps up beside me, his focus fixed on the dark-haired beauty who’s climbing into a 4-Runner that looks like it’s one firm gust of wind from entirely falling apart.
“Not this one,” I hiss. “Anyone but her.”
He frowns, his brows knitted. “Dude, she’s by far the best candidate.” He points out the window at the decrepit SUV disappearing down the driveway. “Your daughter is already halfway in love with her, and the woman has a damn teaching degree. She’ll have no trouble keeping Maddie on track while you’re on the road. She’s single?—”
My stupid fucking heart takes off at a sprint.
I hold up a hand and glower at the man I thought was my best friend. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
Fisher bites back a laugh, his eyes full of mirth. “I just mean there’s nothing tying her here. She won’t up and quit because she misses her boyfriend.”
At the mention of some fictional boyfriend, I bristle.
“No.”
Fisher sighs, arms crossed. “She’s the only one candidate who already has a passport.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
Fuck.
Thanks to pure dumb luck, Sabrina Howard just landed this job.