Chapter Five Barrett #2
“I didn’t ask about money. That’s not why I’d say no.”
I let out a harsh breath. “Then why?”
Just like the other day, she took a leisurely glance from the top of my head, down to my feet, and back up again, ending with a pointed look at my face.
Because of me.
Right.
Undoubtedly, my cheeks were flushed by her thorough gaze and just . . . her.
“I don’t like most people, but I like your kids,” she said. “And I know they liked me. What I can’t figure out is why you’d agree, given . . .” She gestured to her general person, like she was an explanation in and of herself.
And in a way, she was.
Everything about her set me on edge, and not in a good way. Not because of her hair, not because of her little tattoos everywhere. It was just . . . her.
“You made my kids happy,” I said as evenly as I could manage. “And when I have happy kids, they pull a lot less shit on the person in charge of them.”
Lily laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that didn’t match her at all. “Oh, come on. How bad can they be?”
Slowly, I raised an eyebrow. “Well, as part of the slideshow my kids created trying to convince me you’re the perfect person to watch them after school, Maggie included the federal background check she pulled on you.”
“What?”
“Believe me, that’s the tip of the iceberg with that child.
She is terrifyingly smart, and underestimating her would be the biggest mistake of anyone’s life.
” I shook my head and sighed. “Bryce is smart, too, he’s just .
. . less scary than her. They’re both good kids.
Well mannered, respectful—but when they’re bored, they come up with horribly reckless ideas.
My hope is that if I compromise with them on this—on you,” I amended, studying the flicker in her eyes when I said it, “they’ll compromise back by not breaking any laws for the next couple weeks. ”
For a moment, Lily didn’t speak. Then her eyes narrowed. “What kind of laws?”
“Do you want a list?” I asked dryly.
“If I’m going to be responsible for them? Yeah, maybe. I’m not . . . I’m not a nanny. I’ve never babysat anyone’s kids.”
For the first time since I’d walked in, Lily’s demeanor held an air of discomfort. Or that’s how it looked, at least.
“I don’t need a nanny. I just need someone to hang out in the same place as them after school.
Make sure they don’t eat sugar all night, do their homework.
” I wiped a hand over my mouth, letting my arm fall back to my side.
“I work a lot. My job—especially right now—is very demanding. But I’ll be in the offseason in a couple weeks, and a lot more available. ”
“What exactly do you do?” she asked.
It had been so long since anyone didn’t know me—as a player, then as a coach—that I’d almost forgotten what it was like to just be Barrett.
“I’m a coach,” I told her, watching her reaction carefully.
“Huh. What kind of coach?”
“Football. For the professional team here in Buffalo.”
She blinked. “Yeah, right.”
I pointed to the logo on my Henley. “I’m the head coach for the professional football team in Buffalo.”
“I thought head coaches lived in giant glass mansions and had a fleet of staff running their life.”
“You know, I’ve tried, but they keep quitting.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I think you’re screwing with me.”
“Trust me, I have better things to do with my time than lie about my job.”
“So you’re, like, famous,” she said. “People want your autograph and shit.”
I held her gaze. “Yes.”
Lily was unimpressed by this. “I suppose there’s no accounting for taste. So your entire week, all those hours you’re working, revolves around telling people what to do, and they listen. You say jump, et cetera, et cetera.”
Ah, so we were playing the subtext game? Got it. I let out a painfully slow, deep breath and tried valiantly to tamp down the surge of annoyance flickering in my chest. “With a few notable exceptions, yes, I suppose so.”
She nodded seriously. “Obviously, I’m counting your kids as those exceptions, because . . .” She gestured between us, leaving the implication hanging like an unpinned grenade. A habit of hers, I was finding.
I licked my bottom lip. “My kids listen to me most of the time. I meant the owner of the team. The GM. That sort of thing. They don’t answer to me.”
“That must be trying.”
A shocked gust of air left my mouth as I stared at this woman. It was strange—almost uncomfortably so—to have someone meet me head-on with such . . . I didn’t even know. Audacity?
Deference, I was used to. A certain level of respect afforded to me because of my position, even when the players did stupid shit like start fights and skip meetings.
But based on the absolutely unbothered way she spoke to me, she wanted to piss me off.
There was a distinct tightening in my stomach, and I ignored it.
“I’ll survive,” I answered dryly.
“Oh, goodie.” She picked up the bag and finished frosting another cookie, then wordlessly moved on to the next. How did she keep her hands so steady? They were all perfect. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“What?”
Her eyes moved up to mine. “Don’t blow a gasket. I changed my mind about the pay.”
“Are you negotiating for more?” I asked incredulously.
After another beat, her gaze returned to the baked goods. “Tempting, but no. I don’t want you to pay me at all.”
I pushed my tongue into the side of my cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Her hand made this seemingly innocuous little swirling motion on the frosting bag, and the result had me leaning in a little bit. How was she doing that?
“It strikes me as a horrible idea to put the two of us in a transactional relationship,” she said calmly.
One eyebrow arched slowly. “Does it?”
“You’re witnessing this, right? I’m no friendlier than you, cupcake, and my verbal filter is low on a good day, which is why I typically avoid people as much as possible.”
“So it’s not just me,” I mused. “I’m unbearably touched.”
Lily let out a small laugh. “Oh, it’s you.” Her eyes flicked between mine. “When someone tells me to jump, I don’t have the best track record.”
“You don’t say,” I said in mock disbelief.
In that woman’s mind, she was flipping me off with the biggest middle finger she could conjure.
I could see it in her eyes. “I don’t people if I can help it, but I liked your kids.
And since I spend most of my time alone, it won’t hurt me to, you know .
. . socialize or whatever for a couple weeks.
Maybe I’ll come out of this a friendlier, warmer Lily, who knows. ”
“Not sure my kids are that powerful,” I muttered.
Her lips pursed slightly, but she didn’t respond right away.
“You must be nicer at work than you are to your neighbors.”
“I’m nice to Scott and Patty.”
“If you think I’m not asking them questions about you after this, you’re out of your mind. How am I supposed to know you’re trustworthy?”
“You don’t,” I told her unflinchingly. “But you can trust that I’m honest. I don’t want to be here asking you this.
I want to be at home with my kids because I don’t get very many nights like that this time of year.
Even being home before they go to bed is a fucking miracle in this job, and that’s because I’ve had to fight for it.
If you say yes to this, you’re doing me, and my kids, a massive favor.
I don’t like asking favors of anyone outside of my parents, because then I feel like I’m in their debt.
It makes me uncomfortable, but I’m here because they matter more than that. ”
It was so much more than I wanted to say. And judging by the look on her face, she could tell. There was a slight softening, but other than that, Lily Townsend, with the bright hair and the tattoos, did a good job of keeping her facial expression locked down.
“Starting tomorrow, I’m assuming?” she said.
Relief had me exhaling heavily. “If you’re available. I’ll text you when I’m almost home, and you can send the kids over. You won’t even have to see me.”
She tilted her head. “Well now, that’s the perk you should’ve started with. I would’ve accepted immediately.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time.”
With brisk movements, Lily slid a dozen cookies into an airtight plastic container, the layers separated by wax paper.
“I’ll have some rules,” I told her.
Her full lips tipped up at the edges. “Of course you will.”
Her big dark eyes met mine as she pushed the cookies in my direction.
“Does that mean I get to eat some since I’m carrying them back home?”
“No.”
My jaw clenched, and she noticed, her smile deepening like she couldn’t help it. On both sides of her cheeks were the tiniest little dimples, and my stomach went tight that I’d even noticed.
“Regretting the offer already?” she asked, fake sweetness dripping off every inch of her tone.
“Yes,” I answered grimly.