My heart throbs at the sight, which only confirms to me that Drake is raising good kids.

  Having been sick on occasion myself, I grab the essentials. A small bathroom garbage can with a clean bag, a hair tie from Kiera’s vanity, a cold ginger ale I find in the fridge, and both the Tylenol and ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. Finally, I grab a washcloth and run it under the coldest water the faucet will produce.

  At Kiera’s side, I help her to sit up so I can tie her hair out of the way. I crack the ginger ale and although she tries to refuse, I make her take a few sips. “Every time you throw up, you have to put some back in.”

  I drape the cloth over her forehead and then go back to the kitchen for a closer perusal of things. Realizing that I don’t have quite what I need to get Kiera feeling better, nor do I know how to feed three boys, I call Daniel. After I tell him what I need and where to deliver it, I head back into the living room.

  Kiera’s eyes are closed, and I reposition the cloth on her forehead. She startles, her eyes bloodshot and watery. “I feel like shit.”

  “You look like you feel like shit,” I say, and that earns me a smile. “I’ve got someone on the way with chicken noodle soup, Gatorade, and ice cream for the kids. Hope that’s okay?”

  “I wouldn’t normally give them ice cream this late, but I don’t have the strength to fight you.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I’d need it, but I don’t even know how to get kids ready for bed. I thought I might need it for bribery.”

  Again, a wan smile, but I take that to be a good sign.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs weakly. “I hated to call you—”

  “Stop,” I say with a stern look. “I gave you my contact information for you to use. I’m really happy to help.”

  “Is it because you and Drake are together?” she asks softly.

  My body locks tight, then I glance around to make sure the kids aren’t nearby before pinning my eyes on her. “What?”

  “Drake told me about you two.”

  “I’m… it’s not… I don’t…”

  “Relax,” Kiera whispers. “I’m too sick to even gossip with you about it, but for the record—and maybe it’s the fever talking—I think you two would be great for each other.”

  My head turns left, then right. I’m panicked, like the walls are closing in. Why would she say such things? She knows him better than anyone, so why would she ever think someone like her brother, who is very relationship averse, would be great for someone like me, who is also relationship averse?

  I start to tell her there’s nothing going on, and in fact, I’ve all but decided to call it quits because his sister thinks we’re great for each other, but she’s fallen asleep.

  Exhaling a shaky breath, I glance at my watch. Daniel won’t be here for a while, so I go check on the boys.

  When I step into their room, Jake looks up from the book and then the twins turn their heads my way. Three mini Drakes.

  “You boys doing okay?”

  Jake nods. “Is Aunt Kiera going to get better?”

  “I’m sure she will. It’s getting late, though, so I think you can get into your pajamas.”

  “We haven’t had dinner yet. Aunt Kiera couldn’t get off the couch.”

  “Oh,” I reply and have a mini panic attack. What do little boys eat?

  “She was going to make us macaroni and cheese,” Jake says.

  Relief surges through me. “Yes, I can totally make that. How about you guys get into your pj’s and I’ll go make your dinner? My friend Daniel is bringing some stuff over, and it’s quite possible one of those things might be ice cream.”

  Three sets of blue eyes light up. “We love ice cream,” one of the twins says.

  I have no clue which one, so I ask, “Are you Colby or Tanner?”

  “Colby,” he says.

  “No, he’s not.” Jake gives his brother a scolding look. “That’s Tanner, and he’s trying to trick you.”

  I walk up to the bunk beds, a faux tough expression but with my lips curled so they know I’m amused. I still have to tip my head back to look at them, letting my eyes move between the twins. I study them intently, knowing that no matter how identical they are, there will be something different.

  I spot it right away and point to Tanner’s forehead. “Your cowlick turns left. Your brother’s turns right.”

  Tanner grins, revealing a missing front tooth. “That’s how my dad tells us apart.”

  “Bet you still try to trick him, though, don’t you?”

  Tanner nods, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  Smiling, I look to Jake. “Can you handle helping your brothers?”

  “Yes,” he says, rolling over and scrambling down the ladder. “Will I get extra ice cream?”

  “Quite the little negotiator,” I muse as he jumps to the floor and comes toe to toe with me. “I like it. I’ll consider it if you help me get them ready for bed after, including a good tooth brushing.”

  “Deal,” he says, offering his hand.

  Laughing, we shake on it, and then I leave him to his job. I realize that I can absolutely delegate when I need to.

  CHAPTER 23

  Drake

  I’m exhausted. The extended road trip was a drain, but not in a bad way. There’s the physical toll of playing hockey, traveling, and sleeping in hotels, but it’s balanced by the competition that fuels us and the high of winning. Sometimes the high of winning can be just as depleting once you come down.

  This week we flew from Pittsburgh to Miami where we lost to the Spartans. From there we went to Atlanta where we beat the Sting last night, and I had another shutout. Rather than stay overnight, we hopped the bus to the airport and boarded our plane back to Pittsburgh. The greatest thing about the Titans owning a team plane is that we were out of there just after midnight, no hassles or delays.

  It’s almost two in the morning, and I’m looking forward to passing out for a few hours before the boys wake me up. They’re fond of crashing into my room and using me as a trampoline.

  Just thinking about it makes me smile, interrupted by a deep yawn as I walk up to the front door.

  Hitching my duffel on my shoulder, I slip the key into the lock and let myself in quietly. As I shut the door behind me, a sound catches my attention from the kitchen.

  I drop my bag and move through the living room, able to see thanks to the soft glow of a small table lamp. The kitchen is dark, but as I round the corner, moonlight filters in through the window over the sink. I see Kiera at the sink, rinsing a cup.

  Reaching out, I flip on the light. “Boo.”

  “Jesus,” Kiera gasps as she spins around, hand clutched to her heart, except… it’s not Kiera.

  It’s Brienne.

  A million things hit me at once, the first of which is utter shock at seeing the woman I’ve been having copious amounts of down-low and dirty sex with.

  In my home.

  Uninvited.

  Where is Kiera? Did she let Brienne in to wait for me?

  Why has Brienne suddenly taken it upon herself to cross the lines we drew? I’ve never invited her here, and it’s telling that there’s not a single molecule inside me that’s happy to see her in my personal space.

  Maybe I’m just exhausted and stupefied, and I’m sure I’ll regret my words later, but I growl, “What are you doing in my home?”

  Not house, but home. A private, personal place.

  She had a slight smile when we originally locked eyes, and if I read it right, it was happiness to see me. It’s gone now, though, her expression shuttered. What little that bleeds through is guarded.

  “Where are the boys? Kiera?” I demand, knowing instinctively it’s stupid and unnecessary to ask.

  “Sleeping,” she grits out.

  Yeah… those were bad questions.

  I close my eyes, pinch the bridge of my nose, and sigh. I need to start over and not come off as a jackass, but I’m spinning a bit out of control.

  Something brushes by me… a mere whisper of movement. My eyes pop open, and I turn to see Brienne stomping through the house.

  She heads right for the front door, grabbing her purse.

  I scramble after her, taking hold of her arm before she can escape. “Wait a minute.”

  Brienne jerks away but wheels to face me. She says nothing because her glare speaks volumes.

  “I’m sorry. I was caught off guard.” Lame explanation, and there’s no way I can defend the tone with which I questioned her. It came off exactly as I felt at that moment… as if she was redefining the boundaries of our relationship without consulting me first.

  Within that frigid expression, I realize that her being here doesn’t have anything to do with what’s between us. Which means… something is wrong with someone in my family and panic bursts within me.

  She must read the horrid thoughts flashing through my brain because she holds up a hand. “Kiera has the flu. She called me last night because she was pretty sick, and the only other person she knows is Jenna, but she was on the road trip.”

  “Is she—”

  “She’ll be fine. Her fever finally broke a few hours ago. I fed the boys and put them to bed. I was just waiting for you to come home before I left. Kiera’s pretty weak, and I didn’t want to leave the kids alone.”

  “Christ,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. “I’m sorry, Bri. Thank you for coming over and helping—”

  “You’re welcome,” she clips out and turns for the door.

  “Please, just wait.” I grab her wrist, as close to begging as I’ve ever come with any woman. “Don’t go.”

  She stills, looking at me warily.

  I take in a breath and let it out. “When I saw you in the kitchen, I…” Fuck, this is painful to admit. “I was pissed.”

  “You thought I crossed a line without permission,” she says quietly, tugging her wrist free but not bolting for the door. “You thought I was here, perhaps taking more than what you had offered.”

  I’ll never lie to her. “Yeah… that’s exactly what I thought. And I was obviously wrong.”

  “Well,” she says calmly, lifting her chin, “you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t want anything more than what you offer. I was only here to help Kiera.”

  Fuck. Why does that sting? Why wouldn’t she want more from me? Yes… I know I’m contradicting myself. Talk about a mixed bag of emotions—but it also hits me like a ton of bricks… Brienne came and took care of my sister.

  My children.

  Walked away from whatever mountain of work I know she had and selflessly gave of herself. She didn’t do it for me either, but because she’s a good woman.

  Her words are efficient as she leaves instructions. “I got Kiera’s fever to break by alternating Tylenol and ibuprofen. Her next dose of Tylenol is due in three hours. Four more hours after that, hit her with ibuprofen. She had some vomiting earlier, but that seems to have settled. Cold ginger ale and some crackers are all she’s been able to keep down, but I’ve managed her hydration. There’s Gatorade and soup in the fridge, if she can tolerate it.”

  Once again, she moves for the door, and I don’t grab for her this time.

  I use words instead. “Don’t go.”

  She freezes, her head bowed slightly, but she doesn’t turn to face me.

  Stepping up behind her, I slip my arms around her waist and pull her against my body. “I’m the biggest asshole around. You didn’t deserve that.”

  Brienne relaxes into me without hesitation. She could make me suffer by refusing my embrace, but she doesn’t. “I get it,” she says. “I know it was a shock to see me here. I would have texted, but Kiera didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Were the boys freaked out?” I ask.

  “There were some tears. They were a little scared, but ice cream made it all better.”

  Chuckling, I squeeze her. “And you said you didn’t know how to communicate with kids. You’ve totally got it figured out.”

  “Ice cream is universal,” she says, but then to my disappointment pulls free. Turning to face me, I note her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I really should get going. I have to be in by eight for a meeting with Coach West, and I need a little sleep.”

  Reaching back, her fingers touch the doorknob and something close to panic wells up inside me.

  “Stay the night,” I blurt out.

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

  “Come get a bit of sleep with me. I know you’re exhausted.”

  “You and I don’t sleep when we’re together,” she points out.

  “I’ll be a gentleman. I promise.”

  Brienne shakes her head. “Not a good idea. I don’t think the boys should find me here… you know… with you. In your room. It’s not right.”

  “The couch,” I say, reaching out and taking her hand. I walk backward and pull her along. “Just lie down with me for a bit. I’ll set the alarm for six, which is long before the boys wake up, and you’ll have plenty of time to get home for a shower and be at the office before eight.”

  Brienne glances back at the door, and I use the opportunity to pull her purse from her grip. I toss it on a chair and tug her right down onto the couch with me.

  I lie back, arranging her body to drape over mine, and she feels better than any blanket. She’s wearing a pair of soft stretchy pants, and my fingers slide under the band just an inch to stroke the skin on her lower back. My dick twitches, but she needs sleep, not sex.

  I wrap my arm around her to hold her in place, and her head nestles into the crook of my neck. She sighs, her breath floating across my skin as her arm tightens around me. Sliding a leg in between mine and wiggling to get comfortable, she asks, “How did you play tonight? I didn’t get to see the game.”

  “A shutout. We won 3–0.”

  “That’s awesome,” she replies, but her words are laced with fatigue. She’s been working her ass off to care for Kiera and my boys for the last several hours.

  “Get some sleep,” I order, but she doesn’t respond.

  She’s already out.

  ♦

  The alarm on my phone goes off at six, and immediately I know Brienne’s gone. Her warm weight felt way too good, and I’m disappointed she’s not here.

  Scrubbing my hands over my face, I tap the alarm and swing my legs off the couch.

  Brienne was here in my house, and I asked her to stay the night. And she did, for at least part of it. We didn’t have sex. She took care of my kids and my sister.

  Goddamn it, things have changed, and I didn’t want them to. I’m not ready now, nor do I think I ever will be ready, to let a woman back into my life where she’s in a position of trust. Crystal is dangerous in her drug addiction. It makes me want to puke when I think of the times she was with the boys—had driven the boys—and was probably high. Had something happened to them, it would have been my fault for not seeing what was right in front of my eyes.

  It’s not that I think Brienne does drugs or that she’s dangerous. I’m sure my kids and Kiera were in capable hands with her.

  The best hands, actually.

  But one thing being married to Crystal taught me is that you never truly know someone. We were together nine years, having met during our freshman year in college. She got pregnant with Jake two years after that, and we got married. Next came an NHL career and two more boys. It had been a full life, but it wasn’t until she’d become so erratic near the end that I understood something was very wrong.

  Once I figured out it was drugs, and she refused to go to rehab or get clean, I moved to cut her out of our lives. That resulted in her going on the offensive, leveling the allegations against me that Wolves ownership and management believed, and that led me to… well, here.

  I didn’t want a relationship.

  I don’t want a relationship.

  I look at the door and ask myself, Why did you ask her to stay? And why are you disappointed she’s gone?

  I don’t let myself answer because I’m afraid of what I might say.

  Pushing up from the couch, I head upstairs. I check on the boys first, glancing into their room. All three are still lumps under their blankets.

  I move to Kiera’s room. Her door is open, and the rising dawn provides enough light as I enter that I can see she’s asleep. I bend over and touch her forehead, relieved to find it cool, but a bit clammy.

  She stirs and her eyes flutter open. “Hey,” she rasps as she sits up against the headboard. “You just get in?”

  “A few hours ago. Brienne was here.”

  “Sorry if it was awkward that I called her. I was so sick I couldn’t even get off the couch, and I was worried about the boys.”

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, angling toward her. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing something to help the boys or yourself. You did the right thing.”

  Kiera nods and reaches out to the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of water. She takes a sip and grimaces.

  “Want something else?” I ask.

  She nods, handing me the bottle. “Some cold ginger ale. Lots of ice.”

  “How about a visit to the doctor?” I suggest as I rise from the bed.

  Kiera shakes her head. “I already feel much better. I bet by tomorrow, I’m as good as new.”

  I cock my eyebrow, because I know she must’ve been really bad off to call Brienne. “On the off chance you’re not, I’m going to have someone on standby who can help with the kids if needed.”

  We’ve got a home game tomorrow, so I’ll be in and out between that and today’s practice. But the team has a roster of wives who are happy to help out in times such as these. I never even thought to give that to Kiera, though. I also know Jenna will be glad to help if necessary.

  Brienne is not an option again, not because I don’t want her here—because clearly I do to some extent, as evidenced by me asking her to stay last night—but because she’s busy running an empire. She doesn’t have time to play nursemaid or babysitter, although I know deep in my gut, she’d do it if I asked.