Nanny I Want to Mate: A Single Dad Romance

by Mia Kayla

  “How’s Mama doing?” Patty approached the hospital bed and ran her hand down her mother’s arm.

  “Good. I changed her bedpan this morning. The nurse came in earlier to check her stats, and she’s fine.” I pulled Eleanor’s blanket higher, up to her chin. “She makes me laugh. Today, she wanted me to brush her dentures with a different toothpaste, not the normal one, but the whitening toothpaste.” A laugh escaped my lips. “The girl doesn’t even wear them anymore.”

  Patty smiled, staring at her mother and shaking her head. “You know she’s messing with you, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  Eleanor sure was an entertainer.

  When Patty wasn’t here, Eleanor wanted to show me albums upon albums of her family, which included her deceased husband, Henry.

  Their lives had been filled with happiness and vacations and endless laughter, something I’d never had while growing up, something that I was jealous of.

  I fidgeted with the end of my shirt. “I’ve started looking for a job already, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

  Patty turned to face me, her smile slipping. “Where will you be heading?” Concern was heavy in her eyes.

  Patty knew I had a past, but she didn’t pry. That was the stipulation of me coming on board—that she wouldn’t ask me about my past. In return, I would take care of her mother and move on to a less stressful future.

  I swallowed. I hadn’t planned my next course of action, but I couldn’t stay here long, couldn’t be too comfortable. It was time to leave, to pick up and move anywhere. I only stayed here longer than I’d anticipated because of my fondness for Eleanor and Patty. Plus, I was careful—really careful. I rarely went out, only for walks, and I always ordered our groceries for delivery. Honestly, it was the perfect job for someone who didn’t want to be found—someone like me.

  I rustled a hand through my long blonde locks. “I don’t know. Maybe somewhere colder. North.” I had money saved, but it would only last me so long. I needed a job that could pay me under the table. Something like this. “If you have any prospects,” I hinted, trying to hide my desperation, “any elderly person who needs care.”

  That was my expertise. I wasn’t grossed out easily, and I wasn’t a nurse, but in my former life—one where I could afford a college education, one where I wasn’t running—I would have been a nurse. I enjoyed taking care of people who couldn’t take care of themselves. Maybe it had been caused by my past, of no one taking care of me, growing up.

  Carl, an adult who was severely disabled, had been my first job that didn’t include waitressing or working at the grocery store. Carl was the first job I took that helped me disappear from the face of the earth. It had happened by pure accident, and even taking on the job as the caregiver for Eleanor had happened by pure accident.

  I was so grateful, but I was finding myself in need again. If only I could have the same luck …

  Patty eyed me, tipping her chin toward the table at the far end of the room. “Go sit. Let me get some coffee going.”

  “Oh, I’ll do it.” I was already heading toward the kitchen when she waved me off.

  “No. You sit. I’ve been on a plane and in a car half the day. I need to move and get my steps in.” She checked her Fitbit, noting her number of steps.

  After the pot of coffee brewed, she poured the liquid in a mug and walked over to the couch with two steaming cups.

  She leveled me with a stare after handing me my cup. “I know there are things going on with you.”

  My whole body tensed. Patty never asked me about my former life, a life that I wanted to forget. She knew the rules, but the concerned look in her eye told me that this time was different. If she asked me about my past, I wouldn’t be able to tell her. Mostly because I didn’t want anyone else involved in my mess.

  She placed one soft hand on mine on the table. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to pry. I don’t know your past. But I know you now.” She patted my hand twice, an affectionate look in her eye. “And I know you are a good person. A person who has taken exceptional care of my mother these past few years, even staying with her and lying by her at the hospital. Do you have plans for where you’re going to go? I need to know you’re going to be okay.”

  My eyes peered over to Eleanor in her bed, and the corner of my lips tipped upward. She was my confidant in all things. She’d suffered a stroke a few months ago, which had deteriorated her health. I’d refused to be away from her when she was at the hospital, staying right by her bed until the doctors decided that she could be cared for at home.

  My eyes focused on the lines etched on the table as I gripped the heart-shaped pendant they’d given me. “I’ll be okay. I just can’t …” I just can’t tell you where I’m going because I don’t know what my next steps are.

  But one thing I knew was that I was a survivor. I’d do what I had to do to survive.

  Patty ducked her head so that I had to meet her eyes. “I want to help you find a new job.” She tucked an escaping hair behind my ear. “I do. Because you helped me and because I know you have a good heart.”

  Her words hit me like a truck; her kindness was overwhelming. I nodded through tear-filled eyes, knowing I’d miss this family—my unconventional family.

  She nodded resolutely after watching me a moment, as if it was settled. “I will get you that job you need. But it will be in Illinois. If you are willing.”

  Chapter 4

  Charles

  I snuck out of Vivian’s bed, careful not to wake her, but as soon as I stood, she stirred and opened her eyes. She lifted her head from the pillow, and her eyes bore into mine. Her sleek black hair fell over her shoulders, and she pushed herself to a sitting position.

  “Charles? Leaving already?” Her glance slid my way, raking boldly over me.

  I nodded and slipped on my boxers and slacks. “Yes. Sorry, I have to get back home.”

  “Home. A home is not a house; it’s the people you choose to share it with.” Natalie’s words. Not mine.

  And although I had the girls I loved beyond comprehension, my home since Nat’s death had been incomplete. It was something that I’d come to terms with.

  “Charles,” she uttered, her voice silky.

  I had blanked out on Vivian again.

  I turned toward her, my face apologetic. She knew what our relationship was. I didn’t lie and pretend to be someone I wasn’t. I had been an empty shell of my former self since Natalie had passed. That was all I could give Vivian. It was all I had.

  “I’m sorry. My mind has been in other places.”

  All the stress from looking for a replacement for Patty was weighing me down. I’d been home for almost a week now, and there were still no prospects remotely qualified to fill Patty’s position.

  She smiled suggestively. “Your mind and other things were fine thirty minutes ago.”

  She tore off the covers and exposed herself. I turned away.

  It had taken two whole years for me to give in to Vivian’s flirtation, yet it didn’t let up the guilt. How could I be cheating when my wife was already dead?

  In the next second, her hands were around me, and her lips were against my neck. “Stay, Charles. I’ll make it worth it. I promise.”

  I extracted her hands and peered down at her. Vivian was stunningly beautiful with her light-olive skin and silky, straight jet-black hair that rested just above her waist.

  “You know I can’t. I have to get back to the girls.”

  Her calm, put-together demeanor faltered, and I exhaled deeply. I didn’t want to give her hope, hope for a future between us that would never come.

  “Vivian, maybe it’s time that we—”

  She went on her toes and silenced me with her lips. “Enough. We’ve discussed this. I’m okay with this arrangement, Charles. I know this is all you can give me right now.”

  I stared down at her, my eyes firm. “This is a permanent situation for me. This is all I can give you ever, and
you deserve more than what this is. You deserve a future with a guy who can stay the night. Vivian, you deserve dinner and a movie and not a couple of hours of sex every other week.”

  Her hands trailed up my chest, slowly running up and down my nipple. “I look forward to our sex sessions every other week.”

  I took her hands in mine, and my chest seized. I knew if I gave her an inch, she’d take it. Problem was, there was nothing in me left to give.

  “That’s the thing. You should look forward to more than that.”

  “I’m not looking for anything more, Charles.” She raised a fine, arched eyebrow. “I’m not the marrying or children type. You know this about me. And right now, this is all I have time for too.”

  Beautiful yet cutthroat, Vivian looked like a woman but was internally built like a man. She was a partner at the law firm that we used. She wasn’t the lawyer we dealt with because I wasn’t going to complicate my life any further.

  Like me, her time was limited, but the difference between us was that I chose to make time for my family.

  “I don’t want to be that guy who gives you false hope. I’ve told you time and time again, Viv, that you have so much to offer.”

  “Enough,” she said, her tone sharp yet playful. “You’ve always been honest with me. I’m an adult, Charles, and this is what I want.” She reached for the button on my slacks. “I want another hour, and that’s all.”

  Her lips met mine, and I flinched. The thing with Vivian worked because in the moments I was with her, I disconnected my heart from my body. Because that heart—the organ that pumped blood to every part of my body—belonged to someone else. And that someone else was no longer alive.

  The next morning, I walked into the kitchen and found Brad sitting at the kitchen table. He was a disheveled, hungover mess. His hair was not styled to his normal perfection, and his eyes were bloodshot. But he was dressed and all ready for work. This was nothing new, as this was his lifestyle that I was used to. As long as he showed up to work and did his job as VP and was present when the girls needed him, I didn’t care what he did afterward.

  One day, someone would knock him on his ass. Hopefully, a woman who would tame his wild ways.

  He stared up at me and waved a weak hand. “Hey. Where were you last night? You weren’t home when I left, which was pretty late.”

  I swallowed and walked toward the coffee machine. “Vivian’s,” I said the word curtly, brooking no further comment.

  I didn’t know why I felt guilty. We were all grown men. Some would judge his lifestyle more than my life choices. Still, I didn’t want to live this life. I’d tried to break it off with Vivian multiple times because I didn’t like how our relationship felt—like she was my dirty little secret.

  I judged my moral compass based on my children—whether they would be proud of me. Would they be proud that their father was leaving the house to have sex with a woman he wasn’t involved with seriously?

  No, they wouldn’t.

  But I admitted, I had needs, and I was a weak man. It didn’t make it easier that Vivian was a proponent of our convenient relationship.

  “You need to stop feeling guilty,” Brad said, reading my mind. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

  I ignored his comment. I didn’t judge Brad with his life choices. He never brought anyone home to meet the girls. That was an unspoken rule, and I knew he loved the girls like they were his own, so he wouldn’t anyway. He could live his life how he wanted to live his life … but me … I had children. Two girls. Without a mother. I needed to hold myself to a higher standard.

  “Drink some water. Sober up before the girls get up,” I said.

  “Nice to see you still hungover on a Monday morning,” Mason shot out as he strolled in, all ready for work in his crisp, pressed navy-blue suit, holding his portfolio. “Where did you go?”

  Brad groaned in his misery. “Bar, dinner, and then back to Kelly’s house.”

  “On a Sunday night?” Mason said, indignant. “And who the hell is Kelly?”

  “My new girlfriend.” Brad rubbed at his head, squinting as though it hurt to open his eyes.

  “You can’t call the new girl you just met at a bar your girlfriend.” Mason made a gagging noise in the back of his throat, as though he were going to throw up. “Thank God STDs are not airborne.”

  Brad rubbed at his temple. “Shh. Quiet.” He rested his head against his hands. “Anyway, what’s on the agenda for today?”

  Mason threw Brad a look before his head dipped down to his detailed schedule, the one he printed out every morning just for himself. “Sonia will give you your schedule when you get to work. But for me, besides today’s ten o’clock with the new supplier and our quarterly meeting with the managers, I’ve got nothing assigned. The agency just sent me more nanny résumés. I have to go through them, so we can set up more interviews this weekend.”

  Brad groaned again but for a whole different reason. I wanted to join him. I was beyond frustrated.

  Patty had returned from seeing her mother, but she hadn’t mentioned anything regarding her referral. If she didn’t by today, I was going to because my patience was all dried up.

  Mason shut his portfolio, taking his regular seat at the table. “I think we’re getting close though. To finding the perfect nanny. Not to worry. I’m a great people-reader.”

  Brad lifted his head and sported a heavy smirk. He threw me a look, and I discreetly shook my head.

  Hold your tongue, brother. It’s a lost cause.

  “Little bro”—Brad’s tone oozed with a light humor—“good people-reader? I’d have to question that, given your choice in women.”

  The smile slipped from Mason’s face. “Shut up, and that’s why you’ll be single for life. You’ll never have what Janice and I have.”

  Brad flinched, but in the next second, he shot back, “Yeah, if all I could get was a gold digger, then I’d rather be single for the rest of my life.”

  “Gold digger?” Mary sauntered in, surprisingly all dressed in her uniform, holding her favorite wand in her arms. “I want to be a gold digger.”

  I smirked, shaking my head.

  I had to hand it to Mary for breaking up all the tension in the room.

  Brad sobered up as though our mother had walked into the room. He pushed back his hair, scooped her up, and kissed her full, round cheeks. “You’ll never be a gold digger.”

  “But I want to. I have my own shovel in the garage. Where would we go digging for gold?” Her blue eyes were wide and so damn beautiful, just like her mother’s.

  Mason laughed beside Brad. “Well, there are public mining areas. I’ll have to look it up.”

  She pointed her wand at Mason. “You do that.” With her wand, she tapped the paper. “Are we going to look for my babysitter today? Because Teddy Monster is ready to ask the questions.” Her smile widened. “And I set up an obstacle course she’ll have to go through.”

  Mason and I shared an amused glance. An obstacle course? Only my daughter. If they could pass the Mary test, then they were hired.

  Mason touched the tip of her nose. “Not today, but this weekend.”

  Brad set Mary on her feet and took off out of the room. “Why can’t we move Patty’s mom here again?” he said, his voice defeated.

  I wasn’t about to answer his recurring question. He already knew why.

  Brad tipped back his chin, his stare wandering over to the door where Mary had exited. “We’ve been searching for weeks, and we haven’t found any person remotely qualified to watch our girls.”

  “Fourth time’s a charm; I’m sure of it,” Mason said, though I could tell even his optimism was waning.

  “I think the saying is, Third time’s a charm, and we are way past that,” Brad said.

  Patty strolled in, showered and ready to start the day. She threw a glance our way and smiled. “Why such the sullen faces, boys?”

  Brad groaned again. He walked to Patty, reached for her hand, and g
ot on his knees, as though he were about to propose.

  Patty threw back her head and laughed. “I think you’re a little young for me. This would be taking robbing the cradle to a whole other level.”

  I chuckled. Brad and his theatrics.

  He pouted. “No … stay, Patty. This is me begging you to stay.”

  She sighed, amused. “Get up, Bradley.”

  “Come on, Patty. We need you.” He took her other hand. “We’re a bunch of men, raising girls. I don’t want to even think about hormones and PMS and all those things girls go through. Who is going to answer their questions?”

  She tugged him up then and patted his cheek. “Sit down. Let me get breakfast ready and then the girls off to school, and we’ll talk about my replacement.”

  I perked up, wondering if she was finally going to give us this secret candidate she’d been holding on to.

  “That’s the thing; we’ve looked and interviewed, and every single one has failed.” Brad firmed up his shoulders.

  By the look on his face, I knew he was never giving up. It was one of his greatest qualities—determination.

  Patty threw me a glance, and I shrugged because he wasn’t lying there.

  “Patty, there was one who smelled like weed,” Brad said, disgusted. “Mary said she liked her perfume, which is a little scary. My niece was getting high on the fumes. Now, is that what you want to leave your girls—the girls you love, our innocent Mary and Sarah—to?” His stare was fixed on hers, challenging her.

  I had to give it to Brad; he wasn’t letting up.

  Patty sighed, and her shoulders slumped.

  “Let’s just say, no one can compare to you,” I said.

  “Well”—she tipped her chin—“that is true. But I think I have a solution. I will not leave my girls to a weed-smoking nanny, all right?”

  Brad nodded, looking every bit the winner in this match. “Okay, I’m glad you came to your senses. I’ll make the arrangements to have Eleanor moved here today.”