The Stud Next Door

by Kendall Ryan

  I shoot him a glare and he glares back, his eyes saying, What? You need a nanny, dude, and she’s perfect.

  “Oh,” she says with a laugh, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t know. I’ve never been a nanny before.”

  She carefully adjusts Marley so that she’s supported comfortably. An unfamiliar warmth floods through my chest at the sight of my baby girl in Jessa’s careful embrace.

  “I guess I do need a part-time job,” she says, more to herself than to me. “What’s her name?”

  “Marley,” I say, hardly recognizing my own voice.

  “Marley.” Jessa coos, nuzzling her nose against my daughter’s soft hair. “The perfect name for a perfect little girl.”

  Hayes cuts in. “And he’s Connor, the dad. Could you give him your number?”

  He means well, but this recruitment is downright aggressive. And annoying as hell.

  Shaking my head, I say, “Please excuse my pushy ass of a friend. You don’t have to—”

  “No, I don’t mind. I’ll put it in your phone. Trade you.”

  With a moment’s hesitation, I pull out my phone, and Jessa and I swap baby and device with minimal fumbling.

  As her quick fingers type her number into my phone, her thumb ring catches my eye. It’s delicate and feminine, a simple band wrapped around a small amber jewel. Did her boyfriend give that to her?

  “Here you go. Nice to meet you, Connor,” she murmurs, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her rosy cheeks. When she gives my phone back to me, our fingers brush with an electric shock.

  “Sorry,” she says. “Static electricity.”

  “All good.” I chuckle, smiling sincerely for the first time in weeks. Nice to meet you too, Jessa.

  As the sun begins its descent, Jessa and the Wilkeses head into the house. Marley is fast asleep in the crook of my arm. The guys are finishing off their final beers for the evening, and I’m utterly exhausted.

  “Hire that girl,” Hayes says firmly, clapping me on the shoulder. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself. You need the help.”

  “Come on,” I say with a scoff. “You heard her. She has no experience.”

  He shrugs. “Well, she knew how to get Marley to stop crying. She seemed pretty experienced to me.”

  I release a slow sigh. “I’ll think about it. Now, get out of here so I can put Marley down for the night.”

  “Let’s leave the man alone,” Wolfie says quickly. He can always sense when it’s time to leave, which is one of the things I love about him.

  The guys say their good-byes, and before I know it, I’m alone again. Just me and my baby girl.

  I miss having Wolfie as a roommate more than I’d like to admit, but we’re both better off this way. No need to have both of us losing sleep at night, effectively knocking down Frisky Business’s production levels by half. Besides, the man’s in love, and with my sister, no less. Our friendship needed some space.

  After kicking off my shoes, I heat up some leftovers and carry my plate and Marley into the living room. After I settle the baby into her body pillow on the couch beside me, I grab my dinner and the remote.

  This is my favorite part of the day. I’ve worked hard to get Marley on a schedule. I know that I’ll have to adjust it as she gets older, but for now, she crashes by seven, so this quiet time we get together before bed is pretty sweet. As I eat, she blinks up at me and listens to my predictions about Chicago’s hockey team this season.

  “Nystrom’s looking good this year,” I say, glancing at her. “I wonder if you’ll be a hockey fan like your old man.”

  She stretches her arms over her head and lets out a yawn. I chuckle and take another bite of my food.

  I hope we can share quiet moments like this as she grows. Eating pizza. Watching the game. Maybe even a little trash-talking about the opposing team. The idea of a precocious teenager with Beth’s blue eyes and my dark hair sharing in some smack talk about any team who’s not Chicago brings a smile to my face. I never imagined myself as a dad before, but now I can’t imagine not having Marley in my life.

  By the time I’ve finished eating, Marley’s already asleep.

  I carry her to her bedroom where her crib and changing station live. I’ve become something of an expert in changing diapers quickly and without any fuss.

  Marley is still sound asleep when I lay her down on the soft mattress pad of her crib. In these moments, I don’t feel like an actor performing the role of father. I am her father.

  I watch her sleep, all soft sighs and tiny grasping fingers. I love this little girl so damn much.

  The soft look on Jessa’s face when she held Marley flashes through my thoughts. It was almost like she loved Marley too. Like she was her own.

  I shake off the thought, recognizing it for what it is—my dad brain desperately looking for a mate to help rear my child. But even I know it wouldn’t be healthy to fixate on the cute neighbor who settled my baby one time.

  Talk about delusional.

  As attracted as I am to Jessa, I can’t let my imagination get the better of me. Even so, I can admire her bright blue eyes and distinct freckles. I can fantasize about her full lips, how they might feel under my fingers, under my own lips.

  She’s beautiful, and if I weren’t emotionally unavailable, I wouldn’t have questioned pursuing her. I would have pursued and kept pursuing until she was in my bed. But the reality is that I can’t afford any distractions right now. Not when a tiny life depends on my full attention.

  You need the help.

  Hayes may have had a point. I can’t stay holed up in my house as a full-time dad forever. I have to take breaks, I have to have fun, and most importantly—I have to get back to work.

  Sitting on the edge of my bed, I tap out a text before I can psych myself out.

  If you’re interested in that nanny position, let’s talk. Would you be free for a chat tomorrow?

  I press SEND. The message is direct and professional, with no indication of exactly how much I’m attracted to Jessa. And if I have any control over my libido, she’ll never know.

  2

  * * *

  JESSA

  This is not how I expected my summer to go. You couldn’t even make this up if you tried.

  The day I move into my new place, the perfect job practically falls into my lap? It’s like a dream. Or a fantasy. Maybe I should check and make sure I’m not passed out on the side of the road somewhere in Wicker Park.

  And it all happened so easily.

  The stud next door needs a nanny. As the oldest of six, I know a thing or two about babies. Sure, I might not have direct experience, but my mom always had her hands full, and when there are that many little ones running around, you learn to start taking care of each other.

  Besides, the man didn’t know about gas bubbles, so I’m thinking I’ve got something to offer. He needs help, and I’m more than happy to provide him that service. Especially if that means I get to stare a little longer into those dreamy green eyes.

  Connor Blake. Oh yeah, he’s dreamy, all right. Who has a name like that in real life?

  I couldn’t get a read on whether he actually wanted to hire me or not, but his friends seemed so encouraging about the idea, that either way, he went with it. Watching the adorable baby next door would certainly be a sweet gig, not to mention that the commute would be ideal. Stumbling next door in yoga pants? Sign me up.

  When we texted last night, Connor seemed a little stiff and short, communicating in brief phrases and one-word responses, but he agreed to have me over today. Whether that means this is an interview or if I have the job, I’m not quite sure. But I’ve got my fingers crossed, and my toes for good measure.

  Because, let’s be honest—I wasn’t looking forward to applying and interviewing for jobs while trying to explain that I’m preparing to move to Central America in a few months. That doesn’t exactly scream, “Hire me now.”

  With a huff, I toss my phone onto the bed and decide to get rea
dy. This hair isn’t going to tame itself. And showing up to my first day (or interview or whatever it is) with an unruly mane of frizzy curls isn’t exactly the best way to start off on the right foot.

  I breeze through my cute little living room, admiring my new setup. I spent all afternoon perfecting the placement of my macramé wall hanging over the pale blue velvet couch, and the retro lamp I found at a garage sale last weekend turned out to be the perfect fit.

  And I was lucky to find this rental on such short notice. The fact that it’s the upstairs of an older couple’s house means that I don’t have to put my name on anything, I just hand them the money and peace out when my time comes. Not that that means I won’t do my fair share of nesting in the meantime.

  I check my appearance in the mirror, running my fingers through my curly long brown hair. I’ve kept my makeup light—just a little concealer and a few dabs of bronzer on the apples of my cheeks.

  After slipping on a pair of shorts and a top I don’t mind getting a little spit-up on, I take one last glance at myself in the mirror before heading out the door. The thought of Connor laying eyes on so much of my bare legs sends a little buzz of electricity down my spine.

  Down, girl.

  I never knew the single-dad thing could be so hot, but Connor is very attractive, dad or not.

  I stuff my phone in my pocket, lock the door behind me, and take the less-than-a-minute walk from my door to Connor’s. I can still feel the buzz of anticipation running along my spine as I wait for him to answer, and when the door opens, it transforms into a full-on zap.

  Was his chest this broad and lickable yesterday? I wouldn’t know—he wasn’t wearing a gray T-shirt this fitted that hugs all his muscles.

  His green eyes meet mine, and my insides liquify. I didn’t know a person could actually have a dazzling smile. But there he is, Connor Blake, dazzling away at me with sweet baby Marley in his arms.

  “Hey, Jessa, come on in.”

  It’s hard not to swoon at the sound of his voice, warm and smooth like a scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top of a freshly baked brownie.

  All right, now I’m horny and hungry. Focus, Jessa.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, squeezing past him as he steps out of the doorway.

  Baby Marley gurgles as I pass, and I smile and give her a little wave. She looks up at me, her big blue eyes shining with delight before she rests her face on her daddy’s shoulder. It’s so adorable, I’m about ready to die.

  “Oh, you’re being shy now? Because you were awfully chatty just a few minutes ago,” Connor says, his voice light and playful as he talks to his daughter.

  Okay, scratch that. Now it’s so adorable I’m ready to die.

  “Hi, Marley,” I coo, waving again. “It’s me, Jessa. Your neighbor.”

  Marley peers up at me from her daddy’s chest, her lips parted in a sweet, gummy smile.

  Connor grins. “I think she likes you.”

  I think she likes you too.

  Talking about myself in the third person? Probably a sign that I’m not fit to watch his child. Thank God he can’t hear what I’m thinking.

  “Why don’t we show you around,” he says.

  He shifts Marley onto his other side and leads me through the entryway and into the living room, complete with a charcoal-gray accent wall, sleek built-in shelving, and a plush suede couch. It’s homier than I imagined a bachelor pad would be—although I’m not sure it still counts as a bachelor pad if a two-month-old lives there as well.

  “Obviously, this is the living room,” he says, gesturing awkwardly.

  I nod, realizing that I haven’t said a word to the man since I set foot into his house, and manage to squeak out, “It’s nice.” Smooth, Jessa.

  Connor nods and waves for me to follow him through the open-concept floor plan and into the kitchen.

  “Formula’s in the pantry. She breastfeeds when she’s with her mom, but we’ve had a few miscommunications on pumping and passing on the milk lately. So it’s back to keeping some formula in the house.” He plants a kiss on the top of Marley’s head, the look in his eyes somewhere between optimistic and frustrated.

  “Has she been taking to the bottle okay?” It’s not that I’m trying to pry, but if I’m going to help out around here, I need the full scoop. We’ll get to Marley’s mom in a minute.

  He sighs. “Yes and no. She’s been hit or miss lately. I know she’s hungry, but it’s like she’s picky or something.”

  “Well, you’re warming the formula, right?”

  Connor looks at me like I just spoke to him in Czech. “That’s . . . something I’m supposed to be doing?”

  “I mean, you don’t have to, but if she’s being finicky about the bottle, and she’s used to the breast . . .”

  He flashes me another one of his dazzling smiles. “See? This is why I need you. Desperately. We need you. I’m the idiot who serves his daughter cold formula. Please tell me you’ll help us out. I’m willing to beg.”

  That string of short sentences makes me weak in the knees. So do his broad chest and white smile. Seriously, the guy is gorgeous.

  “Of course. I would love to be Marley’s nanny,” I say, smiling and tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Thank God,” he says on a relieved breath. Then he smiles widely at Marley. “Baby girl, Jessa is your new nanny. Actually, no, she’s our lifesaver,” he says brightly.

  Marley gurgles in a way I’m deciding means she’s happy, and Connor leads me upstairs for the rest of the tour.

  “But I should tell you, I’m only available for the next two months. I have an assignment in Central America with a nonprofit organization all lined up then.” I told him yesterday that I only needed something short-term, but it’s best to be up front about things, I’ve found.

  He nods. “Okay then. Two months. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “So, does Marley see her mom often?” I ask, keeping my voice as casual as possible. Because it’s not like I’m trying to ask about his love life. That’s not what I’m interested in at all.

  We enter Marley’s bedroom, an adorable little nook painted pale pink. The crib linens, the rug in the center of the room, the curtains over the large bay window—all pink. Oh yeah, this guy totally went all out for his daughter.

  “We’re not together, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says with a mischievous smile.

  My cheeks flame. “Oh no, I was—”

  “Nah, I’m just joking with you,” Connor says quickly, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

  Not fair.

  “We only dated for a couple of months before we got this little surprise,” he says, nodding to Marley, who’s currently drooling very happily onto his forearm. “Don’t get me wrong—Marley’s the best thing to ever happen to me. But it’s not like her mom and I were planning on being together forever.”

  Point one for Jessa.

  “We share custody. Marley stays with her mom a couple nights a week, and she’s with me the rest of the time. It’s all very amiable, but that’s also why I only need the help part time. Between my kid and my business, there are a lot of balls to keep in the air.” He chuckles a little at his own joke, and something tells me I’m missing out on the whole story.

  “You own your own business?”

  “Co-own. My buddies, who you had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting yesterday, and I own a sex-toy shop downtown . . . Frisky Business.”

  Jaw, meet floor.

  Not only is this man hotter than hell and adorable with his baby girl, now he’s well-versed in the bedroom too? As if it wasn’t hard enough to keep myself from eye-fucking him throughout this whole home tour, now I have to live with the information that he owns a sex-toy store?

  Good times.

  Connor scans my face, watching for any sign of disapproval. Or maybe for signs of arousal? I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I know he’s looking. And that’s enough to send another buzz straight to my core.

 
Act normal, Jessa.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “I might have to head downtown and check it out one day,” I say, my body feeling like it’s going to combust at any moment.

  Connor licks his lips, and if I’m not mistaken, heat flashes through his eyes as he looks at me. “Tell me when, and I’ll give you a grand tour of the store.”

  This is going to be a summer job unlike any other.

  3

  * * *

  CONNOR

  “Are you kidding me with this thing?”

  The electric-blue dildo hangs limply between two manicured fingers. It’s held by my first customer of the day, a woman so disenchanted by what I assume is her first visit to a sex-toy shop that I actually feel sorry for her. Her face is set in a resolute frown, the toy held out with disgust in front of her, not unlike how I held my first dirty diaper.

  “It’s your favorite color,” her boyfriend points out.

  Isn’t this how it always goes? One wants to try something new, but the other is resistant. One’s looking for a little extra spice in the bedroom, but the other’s a fan of the same old, same old. It’s a matter of finding something that pleases both parties. Lucky for them, I specialize in toys for curious couples. By the time I’m done with these two, they’ll be scampering back to bed to play with their new unmentionables.

  “Sounds like you’re looking for something a little more subtle,” I murmur, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. Damn, I’m overdue for a shave. “I think I have just the thing. Come with me.”

  The couple follows me farther into the store. I haven’t been here in almost two months, but these customers would never know the difference. I move through the displays with ease, pleased to find everything in its correct place. I let the couple peruse the shelves of discreet toys for a moment before I pluck a sample product off the shelf and pass it over.

  “How about this? It’s called the Joie De Vivre.”

  I hear Hayes snort from the front counter, trying to cover his laughter. The man knows my strategy. After the customers have explored on their own, sometimes laughing at the toys that verge on the cusp of garish, sometimes blushing with a bit of discomfort, I impress them with the sleek, expensive stuff. Works every time.