Nanny With Benefits: A May-December Romance (Temperance Falls: Experience Counts Book 3)

by London Hale

  He grabbed the base of his cock and pulled out of me, excusing himself as he headed to the en suite bathroom. He was back in a flash, kissing his way up over my abdomen.

  “We are so not starting again,” I said, stretching as his hands skimmed over my waist. He settled on top of me, his hips between my knees, his head against my chest, and his hand stroking and pinching my nipple in an almost unconscious way. Josh was a snuggler. Perfect.

  We lay there for quite a while, sometimes whispering to each other, sometimes just enjoying the silence as the sun rose higher outside the windows. It was peaceful and intimate, more so than any other experience in my life. This was what I wanted, what I’d always wanted—a deep, meaningful connection with a good man. True, I hadn’t expected that man to be so much older than me, nor had I ever guessed he’d be my boss. But those things fell by the wayside. My heart chose him, my body chose him, I chose him. Nothing else mattered.

  Famous last words…or thoughts, in this situation.

  “Bee?” The voice that sounded through the house froze us both. Josh’s eyes grew wide, surprise evident. “Daddy? Bee? Where are you?”

  At the sound of the herd of little feet moving closer, we both jumped up. Clothes-clothes-clothes. I needed my—shit.

  “My clothes are downstairs,” I hissed, yanking the sheet from his bed and wrapping it around myself.

  “Daddy?” Max hollered, sounding tired and whiny. Not a good combination.

  “Be right down, buddy.” Josh opened a drawer and dug inside before tossing me a shirt. “Put this on.”

  It was dark cotton, long and soft. And as I went to slide inside the T-shirt, I noticed the lettering.

  “Really?” I said even as my smile went wide at the thought of what I was wearing. “Your baseball shirt?”

  He shrugged, almost smiling. “I like the idea of you in my clothes. Especially something with my name on the back.”

  “You’re kind of a caveman, Dr. Hutton.”

  “Would you believe me if I said I’ve never been this way before? Apparently, you bring out the caveman in me, baby.”

  With one final kiss and a heck of a handful of my ass grabbed, he slipped out the door.

  “Max. What are you doing home, buddy?”

  “Daddy! There you are.”

  I grinned. God, those two were adorable together. I waited until I heard the sounds of Josh’s footsteps on the stairs before heading for the door. Two minutes—that was all I needed to get to my room, throw on some shorts, and head downstairs to see why my little guy was back so soon.

  But fate had a way of stepping in and fucking everything up.

  Josh’s mother walked out of Max’s room just as I walked out of Josh’s. My eyes met hers, my hands dropping to the hem of the T-shirt with Northwestern emblazoned across the front. There was no doubting what Josh and I had been doing.

  “Mrs. Hutton.” I nodded, striding for my door as if I hadn’t just gotten caught fucking her son. My boss. Oh hell.

  “Bailey. I’ll give you time to…clean yourself up.”

  I nodded and hurried into my room, my eyes pricking with embarrassed tears as I shut the door behind me. What had I just done?

  The life of a single dad wasn’t glamorous. It meant shuffling things, rearranging my life in order to make my son my number one priority. Because of that, I didn’t even pause as I left a nearly naked Bailey in my bedroom, still smelling of sex, and went to scoop up Max as he trudged up the stairs. His face was devoid of color, his body drained of energy.

  My mom stood behind him in the entryway, lugging his suitcase, a frown marring her face. “Sorry to barge in, honey, but I’ve been trying to call.”

  I waved her off because, really, even though I’d been halfway to fucking Bailey again, my mom bringing my son home never would have been construed as barging in. I’d no doubt feel guilty later about her not being able to get a hold of me when I knew exactly why I’d been unreachable, but there wasn’t time for that now. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t feel good, Daddy.” Max rested his head on my shoulder, and I pressed my cheek to him, immediately feeling how warm his forehead was.

  “Fever?” I asked Mom.

  She nodded. “He complained this morning of a sore throat and a tummyache, but I figured we’d see how things went. His temp was holding pretty solid at ninety-nine, so we just went about our day. But then he fell asleep watching a movie, and when I checked his temp again after he woke up, it’d spiked to 102. He said he wanted to come home.”

  “I want Bee,” he said, his voice close to tears.

  Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I said, “She’s right upstairs, buddy. She’ll be down any minute, okay?”

  He nodded and clung to me, his little fists clutching my shirt.

  Turning to my mom, I asked, “Have you been giving him fluids?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Joshua, I have raised children before.”

  I chuckled and held Max closer to me, rubbing a hand down his back. “I’m not disputing that. But I am a doctor. I ask these kinds of questions.”

  She smiled, reaching out to run her finger down Max’s cheek. “I’ve been pushing water and juice all day, but he hasn’t been interested.”

  “Does your throat still hurt, buddy?”

  He nodded against my shoulder, burrowing closer into my chest as I walked us to the kitchen.

  “I’m going to get him something now,” I called over my shoulder.

  “Okay, honey. I’ll bring his suitcase up to his room.”

  Once we got into the kitchen, I set him on the island, then went to get him a bottle of the Pedialyte I always kept stocked in the fridge. You can take the doctor out of the hospital… “All right, buddy. We need you to drink something so you don’t get even sicker. You want grape or cherry?”

  “No, Daddy. I don’t want it! It’ll make my throat hurt more,” he whined, tears pooling in his big, brown eyes.

  “How about an ice pop instead?” Whoever at that corporation had come up with freezer pops made of the same stuff in the bottle was a goddamn genius. “Red, orange, blue, or purple?”

  “Red, please.”

  “So polite, even when you feel like doo-doo, huh?”

  He gave a watery giggle, his tears subsiding as I gave him the plastic sleeve, watching as he sucked on the ice pop like it was his first meal in a week. I brushed the hair back from his face, trying not to worry at how warm his forehead was against my hand.

  When I heard my mom walk into the kitchen, I didn’t even glance at her as I asked, “Have you given him any meds today?”

  “What? Oh, um, last dose was about four hours ago. He could use another.”

  I nodded and went to the cabinet above the fridge, grabbing the bottle down and doling out his dosage. “Here, buddy, take this quick, then you can have your ice pop back.” Grabbing the plastic sleeve only half full of slush, I swapped it out for the tiny cup of orange liquid.

  Max dutifully swallowed it before reaching for his freezer pop once more. His face was pale, his skin clammy. I hoped it was just a virus and he wasn’t coming down with strep throat.

  “Honey?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered distractedly, never taking my eyes off Max.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Something in the tone of her voice had me glancing back at her. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her eyes hard. With a kiss to Max’s forehead, I stepped over to where my mom stood by the entryway into the kitchen.

  “What’s up?”

  “Look, honey, you’ve been an adult for a long time, and I stopped trying to interfere with your life a while ago—”

  “Well, that definitely doesn’t sound like the intro to you interfering with my life,” I said with an eye-roll. “I know you’ve raised kids before, but Max is mine. If you don’t agree with my giving him an ice pop to help keep him hydrated, too bad—”

  “No, no. That’s not it.” She wrung her hands,
then brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she straightened her shoulders, seeming to steel herself for whatever she was about to say. “When I was upstairs dropping Max’s suitcase off in his room, I saw Bailey.”

  “Okay…”

  “Coming out of your room, half naked.”

  While I figured this conversation would come sooner rather than later, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with it happening right that second while Max wasn’t feeling well. “I think it’s a little late for the birds and bees talk, Mom.”

  “Joshua,” she snapped. Then in a lower voice, she said, “I don’t think I need to remind you that girl has been a blessing to Max these past months.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Then I suppose I also don’t need to remind you she’s a paid employee and not a prostitute.”

  I whipped my head around to look at Max, hoping he hadn’t heard what his grandmother just said. His focus was intent on sucking the last bit of liquid from the plastic tube. With an exhale, I turned back to my mother. Working hard to keep my temper in check and my voice as low as I could manage, I said, “And I don’t think I need to remind you I’m thirty-nine and an adult. I haven’t let my mother make my decisions for a long time, and I’m not going to start now.”

  “I’m not trying—”

  I held up a hand to stop her, attempting to push down the anger rushing to the surface. Not able to speak to her right that second for fear of what I’d say, I turned around and got Max down, then patted his butt. “Why don’t you head up to your room, buddy. Bailey can help you get into your jammies and get started on a story before nap time, okay?”

  He trudged out of the room, his gait slow and lethargic.

  Once he disappeared around the corner and up the stairs, I turned back to my mother. “I can’t believe you said that while Max was in the room. I can’t believe you said that, period. That’s Bailey you’re talking about. What the hell, Mom?”

  “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. But when I saw—”

  I cut her off again because I knew exactly what she saw, and it was still none of her damn business. “Look, Mom, I love you, and I know you’re saying this because you’re trying to look out for Max and me. But if you ever refer to Bailey as a prostitute again, even offhandedly, we’re going to have an issue. Max loves her. I love her. And that’s all you need to concern yourself with.”

  Afraid I’d say something more I’d later regret, I forced myself to kiss her cheek, then calmly walk away. “Thanks for bringing him home. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how he’s doing.”

  Without waiting for her to respond, I headed upstairs, still seething from what she’d said. God knew if she weren’t my mother, my words wouldn’t have been quite so careful or controlled. Needing to see the two people who meant the most to me in the world, I headed straight to Max’s room. I stood in the doorway, looking in at him and Bailey snuggled in his bed, him tucked into her side as she read from his favorite book.

  My chest actually ached at the sight. When my wife had passed away, I’d never thought I’d feel this again—this overwhelming sense of gratefulness and…love. I never thought I’d want this again. I was content going about my life, doing all I could to make up for the fact that Max had only one parent. I never saw myself falling in love again.

  But then, I never saw Bailey coming, either.

  She swept her way into our lives with her humor and her laughter and her light, and she’d made life better for the both of us. She was the bright spot during very dark days, and she only continued to be that brightness. I had no idea why it’d taken me so long to realize it, why it’d taken me so long to act on it. Regardless, I wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about lost time. I also wasn’t going to worry about what anyone else thought—my mother included. If I was okay with our arrangement, and so was Bailey, that was all that mattered.

  “Bee?” Max asked, tilting his head to look up at her.

  Neither of them was aware I’d stepped into the room, a smile on my face as I watched the two of them together.

  “Hmm?” she asked, pressing an absentminded kiss to his forehead.

  “What’s prostitute mean?”

  The smile slipped from my face at the same time Bailey’s entire body froze.

  After a second of silence, she cleared her throat. “That’s not a nice word, so we don’t use it, okay?”

  “If it’s not nice, how come Nana said you were one?”

  The bottom dropped out from under me, the look on Bailey’s face sending a wrecking ball straight through my chest. The color drained from her face, and she worked her mouth to say something, but no words came out. I took a step toward her—to reassure her or take her in my arms or do something—and the floor creaked under my foot, alerting her to my presence.

  She looked up, meeting my eyes. Where I thought I’d see confusion—maybe hurt or anger or sadness—I saw nothing. Her eyes were blank, her face wiped of all expression. And I absolutely hated that something my mother had said had caused her to shut down.

  Knowing I couldn’t exactly discuss it freely with Max in the room, but also not wanting to let it slide, I went over to them and sat on the other side of the bed, reaching out to brush his hair back from his face. “Nana shouldn’t have said that, buddy. I already talked to her about it.” I tried to put as much sincerity in my voice as I could, hoping Bailey would pick up on my unspoken words—that I didn’t give a fuck what my mom said. I’d never once thought of Bailey as that—never would, regardless of what we did in the bedroom.

  Instead of meeting my pleading look, she closed the book and slid out of Max’s bed. Bending down, she pressed a kiss to his head. “I’ll be right next door if you need me, okay?”

  Then with little more than a gentle hand smoothing out Max’s blankets and one last kiss on his cheek, she left the room, never once looking back at me.

  It wasn’t every day I got called a prostitute. It also wasn’t every day that being called a prostitute wasn’t the worst thing that happened. I could still hear Max’s tired little voice asking me what prostitute meant and dropping the bomb that his grandmother had called me one. And Josh—Mr. Appropriate, Mr. Hundred-Thousand-Dollar Education—comes up with a big old nothing to say back to his son about it.

  That hurt far worse than the word and insinuation itself.

  Why had his mother called me a prostitute? Well, probably because she’d seen me half naked wearing only Josh’s shirt while coming out of his room. I could rationalize her jumping to conclusions seeing as how Josh paid me to live in his house. She wasn’t the one who’d sliced my heart right out of my chest. That honor sat with the good doctor.

  Josh could have come up with something to say, some way to defend me to his son, who had no idea what was going on. But no, all I got was a bland “Nana shouldn’t have said that.” Probably the most accurate thing he’d ever said, and not nearly enough.

  I curled around my pillow, fighting to keep the tears from falling. I knew I needed to confront Josh on all the things he didn’t say, but I couldn’t. Not yet. My heart hurt too much, and my temper was too triggered. If I tried to have an adult conversation right then, I’d end up saying something I regretted. Like I hate you. Or you’re an asshole. Or I quit.

  God, not that last one.

  I couldn’t leave my Max. He was the best sort of joy, the pure kind. A little piece of my heart living outside my body even though he wasn’t mine. I’d do anything to stay in his life, whether as his nanny or as…more. But if he was going to grow up thinking I was some sort of paid sex partner for his dad? No. That was too heartbreaking even to consider. Which left me in the swirling depths of doubt over what to do.

  One comment, and the happiness of the last couple of days was gone.

  The clock was glowing bright in my darkened room when a knock sounded on my door. One too loud and forceful to be Max.

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I curled into a tigh
ter ball, wishing he’d go away. Wishing he’d apologize and come in and hold me. Wishing he knew how to make things right, even though I still didn’t have a clue what could.

  “Bailey, please open the door and talk to me.”

  I clenched my eyes closed against the pain his voice caused. “I can’t tonight. I just…can’t.”

  “Don’t shut me out, baby. Please, we need to talk.”

  We did, but I wasn’t ready to. And I was tired of his pushing.

  I jumped up, storming to the door, still refusing to open it. “Your mother called me a prostitute, Josh. Max heard that, and you didn’t defend me. You come out with a, ‘she shouldn’t have called Bailey that word’ reasoning? How about ‘Bailey’s not a prostitute’?” The fire cooled, the anger dropping to a simmer as my voice lowered. “Unless that’s how you see this. You pay me to care for Max and expect something on the side.”

  “I did defend you! I told my mom she had no right to call you that and to mind her own damn business. And Max—” He groaned, and something thumped against the door. Whether that was his head or his fist, I couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry I didn’t say exactly what you wanted me to say with him, but I wanted to end the discussion immediately. I hated that you’d been called it at all. Even the idea you’re one is preposterous, which is why it didn’t occur to me to tell Max you aren’t. Of course you aren’t.”

  And yet, he didn’t deny it when it counted. I sank to the floor, unwilling to open myself up for more disappointment. Unable to be the one to walk away from the door.

  “Words hurt, Josh,” I said, my eyes locked on the carpet beneath my toes. His carpet…in his house. Where I no longer seemed to fit. “Words definitely hurt, but sometimes not speaking, not sticking up for someone, hurts even worse. I’m done with this conversation for the night. I’ll get up with Max if he needs me, but otherwise, I’m off duty. Leave me alone.”

  “Bailey—don’t do this. This isn’t about you being on duty. This is about us. I’m sorry, okay?” Another slump, this one lower. Closer. As if he were kneeling right behind me. “I’m sorry my mother said it, I’m sorry Max overheard it, I’m sorry he asked you about it, and I’m sorry I didn’t know the exact right thing to say to defuse the situation. I fuck up sometimes. But I would never intentionally hurt you. Ever. I never intended for my actions to come across like I wasn’t standing up for you. Like I didn’t care. I do. I care about you so much—”