by Misti Murphy
The door to the spare bedroom opens as I pass, light spilling into the hall as Erin steps out in front of me. It’s all I can do not to collide with her. And not to notice—uh, stare at—the white cami and short shorts that make her legs look like they go on forever. As if that dress she wore today weren’t short enough. I’d had to give her that golf lesson from as far away as I could manage so she didn’t cop a feel of my own iron pressed up against her ass. Considering the whole point of our meeting was to trial her as my nanny, Abby’s nanny, making an effort not to hit on her seemed prudent. But hell, I’m only human.
“Jesus. Give a guy a warning. Yell fore or something.”
“Oh crap.” She almost puts her hands on my chest, like she’s expecting me to still smack into her. “I didn’t realize you were home.”
“Well, I am. Got in a few minutes ago.”
Ducking her head, she glances at the partially open door to the spare room, her room, and the delicate muscles at her throat cord. “I was going to get something to drink, but now that you’re home, perhaps you might want to chat a bit more about your expectations. I’ll just chuck on some sweats.”
We probably should. I didn’t really give her a rundown of how our days go. Likely because I’ve been doing it all for the past couple of months and I’m kind of used to it now. Before that we had Mrs. Peters, and I let her run the show while I tried to wrap my head around the fact I have a daughter, let alone learn how to take care of her.
“Sure.” I almost grasp Erin’s elbow to usher her down the hallway, but at the last minute I redirect my hand to rub the knots in my shoulder instead. “How about we talk over sandwiches? I’m famished.”
“There’s leftover mac and cheese if you want,” she says when she rejoins me in the hallway a quick minute later, zipping up the front of her hooded sweatshirt. She pushes a tendril of hair out of her face, and a smattering of freckles along her neck distract me. “I hope that was okay. I saw the ingredients in the cupboard, and Abby said she loved it, so—”
“That’s fine.” I follow her to the kitchen, trying to stare at the back of her head and not let my gaze drop to the curve of her ass in those sweatpants. She’s probably trying to be modest—or keeping me from thinking about her naked. They’re not even the ridiculous sweats with words like juicy, score, or pink, but they may as well be. Damn velvety, hip-hugging pants that make me think about sex. And here I thought her having a boyfriend and a knack for shutting me down would help me deal with being attracted to her. A shame my body didn’t get the memo that the nanny is off limits. “I’d prefer she eat some vegetables, but it’s your first day together.”
“Oh, I mixed bacon and zucchini through it. Topped it with breadcrumbs.” She smiles at me over her shoulder.
“She ate that?” Hell, I want to eat that, but Abby’s fussy. Getting her to eat zucchini seems like mission impossible.
“Uh-huh. Then she played in the tub for a while before bed and a book.” Erin flips on the overhead lights in the kitchen and goes to the fridge to drag out a Tupperware container. “I could make you a sandwich instead if you want.”
“It’s not your job to look after me.” I collect a plate from an overhead cupboard. “Only Abby.”
She’s already removed the lid and put it in the microwave to reheat; she pours a glass of milk while we wait. “You want one?”
“Think I’ll have a beer.” I retrieve a Goose Island IPA before she can beat me to it. I take a long pull as I settle on a barstool. “So you bribed my kid?”
“No. Why do you say that?” She slides the milk carton back in the door and uses her hip to shut it.
“She ate vegetables and bathed. Possibly without screaming the house down.”
“I was going to ask you about that.” The microwave beeps, and she grabs the container and scoops the contents onto the plate before snatching a fork from the cutlery drawer and placing the whole thing in front of me. “She seemed very upset at the idea when I first mentioned it. Is there a reason she doesn’t normally enjoy bath time?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. Her mom wasn’t particularly great at being a mother. She had some issues that might have been traumatic for Abby.” I concentrate on forking macaroni into my mouth. Erin’s only here on a trial basis and already she’s been inducted into the group of people Abby loves. That’s pretty clear, so how much am I supposed to tell her? And how do I explain that this nannying gig is no short-term contract?
“I didn’t know I had a daughter for the first two years of Abby’s life.” I set the fork down and push the plate away. “Not until a lawyer from Dallas showed up at my door to tell me that her mother wasn’t able to take care of her. She wanted to hand over full custody just like that.” I click my fingers. “So I flew down to Dallas and met Abby’s mother at the courthouse. And here we are. I don’t really know why she hates water, or if it’s a normal kid phase. I’m still flailing around with the parenting thing, which is why I need a nanny long term.”
“Does that mean you want me to stick around longer than the trial period? Can I unpack my suitcases?” She takes the plate and scrapes it off in the sink. “Because I’d really like to be your daughter’s nanny. Abby’s a great kid.”
“I guess, yeah, you’ve got the job.” Getting up, I set the stool under the edge of the island. “As long as you’re planning on sticking around. If this is some interim job for you, now’s the time to say so. I don’t want to have to go through this rigmarole again.”
“No. Absolutely not. I want to be here as long as Abby needs me as her nanny.” She follows me as I trudge into the living room.
“Well then.” I thrust out my hand in front of her. “We have a deal.”
She doesn’t hesitate to squeeze my hand. “I promise you won’t regret this.”
“Better hope so.” I stare down at her, trying to ignore the warmth of her hand in my own and how easy it would be to pull her into a full body hug, and we’ve done that before. Her entire body pressed to mine for mere seconds that felt a little too good. This time it’s not so easy to brush off the sensation or to keep my dick from rising to attention. Doesn’t matter though. Red might have my attention right now, but it’s not going to last, and her ability to look after Abby will. I drop her hand. “I’m exhausted. We’ll go over the schedule first thing in the morning. Abby wakes at six.”
“Okay,” she says as I walk away. “Good night.”
***
I finish reading Frozen to Abby for the fifty-billionth time and set the book back on her bookshelf. “That’s it for tonight, sweet pea.”
“Again.” She sits cross-legged in pajamas decorated with Elsa and Anna that Erin picked up for her yesterday while they were out doing who knows what. From the state of Abby’s cotton candy-pink nails, I’m assuming manicures were involved. She buries her chin in the top of her teddy bear and gazes up at me with big, blue eyes that make me forget how to say no more often than not.
“Can’t tonight. Daddy’s got to go out for a little while. He has to have dinner with a friend.” Getting off the bed, I tuck the covers up around her chin. “But Erin will be here with you, and I’ll check in as soon as I get home.”
“Is Erin going to come tuck me in too?”
“Sure.” It’s amazing how quickly Abby got used to having the woman around. The two of them are as thick as thieves. I bite the inside of my cheek. Does that trouble me, or am I bothered about the nanny’s constant presence in a whole other way? “Do you want me to get her?”
“Can I have a goat instead?”
“Absolutely not.” I ruffle her hair and kiss her cheek.
“What about my toy goat?”
“Where’d you leave it?”
“In the bathroom, Daddy. And I want Erin too.”
“You’ve got your daddy wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” Shaking my head, I stride out of her room to collect the plastic farm animal and tell Erin that Abby wants her. Which is fantastic, really. The trouble is,
I want the nanny too. A week of her parading around in skinny jeans and oversized tops and I can barely concentrate when she’s in the room.
The goat’s probably in the bag of toys attached to the side of the tub in the master bath. I push open the bathroom door.
Erin jumps and screams, gripping the towel wrapped around her midsection.
“Sorry.” I stop in my tracks, What am I supposed to be doing? Other than staring at that white towel and how it barely covers her tits and only just skims her thighs, that is. Droplets stream down her shoulders from loose, wet ringlets that I want to tug.
“Everything okay with Abby?” She tucks the towel in.
It would be so easy to pull on the terry towelling and watch it flutter to the floor, to cup her clean, warm skin with my hands while I kiss her.
“She’s fine.”
“Okay.” She stares up at me and darts the tip of her tongue between her lips.
I want to chase it with my mouth. Her breasts rise and fall in a shallow rapid pattern, like she’s avoiding inhaling. Maybe I should, because her scent catches in my nostrils and punches me in the gut, making me hard. And I shouldn’t be hard for the nanny, shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, or standing here staring at her the way I am, because she’s my child’s nanny, and she has a boyfriend.
“Tell me about your boyfriend.”
“Excuse me?” She frowns.
“Your boyfriend. Where’d you meet? Where did he take you for your first date?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I want to meet him,” I blurt.
I can’t believe I said that. The last thing I want to do is meet the guy who’s stolen this girl’s heart. Especially if he’s worthy of her love. It might screw with the fantasies that keep me up at night in more ways than one.
“Daddy,” a small voice calls out.
“Would you mind? Can I get dressed?” Erin asks.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” I spin and smack into the wall. “Ouch. Fuck. So sorry.”
“Daddy, where’s my goat?”
“Right?” I put every ounce of willpower into not looking at Erin again as I sidle past her, eyes watering while I clutch my nose. “Sorry, just need to get the toy goat. Not trying to be a sleaze.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Won’t happen again.”
“Garrett.”
“What?” I turn my attention to her. “Shit. Fuck.” I’m staring at her again. Anyone would think I have no game given how well I’m doing tonight. Which is why I’m going on a date with a cute redhead I met on the driving range this morning. One that isn’t my damn nanny. Because I can’t keep letting her get to me like this.
“Seriously. It’s okay. You didn’t expect me to be in here.”
“Why are you?” I drop my gaze to the toy in my hands, concentrate on turning the brown and white goat over and over.
“There was a spider in mine.”
“Oh, do you want me to get rid of it for you?”
“Please.” She gives me one of her winning smiles.
“I’ll just give Abby her goat first and then I’ll take care of it.” I make it to the door, grip the handle as I walk out. “She wants you once you’re done in here.”
Then I shut the door and inhale before marching back to tuck Abby in again, farm animal in hand.
***
A few hours later, I slip into the apartment and shut the door quietly behind me. Low levels of light from other rooms give off enough illumination for me to make my way in the dark. Tonight didn’t go as I’d expected. Dinner, a few drinks, an offer to go back to her place—never mine—is all par for the course. It’s a no-brainer. But this evening, it was very much a brainer, since I haven’t been able to block out what happened in the bathroom with the nanny. Only because it was such a jerk move on my part and I don’t want Erin to feel uncomfortable, of course.
I hesitate in front of Erin’s bedroom. I should apologize again. Profusely. But it’s late, and she probably doesn’t want to deal with me acting like a creep. Again. So I skirt past her door and stick my head into Abby’s room.
If someone had told me a year ago I’d be raising a daughter right now, I would have shown them my condom collection. I’m not the type of guy to take risks like that. Except I did at least once. I didn’t have any plans to be a parent. I could see my brother Paynt having a kid. Hell, he’s got the damn goat, and I bet it won’t take a year and he’ll have a two-legged one, too. But not me. Abby wasn’t part of the plan, but damn, she’s the only part that’s important.
“She fell asleep about five minutes after you left. She’s been down ever since,” Erin says, standing just outside her door.
“No problems?”
“None.” She rubs at the goose bumps on her arms and then crosses them under her boobs. “How was your evening?”
“Date,” I correct her, paying no attention the fact she isn’t wearing a bra and her puckered nipples show through the cotton T-shirt she’s wearing. See, there’s proof I’m not attracted to her. “So I killed that spider before I left.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m really sorry about storming in on you.” Those things are really stabbing the material, like they’re begging for my mouth.
“It was an accident, right? It wasn’t some not-so-slick move on your part to try to get me naked?”
“You didn’t need my help to get naked.” Would it be an accident if I run a knuckle over one of those sharp points?
She pulls in a sharp breath. “So it was on purpose? You had some thought that I’d throw myself at you if I was already naked?”
Well, that would be nice.
“I know that probably happens a lot. I’m sure there would even be some nannies who would throw themselves at you, but I’m not going to.”
Fucking hell. She’s untouchable. That’s probably what’s making this harder that it should be, me harder than I should be. “I mean, there was no plan. I didn’t expect you to be in there. It was absolutely an accident.”
“Then don’t worry about it.” She shrugs and her tits rise.
Yeah, that fucking helps. “As long as you’re sure.”
“So what is it about the goat?” she asks, flicking a glance past me at the sleeping child. “She really wants one.”
“My brother, Paynter. You met him.”
“Uh-huh.” She nods.
“He and his girlfriend own a goat, and Abby is obsessed with the thing. She keeps asking for her own.”
“But you live in an apartment, so I’m guessing that isn’t going to happen.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“What about a pig?” she asks.
“Not unless it’s called Bacon and lives on the top shelf of the fridge.” I chuckle.
“A duck?”
“Only if it’s first name’s Peking, and you serve it with rice.”
“A kitten?”
“Giving me the hard sell, huh?”
“Abby wants a pet. I think it would be a good thing for her, and you wouldn’t have to deal with it. I would.”
“Let me think about it.”
She nods.
“Okay, good night then.”
“Good night.”
I skirt around her, heading to my own room. Finally, her tits aren’t staring me down. Totally nailed not being attracted to her.
“Hey,” she says, and I turn. “About what you said about my boyfriend.”
“Sorry again.” Although can’t say I’m not still curious about the answers to those questions.
“I told Danny you wanted to meet him. He wants to meet you too.”
Well, shit!
Chapter Five
ERIN
The meeting didn’t go well. Danny drooled over him like an overzealous fangirl, Garrett made snarky comments about Danny and I hitting the sheets together, and then Danny asked him to sign his balls. I shooed him out the door at that point and vowed to avoid any future si
tuations where the two of them might be in the same vicinity.
Over the next couple of weeks, Garrett made it increasingly clear he isn’t a fan of Danny. “You could do way better than him,” has practically become his catchphrase. I’ve almost blurted, “I know” a dozen times, but I don’t want him to know I’m single, because I don’t want to be tempted by what he’d probably offer.
Now Garrett’s off to some golf tournament on the other side of the country. He’d warned me that he’d often be gone for a week at a time, because tournaments are a professional golfer’s life. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this arrangement makes me the person who ensures he maintains a relationship with his daughter, even when he’s on the road.
Each evening at bedtime, he calls my cell to check in on Abby. “We went to the zoo,” I’ll say. Or, “She wanted to practice hitting balls, so I took her to the club.” I can hear the pride in his voice as he asks if her swing is improving or if she beat her last distance. I’m learning about golf and I don’t even mind, because it makes him so happy that I can have an intelligent conversation about both of his greatest loves.
And then I hand the phone over to her, and I have no idea what he says, but she always dissolves into giggles. On the second evening, she asked me to read her a bedtime story while he was on the line. So I put him on speaker and read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? After kissing her good night, I slipped out of the room and headed to the kitchen, where I grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued chatting with Garrett, who hadn’t been in any hurry to disconnect the call.
And we’ve been doing the same thing every night since.
It’s like we’re friends, but damn it, we’re supposed to be employee and employer. I’m here for his daughter, not him. Despite this, tonight, after Abby’s in bed and we’re still on the phone, I ask, “Why do you wear those crazy outfits when you play?”
