Babysitter Wanted: A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Mia Madison

  “I'll be okay. No need to keep asking.”

  “Right.” He smiles and goes off into the kitchen. “Any funny dietary requirements?” he shouts through. “I forgot to ask.”

  “Vegan, lactose intolerant and I don't like veggies.”

  He comes back into the living room a look of horror on his face. “I ...er ...”

  “Just kidding. Mom always said I was like a garbage disposal because I would eat anything. I draw the line at mushrooms, though. Slimy things.”

  “I won't give you snails either, then.”

  “Nope. I won't eat them.”

  “Right, anything but snail and mushroom stew then. Let's see. What do I have?” He goes back to the kitchen and I think for a moment we are going to be okay. It's only six weeks, after all, then I am out of here.

  Baby Lucy gurgles up at me and splashes me again and I already have a pang of regret that this is a temporary arrangement. I have to keep my cool, but how can I with Lucy so adorable and Andrew turning my insides to mush in a way that spells trouble?

  CHAPTER 6

  Andrew

  I might not be great at baby care, but I can cook. And I can make bottles, endless bottles. I'm used to that routine now. I heat one up for Melissa to feed Lucy after her bath and I take it out to the living room where Melissa is walking around with Lucy over her shoulder, singing gently in her ear.

  Back in the kitchen, making dinner, I find myself smiling. It's the most relaxed I've been for weeks. I'm making a risotto. It feels good to have time to chop and stir ingredients, rather than shoving something in the microwave and calling it good.

  Twenty minutes later, Melissa comes into the kitchen. “Smells good.”

  “Where's Lucy?”

  “She's fast asleep in her crib.”

  “There's not much room in there, is there? Sorry, you must be used to much more space. I guess my sister thought it was big enough for now. I'll probably have to sell this place and mine and buy something bigger.”

  “It's a pity, because it's a lovely cottage.”

  “You'd call it quaint, though, wouldn't you?”

  “Yes.” She grins at me. “I feel like posting everything on Instagram. This is really England.”

  “It is, but there are plenty of decaying tower blocks and much less picturesque places than here.”

  “I'm not thinking of them at all. This has to be England right here. It's this or Buckingham Palace.”

  “I can't offer you a palace, but you can go and see one on your days off.”

  She laughs at that. So young, so carefree. It's refreshing after all the shit that has happened lately.

  “I called home after I put Lucy to bed. Dad says hello. He'll catch you next time he's over. He's got a trip planned for April.”

  “I should have reminded you to call earlier. Your dad worries about you. And your mum.”

  “I already texted, so they know I arrived.”

  “We go back a long way, me and your dad.”

  “I know.”

  The lights in the kitchen cast a glow on her hair. Usually, I'm just shoveling food into me here so I can get finished fast before Lucy wakes up, but I take the time to set the table tonight.

  “Would you like wine? You're old enough, right, even with your odd American drinking laws?”

  “I am. Just. Twenty-one.”

  “How do people do crazy things over there if you don't drink? Is that not what college is all about?”

  “We find ways.”

  “Of having fun or drinking?”

  “Both, usually.” She laughs. I love the sound of that in this kitchen. It's been a rare occurrence lately.

  I test the rice. “Dinner’s ready. Take a seat.” I'm sure we'll get over all this formality but for now, it's like having a guest here. Even a date. No, not a date. I can't afford to think like that. Not the way she looks, her curves, her sweet smile, the kind of person she seems to be—easy-going, intelligent, without a care in the world.

  The woman at the nanny agency promised she'd find some candidates – a more permanent solution—but so far, she hasn't lined up anyone suitable.

  Let's hope Melissa and I can get through a meal like an employer and employee. That's what we are, really. I'm sure she sees me as no more than her dad's friend and an interim stop before Europe. But I look at her now, and she blushes.

  Shit! Can she tell how fucking sexy I find her? How I want to do totally inappropriate things to her?

  CHAPTER 7

  Melissa

  Once we start eating, the atmosphere changes. It's like I'm on a blind date or something, with a guy who turned out to be way out of my league and who I suspect wants to escape as soon as possible. I'm aware of every sound, the scrape of the silverware on the plates, the clink of the glasses when we put them down. What can I say to him, this imposing man? Then, as soon as I wrack my brains to think of something to say, and start to speak, he says something too.

  “Awkward,” he says and then suddenly because he said that, it's not awkward at all. We both laugh.

  “I thought I'd never hear laughter again in this kitchen,” he says. “Though there was plenty here when I visited Julie and Mike over the past few years.”

  “It must be hard. Everything that's happened. They were so young.”

  “Yes, younger than me. Out having fun, Beatrice babysitting to let them get out for a couple of hours, otherwise Lucy would have been with them and I doubt she'd have survived the truck hitting the car side on.”

  “Did you always know Lucy would come to you?”

  “No, it was a shock. Though I should have known. Mike was an only child and there are no grandparents on either side. I thought one of Julie's friends, someone with children already, might be named as guardian.” He shrugs. I guess he's used to the idea now. “Julie didn't get around to telling me that she'd put me in her will as guardian for any future children. It was dated from when they bought the house, a few years before Lucy came along. No one expects tragedy, but I got an instant family in the worst possible way. It freaked my girlfriend Angela out that I became a parent overnight.”

  “I can see it would be a shock for her too.” I want to give Andrew a hug. He's looking down at his plate, remembering the moment he found out, I imagine.

  He looks up. “It was even more of a shock that she chose that moment to tell me she'd thought we were going nowhere for a while and not to expect her to be around to carry any of the load. That just felt like the universe was putting the final boot in.”

  Jeez! I've been so lucky. Great family. Grandparents. Brother. Mom and Dad. Everyone. The worst that ever happened to me was Paul Kessler two-timing me in my junior year and my pet guinea pig dying.

  “Anyway, do you want to join me in the pity party or should we drink to the future?” he asks, suddenly smiling. It transforms his face again when he does that. Another dose of that broad smile. He should bottle it and sell it for a tonic. I want to see it more often.

  “It has to be the future. I have nothing bad going on in my past that I know of.” I lift up my glass and he touches it with his.

  “Here's to keeping it that way,” he says. Our eyes meet and hold and it feels like a minute until we look away but it can't really be more than a few seconds before we get on with our dinner.

  “So, tell me about the crazy things you did at college,” he says.

  Why is it that everything I did suddenly seems juvenile in the face of this grown up hot Englishman?

  “Oh, you don't want to know. Silly stuff.” College seems a long time ago. And America so far away. I yawn. Suddenly, I can't keep my eyes open.

  “Sorry! I forgot it's been such a long day for you. Jet lag east to west. Your dad is used to it now, but even he feels the effects.”

  I nod. I just want my bed.

  “Listen. Sleep as long as you like tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?” I'm here to care for Lucy and I'm already taking time off.

  “I don't
go to work until Monday, so no problem.” He looks at me. “Seriously, thank you for coming and helping me out. I owe you and your dad for this.” He touches my arm, concern etched on his face, and suddenly, I'm so tired, so overwhelmed with everything, I don't want to go anywhere except lean on him, fall into his arms and find sleep there.

  I get up from the table, dead on my feet. And just when I think I can't possibly be bothered to find my toothbrush or wash my face, Andrew scoops me up and carries me out of the kitchen and I let him without saying a word. It feels good in his strong, capable arms but he just plants me on the bed and says so softly, “There you go. Get some rest, Melissa.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Andrew

  What a pea-brained thing to do! What was I thinking carrying Melissa to bed? I know she was tired, but I should have fucking thought. But I didn't think, did I? The girl could hardly walk. But carry her to bed? I shake my head at myself. Never mind. Back to normal tomorrow.

  Lucy is still fast asleep in my room, giving little baby snuffles, when I look in on her. It's time for me to get some rest myself before she wakes in the night. I check the bottle situation. I have one in the fridge ready to be heated. That should be okay, but I needed two a couple of nights ago. Who knew kids were so exhausting? I guess I wasn't completely ignorant of what was involved, given the way my sister and everyone and his dog complains about their life changing when they get kids, but experiencing it first hand is something else. No one can prepare you for that.

  I clear the kitchen and empty out the baby bath before dropping into bed, shattered.

  The last thing I see in my mind as I fall asleep is Melissa, her arrival at the airport, her face when she laughs, her womanly curves. I can't go there. She's off limits. Not that anyone is on limits at the moment with this whole situation. The accident. Lucy. Angela. Is anything else going to come out of the woodwork and knock me sideways? Or is someone going to leap out and yell Candid fucking Camera someday soon?

  Miraculously, Lucy wakes just once in the night. Maybe the bath calmed her. I give her a bottle of formula and she falls asleep again, and so do I. It's the most peaceful night I've had for weeks. I think I have Melissa to thank for that.

  *

  It's light when I wake but when I look over, Lucy is not in her crib. What gives? I go into the kitchen. She's in her high chair and Melissa is feeding her some kind of cereal mush.

  “I was awake when she cried out, so I came and got her and gave her a fresh diaper. I thought you could probably do with the rest.” Melissa wipes around Lucy's face.

  “I could. I haven't slept this well for ages. You're an angel.”

  “I made breakfast,” she says.

  “Double angel.” I'm also hungrier than I've been in a long time. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Like a baby.” And she pulls a face and laughs at the irony of that.

  I sit down. She's perfectly respectable in a pink sweatshirt and white PJ bottoms, covered in pink hearts, her hair tied behind in a ponytail, but somehow it's distracting to see her in my kitchen as she feeds Lucy cereal, pretending the spoon is an airplane and making the baby laugh. My new babysitter seems to be a natural with Lucy. But it's more than that, she's a breath of fresh air with all that has gone on here lately. I just hope she doesn't turn into a tornado destroying everything in her wake.

  CHAPTER 9

  Melissa

  I shouldn't have looked! I know I shouldn't. But too late now. When I knocked quietly on Andrew's bedroom door this morning and went in to get the baby to let him stay in bed, he was in a deep sleep. I couldn't help looking his way and then I couldn't take my eyes off him. He'd thrown the covers off, his T-shirt riding up showing perfect abs, a happy trail leading down into low-slung sweatpants, his arm—his well-built muscular arm—over his eyes.

  If women had the vapors these days, I'd have swooned and hit the ground. On the spot. Instead, I gathered up baby Lucy and high-tailed it out of there before I gave myself away. Then I got busy in the kitchen. But damn, they don't make many like him. Not in my experience, anyway.

  And now he's here in the kitchen, distracting me as I put bacon and eggs in front of him. He's still wearing the same clothes he had on in bed, and I'm wondering how I'll manage for six weeks without wanting to see what's beneath that T-shirt and sweatpants ensemble.

  If I keep seeing him like I did this morning, I'm going to combust and it will be torture keeping my mind on what I'm supposed to be doing.

  Maybe I'll get immune after a while living with him. But I doubt it. I've just got to get through this.

  “Is it okay if I take Lucy out today?” A bit of distance might do me some good and give him a break.

  “I'd better show you around the area. There's not much in the village so I'll take you to a couple of the surrounding towns. You've got your license, right? You Californians get to drive when you're thirteen or something, don't you?”

  “Sixteen, but I wasn't sure if I'd be allowed to drive here.”

  “Yeah. You can use your license for a year. Julie's car is still sitting out on the street.”

  I must look puzzled because he says, “They were in Mike's.” I realize the significance of that. Julie left behind her baby, her house, even her car. Everything but herself.

  “I'll go out with you in the car a couple of times, to make sure you're okay,” he says.

  He looks serious and I know he wants to check out if I'm a safe driver. Another car accident, this time with Lucy, is the last thing he needs.

  “If you like you can show me around, though I've driven a lot so I should be fine. Stick shift?”

  “Eh?”

  I make a universal gear change gesture.

  “Oh, you mean manual gears as opposed to automatic. It's automatic, I think. But opposite side of the car and the road and all that. You'll soon get used to it.”

  Lucy tips over her cereal bowl. The mess! But as I get busy cleaning up the baby and mopping the floor, Andrew says. “It's going to be good having you around, Melissa.”

  Does he mean because I'm here to clean up and share the burden or something else? For a brief moment, I allow myself the fantasy that he means something other than my floor cleaning and babysitting skills. But I make myself stop that pronto. I know I'm just the temporary help. There's no way he means anything other than that.

  CHAPTER 10

  Andrew

  It takes forever before we can leave the house, even after we are all washed and dressed. Apparently, we need a whole raft of things—spare outfits, nappies, formula, snacks, baby wipes, Kleenex, toys. I realize I've only ever been out when I've left Lucy with Beatrice and she has a key in case she needs anything from the house. This stuff is complicated.

  After a few nervous moves, Melissa takes to driving on the left no trouble at all. It's a relief that I don't have to worry about her being in control of the car. We drive through Brampton Head and Greendale where I point out the local landmarks and the bakery and supermarket and then we take the turn down to the beach. Melissa doesn't chat much when she drives. I look over at her a couple of times to see her frowning in concentration. But I think she'll be fine.

  It's cold down here at the coast. The wind is bracing and coming off the sea onto the shore, the waves throwing up white foam. The sea reflects the gray of the sky. “It's not quite LA,” I offer. “Welcome to the British beach in winter.”

  “I like it,” she says. “It's refreshing.”

  We get Lucy bundled up and into her buggy and walk along the promenade between the dunes and the beach, gulls hovering overhead, calling out. Melissa looks beautiful in her pale blue coat and the gray scarf I lent her.

  “Somewhere like this would be mobbed in LA,” Melissa says.

  “But probably not in weather like this.”

  “No, they banned weather like this back in 1957.” She laughs. “It's not all sun. It rains sometimes. We have smog.”

  “Sometimes we have sunshine here too. You might even spot
some in the next six weeks.” I point at a cafe in the distance on the other side of the wide bay. “See that place there? Ice cream awaits you if we make it that far.”

  “You're on.”

  She starts up at a brisk pace.

  “Are you planning on entering a marathon?”

  “No, but someone offered me ice cream.”

  “It will still be there in an hour. We don't have to get there in the next ten minutes. There's not much demand for ice cream in this weather. I doubt there'll be a run on it.”

  She laughs. “You can push the buggy for a bit. I'm taking it easy and enjoying the view.”

  A woman with a corgi approaches from the other direction.

  “Aren't you just the cutest family?” the woman says. Melissa starts to correct her as the woman bends over and takes a look at Lucy, babbling in her buggy. But I catch hold of Melissa's arm and put a finger to my lips. It doesn't matter what the truth is. We'll never see the woman again. Instead of looking like an uncle who has been landed with sudden parenthood, an orphaned child, and a temporary babysitter, we can be a normal family for five minutes.

  The woman smiles and goes on her way and I'm left wondering how it would be if we were a family for real, Melissa by my side and in my bed. I'd really like to find out how that feels. It's a pity she's not mine and I'll never know.

  CHAPTER 11

  Melissa

  “Sorry,” Andrew says, once the woman is out of earshot. “Everyone wants the details if you start telling them the story, and there's ice cream to be had.”

  Lucy has fallen asleep. “Wide awake to nodding off in ten seconds,” I say. “Amazing.”

  “And she doesn't even have jet lag.”

  “She's a lot lighter to carry to bed, though.” Eek! Why did I say that? I bend over to rearrange Lucy's covers again to spare my blushes and save myself having to check out Andrew's expression.