When he starts singing the words to me, I stand up suddenly and let the chains from the swing jangle behind me.
“You're … in insta-love with me?” I repeat as Zayden pauses and nods, grinning nice and big as Hubert's yowls blend harmoniously into the music.
“Yep.”
“And you're … staying in Eureka … for me?”
“Check and check, baby cakes,” he says as he reaches out to touch me. I reach up to take his wrists, but all he does is twist my arms and grab me anyway, tugging me close. His grin turns a little softer, a little more tender as he rubs a thumb along the line of my jaw, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
It's all so sexy and cute and romantic … until the music changes to “In Da Club” by 50 Cent. Um. Yuck. God, I hate this song.
“Brooke, I'm … sorry for the way I acted yesterday. It's not an excuse or nothin', but …” Zayden pauses and looks into my eyes, his gaze searching deep. “I didn't expect to fall in love with you, and I sure as hell didn't expect it to scare me so much.”
“You were awful yesterday,” I tell him, and I mean that. “A mega dick.”
“Godzilla sized dick,” he agrees as he traces warm circles on my upper arms with his thumbs. He needs to hear how hurtful he was, how stupid he made me feel, what an ass he was. But later. Later because this is my romantic confession … and I refuse to listen to rap or pop while it's happening.
“One second,” I whisper, repeating his own words back at him as I dart to the car and use his iPod to start “The Air That I Breathe” by All That Remains. It's a nice, rough growling metal song that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
I jog back over to Zayden and pause in the wood chips facing him. He crinkles his nose up at my music, but he's still smiling.
“How long is a while?”
“Hmm?”
I put my hands on my hips and breathe deep.
“You said you were staying for a while. How long is that?”
“Well,” he says as he saunters over next to me, hands tucked in his back pockets, and leans down next to my ear. “As long as it takes. Maybe a week. Maybe two. Maybe forever.”
Zayden moves in suddenly and nips at my earlobe, drawing a sharp gasp from my throat.
“Come on, you know I'm not the only one crushing here, right?”
“I'm still mad at you from yesterday,” I tell him, but when he chuckles and pulls me into his arms, I'm putty.
“Did you know it's always been my fantasy to do a chick on a swing?”
“Did you know it's a federal offense to have sex on a playground?” I whisper back, but Zayden just laughs and tucks me against the hard, warm length of his body.
When he drops his mouth down to mine, my eyes slide shut of their own accord and I melt completely. My arms go around Zay's neck as his hands take hold of my hips, hot and hard. I can feel his erection through his tight jeans, so I wiggle closer, pushing myself against him until he moans against my lips.
I pull back and Zayden blinks sexy half-lidded eyes down at me.
“You're really staying?” I ask and he grins, reaching down and scooping me up in his arms.
I let out a small scream as I cling to Zay's neck and his grin gets even bigger.
“If you're still cool with letting a dick like me have a go at this whole love thing.”
“You keep saying love,” I tell him as I feel a slight flush color my cheeks. “Add that to your list of things not to say.”
Zay raises his pierced brow at me.
“You're uncomfortable with the L-word?” I give him a look, but he just smirks at me. “Well how about you try this on for size, Brooke Overland: I'm in love with you.”
“Insta-love,” I whisper and Zay shrugs while still holding me. The fact that he can even hold me up like this is sexy as hell. “That's not the same thing.”
“Sure it is. Whether it happens in an hour, a day, or a year, love is love. A Smarty-Pants like you should know that.”
“I'll pretend that's not the second most romantic thing I've ever heard in my life,” I whisper as my body starts to heat up from Zay's proximity. Oh my God, my hormones are going crazy here.
He crinkles his face up.
“Second most? What's the first?”
I smile at him.
“When you said you wanted to be my nanny. Now, take me somewhere and make love to me, Nanny Roth.”
“Um, backseat of my car?” he asks hopefully, and I laugh.
Because I don't care if we're at the playground or in the car or at my sister's house, if Zayden's there, then that's exactly the place I want to be.
And that's the beginning of my story. His story. Our story.
That's the story of me, a couple of hairless pets, a cluster of kids, and a guy who's a bad boy … and a nanny.
My nanny.