“It's a … type of endangered sea crustacean.” I drop down to one knee in the grass and take her shoulders in my hands. “Look, let's … people don't like to talk about them because they're almost extinct, okay? Let's never repeat those words again.” Bella nods, but she doesn't entirely look like she believes me. Instead of commenting on it though, she drops a daisy chain into my hair and then skips away to rejoin her sister.
“Nice save,” Zayden says as I rise to my feet, glancing over my shoulder to watch him slow clapping at me with his gorgeous hands. I want to suck his fingers into my mouth and see what they taste like.
Uh.
Forget I just said that.
“Your babysitter quit on you?” he asks as I move back over to the bench and plop down on it, curling my fingers around the splintered wood.
“Actually, yeah.” I look over at him, lounging on the picnic table like it's a recliner or something, like the man doesn't have a care in the world. It makes me want to know him, to hoist all of my cares onto somebody else's shoulders. But no. I'm stronger than that. I can do this. “Who do you use for your kids? Maybe I could borrow them for a night?”
Zayden laughs, this easy, open sound that makes my skin tingle.
“Oh, these aren't my kids,” he says, finally admitting it and gesturing at the baby with his thumb. “I'm just the nanny. I might not look the part, but I come dirt cheap.”
My heart flutters—but not from his shockingly good looks this time. I spin in my seat and lean forward, reaching up to take Tattoo God by his strong, sexy shoulders.
Oh, that feels nice.
“Oh my God. I … listen. I gave my last fifty in cash to that bitch, and I don't exactly have the time or money to scour around for a babysitter.” I glance over at the happily sleeping baby. Leaving the girls with a stranger is … but if this guy's a nanny, then somebody must trust him, right? Besides, if I've learned anything over the years, it's that the people who aren't trustworthy often try to look it. If this guy was up to something, why would he advertise himself with all these tats and piercings? I mean, he's been nothing but normal and cool thus far. “Do you have references? I mean, I could check those real quick and we could work out a payment plan.”
“Um, Brooke,” Zayden starts, but I'm desperate here. If I don't go to work tonight, then I have no job. No money. No rent. No food.
“I'll get paid in two weeks—decent money, too. Oh, and tips. What's your going rate?”
“I, uh,” he starts as two twin boys appear and launch themselves into his lap. He wrangles them under the bugling biceps in his arms and holds one on either side while they scream and giggle. I follow him up, rising to my feet and clasping my hands together in front of me.
“Please, Zayden. Please, please, please. I need help. I …” Tears sting my eyes without my meaning them, too. I just feel so overwhelmed right now, like I can't breathe, like I'm suffocating beneath the weight of my new responsibilities. A twenty-two year old virgin stripper with two kids and an ugly hairless dog. What the hell happened to my life? “My sister got on a plane and left the country to live with her boyfriend. She left her kids behind and I'm all they've got and my parents are out of town and tonight I have to start a horrible new job …” I'm babbling and crying at the same time right now, but I can't help it. It all just comes tumbling out.
Zayden bites his lower lip and deposits the twins on the grass in a giggling heap as he looks me over.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice breathy, hair sticking to my wet cheeks as I sniffle and look up at him. “I don't have anybody else to ask.” I pause and take a deep breath. “Unless you think I should try Craigslist?”
Zayden arches a pierced brow and puts his hands on his hips, cursing under his breath.
“Fuck,” he says and that's it. “Just fuck.”
I smile and then throw my arms around the neck of a perfect stranger.
I have no idea why I do that; fuck doesn't exactly mean yes.
I am such a huge fucking sucker for pretty girls in distress.
That shit is gonna kill me one day. I can barely handle the four brats that I have now. Take on two more? I must be going insane. Like, literally insane. Hello straitjacket, sign my bitch ass up, so I can start my journey on the crazy train.
My fingers rake through my hair as I pace back and forth and check the time on my phone.
Seven fifty six.
It's just about time to head over to that chick's house. Like, I wouldn't even go, but if she's na?ve enough to just give me her address and invite me over to watch her kids, then I'm worried about her. What if she really does get on Craigslist and call up some weirdo? I … fuck. I couldn't live with myself.
Why the fuck did I make that nanny joke? And why didn't I correct her? References? I don't have any references. My brother's exact words were: Do you think I'd have called if I had anyone else? That does not inspire much confidence in anyone.
A text comes in as I'm pacing. It's from Kitty again—and it's a picture of her pierced tits.
Looking forward to tonight, it says and I swear, I can feel my cock crying tears of frustration.