Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)

“We can study in here,” Brooke says as Tinley curls her fingers around the edge of Sadie's crib and leans in to study her sleeping face.

“Awesome. I'll be right there,” she says as she grins at the sleeping baby, and Brooke moves in a swirl of camel coat into the kitchen.

It's like so fucking awkward in here right now. Total bummer, too, since I was hoping Brooke and I would get a moment alone before the kids got out of school. Ugh.

“This is Rob's baby?” Tinley asks as I hand her phone back and tuck my fingers into the front pockets of my dark green skinny jeans. I nod my head as Tinley bites her lower lip and leans in again to run her fingers down one of the baby's chubby arms. “She is so goddamn cute.” A quick, coy glance up from beneath long dark lashes. “Have any of your own yet?”

“Me? Oh, hell no. Not ready for kids yet.”

Tinley nods slowly as she stands up straight, reaching up to adjust the dark sunglasses nestled in her electric blue hair.

“Me neither,” she says as she smiles at me and I try to figure out what it is that I'm feeling right now. Off my game, that's for sure. No doubt about that. But … I've got this hot as fuck chick staring at me like I'm tomorrow's breakfast sausage, and all I can do is stand here and stare. All I can do is stand here and feel guilty. Like, what the hell is that about?

Maybe it's because Brooke and I have an arrangement. I mean, we do, don't we? She was supposed to be mine while I was in town, so I guess that makes me hers, too, right? If anything's going to happen between Tinley and me, it'll have to be in Las Vegas after all this is over. Yep. That's the source of my guilt right there.

“Just trying to have a little fun in life, am I right?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I say as Tinley passes by and tickles her nails down my arm, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

“If I call you when I'm in Nevada, you'll answer, right? Because I'd love to see if you're as wild and crazy as you were in high school.” She lets go of my arm and disappears into the kitchen as I cross my arms over my chest and lean my back against the wall, listening to the slight murmur of voices in the kitchen. Hard to hear 'em over the Bebe Rexha song that's playing.

I smile as it stops a moment later, and some raging metal trickles quietly out of the speakers.

When I swing around the corner, I find Brooke shrugging out of her coat, her shoulders smooth and pale and sexy, a stark contrast to the bright red of her silly little cocktail dress. She looks so goddamn young and innocent next to Tinley's tall, tatted form and confident swagger.

“You want me to make sandwiches or something?” I ask as I lean up against the counter and try to get a read on the situation. This is so not my scene, dealing with this kind of stuff. When your dating life consists of tourist chicks, it's easy to make sure they never run into each other. This is just … a really weird coincidence.

“No thanks,” Brooke says, giving me a tight-lipped smile that I can't even begin to interpret. “We're good here.” She gestures between her and Tinley and then sits down, focusing on the open screen of her laptop like I'm not even there anymore.

I cross my arms over my chest as Tinley gives me one last, lingering look before she focuses on whatever advanced shit it is that they're studying. There's no way in hell I'll understand any of it, so I bail, heading out the back door and over to the tire swing to chill with my phone.

Jude won't stop sending me texts of all the vaginal piercings he's done in the last week. A set of inner labia piercings, an outer, another of those VCH piercings I was telling Brooke about. I wonder why the hell any of these girls would let him take a photo of their genitals, but hey, the man can be persuasive as fuck.

There's a group text about all the partying we're gonna do when I get back.

Strippers will rain from the sky, one of my friends texts and I smile before I frown.

Hmm.

Damn. After seeing Brooke cry, after seeing the desperation in her eyes, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to enjoy a strip club again. I mean, I get that not all girls feel the way she does about the job, but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to set foot in one of those places without wondering which ones are the Brookes, the sad virgin girls with no other choice.

I sigh and smack the cracked screen of the phone against my forehead.

There's another text from that girl, Kitty, on there, too, but I ignore that one. The little she and I had has run its course for sure.

I check my bank balance next and frown. Two weeks without working is really setting me back. I barely have enough for my next mortgage payment in there. Time to start using the credit card for a while I guess.

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