“Whatever you say. You’re the nanny.” She held up her hands in surrender and then retrieved her fork.
“Yeah, I think this could really work out, you know? It could be really, really great,” I repeated, then took another bite of my food, although I barely tasted it.
Instead, I was thinking about the house. And Dylan.
And what it was going to be like when tomorrow came and I was all alone there.
With Max.
If he noticed the way I’d looked at him, he definitely wouldn’t have given me the job. I had to hope that the charisma pouring off him and the effect of that smoking-hot bod wore off once we spent a few days around each other. Otherwise? I was in big trouble. And I wasn’t about to ruin this dream opportunity.
“Are you nervous about living with a strange man?” Lara asked, and I blinked for a minute, certain she could read my mind.
“No, no, of course not. It’s professional. Totally professional.” I stumbled over the words and Lara smirked.
“I never said it wasn’t. Unless you think—”
“No, I don’t. I said yesterday, remember? I’ve sworn off men. I clearly can’t be trusted to make the right choices. I was with Greg and then, bam. All my dreams were gone. Two years of my life wasted.”
“But we weren’t talking about romance, I thought?” Lara asked lightly.
“We’re not. I’m just saying—” I shook my head. “Ugh, it came out all wrong.”
“So he’s hot, huh?” Lara asked, that knowing smirk still mocking me.
I wanted to bang my head against the dining room table. “Yes,” I confessed on an exhale. “He’s gorgeous. He’s tall and tanned and muscular, and he’s got that jaw—you know how some guys have that defined jaw?”
“I do.” Lara nodded.
“But anyway, I’m not going to get involved with him,” I pronounced.
“Because you’ve sworn off men?”
“And because he’s my boss,” I sputtered. “Can you imagine the disaster? I’m not going to be homeless and jobless again. Not ever.”
Lara shrugged. “Probably a smart move. But are you sure you can resist him?”
I snorted. “Positive,” I said with a nod.
Then I thought back to the way he’d looked when he opened the door, his hair all messy, his face in need of a shave, that scowl painted across his full lips, and the bad-boy ink on both forearms. He wasn’t like any other man I’d ever seen in real life, and certainly none that I’d dated.
In truth? That was no small part of the appeal. But self-destructive, bad-decision-making Addison was dead and gone.
And she was going to stay that way.
Chapter Five
Max
Ding-dong.
I whirled around just as the toast popped up from the toaster and Dylan shrieked from her high chair.
“What the . . .” I glanced at the clock. It was seven thirty—a full thirty minutes before the nanny was supposed to be here. I hadn’t even combed my hair or brushed my teeth yet. And as for the kitchen?
I glanced around, looking for any place where the counter was actually visible.
“Damn,” I mumbled, and then plowed my fingers through my hair as I made for the door. When I opened it, I found Addison on the step with a suitcase, her long brown hair swept into a neat ponytail on top of her head.
“Good morning,” she chirped.
I’d bypassed my typical morning wood since I’d been awakened by the sounds of the baby screeching, but now, with Addison at the door like the opening shot to a porno flick titled Naughty Nanny’s First Day, my cock swelled.
“Uh, hi. You’re early,” I said, stepping aside so she could walk into the foyer. Catching sight of her bag, I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Shit, you probably have stuff you wanted to bring. Should I have sent some movers or—”
She shook her head and held up a hand. “I’m completely fine. I’ve got everything I need. I’m just going to run my stuff upstairs, and we can get started.”
“Perfect,” I said, my tone slightly annoyed as she headed for the stairwell beside me while I was careful not to reel around and try to catch a glimpse of that round peach of an ass.
God, five minutes in and I was already acting like a fuck-stick. What was wrong with me?
Dylan squealed again and I rushed for the kitchen, pulling the bread from the toaster and slathering a healthy portion of peanut butter over the browned surface.
“There you go, kid.” I set the toast onto the tray of her high chair. “One for you, and one for me.”
She reached for my piece, ignoring her own, but I chomped on it, brushing away some of the crumbs I was dropping all over the floor.
Watching Dylan navigate her piece of toast, I was suddenly hit with a wave of worry. Am I doing the right thing by leaving her here today with a perfect stranger?
The coffeepot dinged and I made my way over, briefly debating whether to pour one mug or two before realizing there was only one clean mug left, anyway.