Page 79 of Marrying the Nanny

“This isn’t about trying to take her from you and Trystan. You know that, right? You’ll still be as much a part of her life as you want to be.”

“What do you think?” he asked Storm. “You want to live with the boring one and come visit the cool one in the amusement park capital of the world? Where it’s sunny and warm?”

Storm was batting his rough cheek, leaning in to try to taste his whiskers, making him turn away with a chuckle. “You’re such a weirdo.”

*

“What do you mean you’re not coming? I bought a new carrier.” Trystan looked at Emma as though she’d kicked him in the crotch on purpose for no reason. “It has a patented ultrasoft drool pad and moisture-wicking mesh for better air circulation. It’s the Cadillac of baby backpacks. These chew toys don’t appreciate how cool that is. Only you will.”

“I really won’t, Trys.” Emma couldn’t help chuckling. “I thought Reid was a nerd when he talked about his mechanical pencil, but you.”

“Reid is a nerd,” Logan informed from the dining room where he was feeding Storm. “Trystan’s a geek. Same misguided level of enthusiasm, different disciplines.”

“Pretty sure a vocab enthusiast is called a dork,” Trystan called back. He continued to make two sandwiches, ignoring that Emma had just told him he only needed to make one.

“I’m almost finished with the closet.” Emma set her hand on Trystan’s wrist to pause him. “I was going to call around and figure out how to get everything where it needs to go. You can handle her by yourself. I believe in you.”

“Of course I could.” He snorted with insult. “But safety first. You’re her backup in case something happens to me.”

“You could just not go,” Reid suggested, reaching for a coffee cup. “The upstairs bedroom’s not going to floor itself.”

Trystan sent a flat look at Reid’s back, then told Emma, “You and I have a lot to talk about, like whether I’m going to be your flower girl.”

“Reid said I could be flower girl,” Logan called.

“You have the legs for maid of honor,” Reid said, turning and offering Trystan a shrug of hard news.

“Logan needs a win, Trys. You’re going to have to give him this one,” Emma chimed in. “Besides, you and I don’t talk while we hike. That’s why you let me come with you.”

“Exactly. Stop talking. Get your boots.”

“You don’t feel any urgency to get the upstairs bedroom completed?” she chided. “You’re enjoying the musical beds?”

Logan had been in Storm’s room last night, Reid downstairs on the pullout.

She and Reid had stolen a couple of kisses in the upstairs closet where Reid had found her when the men came home with all the supplies. He’d checked in with her on how his brothers had reacted. They had ruefully decided to “give the boys time to get used to the idea.” She was pleasantly, healthily frustrated by sleeping alone.

She realized a pointed silence had fallen at her remark. Trystan kept his attention on cutting the sandwiches. Reid was reading something on his phone.

“Okay, I’ll say it. We’re kind of surprised he slept downstairs, Em,” Logan called from the dining room. “When you’ve got that big bed all to yourself.”

“Kind of surprised you’re in my business, Logan,” she said, trying not to blush.

“Have you met him?” Reid tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “I have to get to the office. This will probably be your last chance to go bushwhacking for a while. Halibut fishermen are starting to arrive and we’ll only get busier. Weather won’t hold, either.”

“Fine. If you’re all going to twist my arm, I’ll go for a walk and enjoy myself.”

“You want to grab dinner from the pub tonight?” Reid asked as he finished his coffee. “Take one of the yachts for a sunset cruise?”

Trystan’s brows went up and he turned away.

“What?” Reid demanded of his back. “It’s a date. You guys are both on shift and all the Broadway shows are sold out.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Trystan said, adding in a dire aside, “Keep it classy in there, Number Two.”

“I’m not saying anything. Too much respect for Em,” Logan insisted.

She could only imagine the jokes filling their mouths like marbles, from christening the boat with a maiden voyage to wetting a line. She looked to the ceiling, thinking they were a bunch of idiots, but she was growing stupidly fond of them.

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