Page 58 of Marrying the Nanny

“So do you. Respect the shift,” Trystan reminded him with a nod at Storm. His gaze met Reid’s with a glimmer of enjoyment.

To his credit, Logan didn’t glower his resentment at Storm. He glowered at Trystan. “I know you’re fucking with me.”

“I wonder if Art wants to do it,” Trystan mused.

“Are you done?” Logan said, rising as if to clear the plates, but that wasn’t what he meant.

Reid smirked. “If Sophie will cover the marina, I’ll cover your shift with Storm. You owe me, though.”

“Deal. Thank you for being an adult. But hey”—he paused with the plates in his hands, speaking to Trystan—“if you’re off Storm duty tomorrow, can you help at the marina? Get some boats ready? I can take her into the office, but she is useless in the yard. Doesn’t listen to a word I say.”

“Takes after you, I guess.” Trystan scraped up his last bite and handed off his plate. “I could do that, seeing as I can’t tear out the carpet upstairs until princess drains his waterbed.”

“Guess what we’re doing after dinner?” Reid asked Storm. “We’re looking for a hose. Then I get to bunk with you tonight and sleep on a real mattress.”

*

Emma wasn’t a heavy drinker. Her mother thought women should act like ladies and only indulge socially. Her brother and ex-husband had been such a pair of yobbos, she’d been turned off sloppy drunks for life. Mostly, though, she kept herself to a strict limit of two glasses because she hated hangovers.

Tonight, she’d had three. There’d been a lot of eating and jabbering and laughter over several hours so she wasn’t even tipsy, just in high spirits. She was feeling cheeky and brave and ready to face whatever razzing the men dished out over her flashing incident with Reid.

“Hey, Em,” Logan greeted as she came in through the carport. He was starting a load of laundry. “Have fun?”

“Yes. And I am the comeback queen. Go ahead and hit me with one of your trashy one-liners. I will slay you.”

He leaned a hip on the washer. “You’re drunk. I’m telling Dad.”

She pointed at him and hit a mental wall because he hadn’t come at her with the bathtub thing. “I don’t actually have a response to that. If you’re not going to play the game right, I can’t be held responsible.”

“Blame the victim why don’t you?”

That was it? Logan should have been the first and the worst at piling on. Had Reid not told him?

“I’m not sure if you understand what the expression slay means,” Logan said with laughter in his eyes.

“Yeah, I might have got it mixed up with schooled. I’m going to go put on my pajamas.”

“Sick burn,” he called at her back.

“I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little dog, too,” she threw back lamely, still confused.

As she arrived at the top of the basement stairs and walked toward the ones that led to her room, Trystan looked up from where he was working on his laptop at the dining room table.

“Not your best work,” he said with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Yeah, it’s been a full day of getting caught with my pants down.” She eyed him, waited.

“Why?” He sat back. “What happened?”

She started to say, Reid didn’t tell you? She caught herself and shook it off with a mumbled “Nothing.”

As she entered her room, she heard Reid in the bathroom, pulling Storm from her bath.

Awareness and proximity pulled so taut within her, Emma winced. She was grateful Reid hadn’t laughed with his brothers about seeing her naked, but now it felt like they had this weirdly intimate secret that should have been joked away.

She really didn’t want to face him, but made herself call out, “Reid? I’m back.”

A brief pause that rang with significance. Then, “Come in. I need to talk to you.”

---