Page 66 of Marrying the Nanny

Reid’s gaze ricocheted off Emma’s. She swore she heard what he was thinking—that if she shared the primary bedroom with him, one of his brothers could move into her room and peace would reign.

She looked away, wishing she could be blasé about sex, not uptight and insecure. She sent him a weak smile and continued packing Storm’s bag for her day with Reid.

“We should get going.” Trystan tried to sip his coffee while holding his mug beyond Storm’s reaching hand.

“Do you want me to drive you down?” Emma offered.

“I don’t.” Trystan jerked his head at Logan. “This diva might need someone to carry his luggage, though.”

“I’ll manage,” Logan said dryly. “Thanks.”

“Come on, boss. We’re doing rounds first thing.” Reid held out his hands to take Storm.

Trystan didn’t give her up. He set aside his coffee and lifted Storm in front of his face. “Gonna miss us, you little weirdo?” He made kissy noises into her neck.

Storm squealed her gurgling laugh and clutched a handful of Trystan’s hair. He winced and disentangled her fist as Logan took her.

“You’re in charge while we’re gone,” Logan told Storm. “Make sure they eat their vegetables and go to bed on time.” When he kissed her, she tried to eat his nose.

“You are a weirdo,” he said, twisting his nose out of her grip.

All the men were looking at the baby with rueful smiles of affection.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat. She mentally took a photo of the moment, wishing Harpreet could see the love they were starting to exhibit toward their baby sister. It made Emma so happy, she was grinning ear to ear.

“All right.” Logan’s sudden self-consciousness snapped the men out of their moment of tenderness. He handed Storm to Reid, who set her onto the sling and started buckling her into it.

“Have a nice life,” Logan said with a lift of his travel mug.

“Yeah. Nice knowing you.” Trystan shouldered his backpack. “Thanks for the boat.”

“Room-sharing issue resolved,” Reid said as he slipped his arms into the sling so Storm faced outward on his chest. “You’ll be home tomorrow night by curfew. Hear me?”

“Almost never,” Logan assured him.

They all trailed out like boys heading off to school.

Emma had a quiet house, which was a mixed blessing since it would give her more time to vacillate on whether or not she should marry Reid.

It had not escaped her notice that with Trystan and Logan gone, she would share an empty house with Reid tonight, just the two of them and the baby, like a husband and wife. Was it the dry run they needed? Or would it prove what a dumb idea their marrying really was?

Lost in thought, she was startled when she heard Sophie’s voice.

“Hey, Em. You here? It’s me.”

Emma went to the top of the stairs. “Up here. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You weren’t answering my texts so I brought lunch. Come eat a fish taco and tell me if you want to go to drink and draw on Friday. They need more bodies or they’ll cancel.”

“What is it?” Emma came down to the kitchen where Sophie was making herself at home, splitting a takeaway tray onto two plates.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Twenty bucks gets you a cocktail and a pencil. You draw a pony or whatever.”

“I can’t draw.”

“That’s why you get a cocktail, so you don’t care that you can’t draw. It’s an excuse to get out of the house. Unless you have a hot date to a red-carpet event, you’re coming. I’ll buy your ticket.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted someone.

“I can pay for my own.” It struck her that if she married Reid, she wouldn’t date anyone else ever again. That was kind of a relief since she had never got the hang of it in the first place. There’d been a few awkward movies with some sweaty handholding followed by a soggy kiss. There’d been a string of open mic nights with a fellow first-year uni student who had never made it clear whether they were actually dating or not. Then Kevin, who had been her adolescent crush. She had let him pressure her into sex on their third date, then they’d both been pressured into keeping the relationship going. And here she was.

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