Page 4 of The Nanny Tenure (Single Dads Club)

“That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Because I got into a car accident.”

“Oh shit.” He reared back, his hands on the glossy bar top. “Really? Are you okay? Is your car okay?”

I sipped from my refilled beer and started to set it back down, but Taylor intercepted it and placed it in front of herself.

“You’re kidding,” I snapped, and Ineversnapped at anyone, let alone my sister.

“No, you’re kidding,” she said with a tip of her chin to my fingers, which were still a little shaky from earlier.

Barely.

No one would even notice. Except for her.

Of course.

My sister noticed everything.

Nate toggled his eyes between the two of us, clearly sensing something off, then tapped the bar and turned to help other customers.

“What’s your problem?” I asked once we were alone.

“My problem is that not even two hours ago, you were crying because you were so upset, and now you’re here trying to drown your sorrows in alcohol.”

I twisted on my stool, my gaze landing on Dean. He was in the middle of fiddling with his guitar strap, but I raised my hand for his attention. He would definitely side with me.

When he spotted me, he set his guitar down and hopped off the little stage in the corner, waved to some people he knew—wives of the other guys in the band—and made his way to us.

“What’s up?” he asked, draping his hand on the back of Taylor’s chair while meeting my gaze.

I pointed at my sister. “She took my drink away.”

“Of course she did. She’s a thief of joy.”

Taylor and Dean had met years ago in law school and hated each other. Coincidentally, they’d ended up working together at my family’s law firm, where they still hated each other. Until recently. Now, I had the big brother I never knew I wanted.

“Hargrove,” my sister said, jaw tight.

He slanted his head toward her. “Yes, Satan?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t give in to her.”

“Don’t baby me,” I bit out, and he nodded at me in solidarity then told her, “Don’t baby her.”

“I’m not babying her.”

“Yes, you are.” I tried to keep the whine from my voice but failed.

My sister huffed and lifted the small glass of whisky that she and Dean always shared before one of his gigs. He watched her drink a bit of the amber liquid then took the glass from her so he could finish it off.

“She’s had a rough day. She’s gotta let off some steam,” Dean murmured once he set the empty glass on the bar, talking about me like I wasn’t right here. And yeah,thatdid make me feel like a baby.

Then he curled his hand around the back of Taylor’s neck and kissed her jaw. “We can take her home if she ties one on. Don’t worry.”

My sister gave in when he kissed her mouth, and he tossed a victorious smile my way. But I didn’t even want the drink anymore.

It was difficult to be not onlyalittle sister, butTaylor Novak’s little sister. Brilliant esquire and overprotective Cancer, she was six years older than me and had been more mother than sibling since our own mom hadn’t always been present, mentally or emotionally.

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