Page 18 of Curvy Nanny for the Grumpy Single Dad

I shrugged. “You have to be when you grow up in the shadow of a beauty queen.”

“Mother?”

I nodded. “Decades ago, but she passed the torch on to my sister who is stunning, poised and well spoken, which I decidedly am not. I grew up with everyone comparing me to her, and I always fell short. I grew a tough, thick skin to most criticism.” Most people were as callous as they were clueless when it came to so-called well-meaning criticism. “By the time I was seventeen I learned to tune them out. And by the time I was twenty-three, I learned to love myself all over again.”

“That explains it,” he said ominously.

Immediately I was on edge, but I took a beat and then another to quell my apprehension before I spoke. “Explains what?”

“Your empathy, and I don’t know, the way you talk with Lena is amazing. You encourage her, but in a gentle way that gives her confidence, and then you praise her for what seems like just being herself. It’s impressive.”

I swallowed around a lump of coal in my throat. “Wow. Thanks, Dante. That means a lot.” Most parents considered me nothing more than a glorified babysitter that they paid a premium to, but his recognition of my skills really meant something to me. “You’re not just a pretty face.”

He laughed, the sound rich and deep, almost soothing. “You think I have a pretty face?”

I rolled my eyes. “I think you know how pretty you are, Mr. Rush.”

“Still,” he batted his eyelashes and preened. “A guy likes to hear it sometimes.”

That brief flash of humor was too much for my poor, neglected hormones to take, especially when I nursed an ill-advised crush on my too grumpy boss.

Chapter 12

Dante

“We’re doing fine Mom. I swear. Why would I lie to you?” My weekly video call with my parents was off to an expected start with my mom worried that I was withholding things from her, and my dad backing her up as he always did.

“I don’t know Dante, but you have a knack for thinking you have to handle every hardship on your own. You didn’t tell us about your divorce until it was a done deal.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and wished I was religious so that I could pray for patience right now. “I didn’t want you to do anything that might make Bethany decide to aim for custody of Lena.”

Mom scoffed. “As if we would ever.”

“Not on purpose, but you definitely would have tried to talk her into making things work by telling her how a little girl needs a mother, which might have resulted in her trying to bleed me dry.” Luckily for everyone but Lena, Bethany had no interest in motherhood once she realized that my devotion to my little girl would never transfer to her and her ladder climbing needs.

Mom sighed as if she was offended, but I knew she was merely angling to make me feel guilty. “Well you never gave us a chance to butt in, so I guess we’ll never know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I grew up with you Mom, remember? I know you better than you realize.”

Her cheeks turned a harsh shade of pink that made me and my dad laugh. “Okay well, I concede nothing. Where’s my grandbaby?”

“She’ll be down soon enough.” Lena loved her weekly talks with her grandparents, and any second now she would rush down the stairs excited to recount every second of her week since the last conversation.

“Holy moly, son! When you start dating again you start right at the top, don’t cha?” Dad’s tone combined with his suggestive eyebrow wiggle drew a frown from me. “She’s a real looker. Good for you, son.”

I had no idea what the hell my dad was talking about. “Is he all right, Mom?” The familiar sound of feminine laughter drew my attention behind me, and what I saw nearly knocked me off my chair.

Lucy stood behind me in a deep green sundress with pale green flowers, the straps were so damn tiny it was a miracle they kept her breasts contained. She gave a small wave, barely able to contain her laughter.

Mom smacked dad’s arm playfully. “For crying out loud, Sam. She can hear you.” She turned back to the camera and leaned forward. “He’s sorry dear. My Sam can’t seem to think straight around pretty young things. Forgets all his decades of training.”

Lucy laughed again and shook her head. She was fresh faced with a girl-next-door charm that was only underscored by her innate sex appeal and the way the dress hugged her curves.

“Lucy,” I finally managed to growl in her direction. “What’re you doing here?”

“Headed towards the kitchen for something to drink,” she said as if it was obvious. “What are you doing?”

My nostrils flared. “Talking to my parents,” I sighed and turned back to the computer screen. “Lucy Lions, meet my parents, Sam and Cheryl Rush. Mom and Dad, this is Lucy.”

---