Page 12 of Military Daddies' Nanny

Until I enlisted, that is.

Pursing my lips, I shake my head sharply to dislodge the memories. Jessie was part of another lifetime, one that died alongside the idealistic dreamer I was back then. Whatever hopes I'd had of finding that kind of love again sputtered out years ago.

Still…Nancy's arrival has lit an unexpected spark of interest within me, however faint. Not attraction, per se—how could it be, when I'd just met the woman? More a sense of possibilities, a curiosity about what kinds of changes her presence could bring to our staid, overly regimented lives. Maybe her warmth was just what we needed to melt this emotional deep freeze we'd found ourselves encased in.

I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness toward the kids; an instinctive drive to keep them safe, that flares every time I sense their innocence being threatened. Perhaps having a nurturing maternal figure around could help them rediscover the joys of childhood they've been deprived of for far too long.

For all Drew's bluster about order and discipline, there are some things that require a softer touch, an open heart. Nancy could be the balm our fractured family so desperately needs.

The sound of laughter filters up from downstairs, Nancy's bright, tinkling laugh intermingling with the higher-pitched giggles of Bella and Jason. A reluctant grin tugs at my lips as I recognize those sounds, so rarely heard in our home these days.

I can't resist the urge to go investigate. Quietly, I creep down the hall and peek into the living room. Nancy is sitting on the couch, the kids flanking her on either side as she reads aloud from a book, her expression animated and inviting.

Jason leans into her side, listening raptly, while Bella's usual brooding frown has melted into a bemused smile. Drew stands off to the side, his muscular arms crossed over his barrel chest as he watches them silently.

As if sensing my presence, Nancy glances over at me. Our eyes meet again, and I feel an unexpected jolt of electricity. Her gaze holds the same hint of warmth, of possibilities, that has me reevaluating everything I thought I knew.

In that moment, I realize that Nancy's mere presence in our home has already begun to thaw the chill that's descended over us. Her lightness counterbalances Drew's severity, and the infectious joy radiating from her gentle attention acts like a balm on the kids' wounded spirits.

Drew may think he's just found the solution to coping with his busy work schedule, but I suspect Nancy's impact will prove far more profound than any of us could have anticipated.

As I watch her charm the kids with a silly voice, breathing fresh life and energy into our dreary lives, I can't help but wonder — could she be the ray of sunshine we so desperately need?

If anyone can melt the impenetrable ice encasing our broken family, it's this unassuming, nurturing young woman, as vibrant and vital as a newborn spring flower blooming in the wake of a cruel winter.

Perhaps, having her here really will be like planting the seeds for a long-overdue rebirth.

Chapter 5

Nancy

I sink onto the soft mattress of my new room, taking a moment to catch my breath and let my surroundings sink in.

In the end, I decided it would do me more good to take the job.

Drew seemed really in need of help and I couldn't in good conscience turn my back on that. He had mentioned that I didn't have anything to worry about or to be scared about. Well, Jamie knows where I am in case anything goes wrong. Plus, I feel like I'm meant to be here. I know it sounds cliché, but it's true.

Though modest in size, the space is warm and inviting, decorated in rich earth tones with cheerful splashes of color from the knitted afghan folded at the foot of the bed.

Unpacking my meager belongings shouldn’t take long—just a few hanging dresses in the closet and some folded sweaters in the antique dresser against the far wall.

Already it feels more like a home than my house ever did. I trail my fingers along the soft, woolen blanket, marveling at how such a simple domestic touch can breathe so much life and personality into a room.

A muffled thump from somewhere out in the hall snaps me from my musings. I straighten, straining to hear any other sounds that might hint as to what caused the unexpected noise.

When I don’t hear anything else after a few moments, I rise from the bed, padding over to the bedroom door and easing it open to peek out.

What I find rooted in the hallway makes my breath stutter in my lungs. Nathan lingers a few doors down, one hand braced against the wall as he bends to collect a fallen cardboard box.

His broad back is to me, those powerful muscles flexing beneath the cotton fabric of his simple gray T-shirt as he shifts. Even from behind, his physique is undeniably impressive — the kind of sun-kissed, rangy strength that comes from years spent laboring in the sun, not just mindless hours at a gym.

My gaze tracks hungrily over the way that worn shirt stretches taut across the broad expanse of his shoulders, the fabric growing tighter and beginning to shape itself to the contours of sculpted muscle the further down his back I look.

Good lord, the man is absolutely mouth-watering.

My tongue darts out to wet suddenly dry lips. I shouldn't be ogling him like a piece of meat, but there's no denying the insistent tugs of want that tighten low in my belly.

He straightens, rising to his full, towering height, and a soft gasp slips past my lips when he turns enough to offer me a glimpse of chiseled cheekbones and heavy-lidded eyes.

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