Page 19 of Military Daddies' Nanny

“Oh, God,” Carlos mutters under his breath.

I stare at Drew, incredulous. It takes me a moment to regain my composure. “That was not my intention. I was only trying to be helpful, to contribute. I don’t think that was such a bad thing."

“Guys,” Carlos's voice is getting louder but he is ignored.

Drew runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his eyes. "You're supposed to help keep an eye on the kids, Nancy. You don't have to take on everything."

The implication behind his words stings, and I feel my temper rising. "I'm aware of that, Drew. But I assure you, I do know my limits, and I don’t intend to cross any lines here."

Drew opens his mouth to respond, but Carlos cuts him off, wiping his hands on a napkin with a pleading look in his eyes. “Okay, that's enough.” He shifts his gaze across the both of us then finally settles on his friend. “Come on, Drew. Chill out, man. You don’t always have to make everything so difficult. All she’s trying to do is help out. Criticizing her like this…”

The room falls silent, the air thick with tension. Carlos looks between us, clearly wondering whether he made a smart choice when he decided to intervene.

Drew's eyes flash with anger. "I'm not trying to criticize, Nancy. I just call it like I see it. Plus, I was only trying to help.”

I laugh, a short, humorless sound. "If you really want to help, maybe start by trusting me to do my job."

He takes a step closer, his voice low and intense. "I do trust you. But I also don’t want you burning out. Especially not on my watch, and not under my roof."

“Thank you for looking out for me,” I say with thinly veiled annoyance. “I can do with less of that, honestly. If you’ll excuse me, I have something I need to take care of.”

With that, I turn on my heel and walk out of the kitchen with measured steps, my heart pounding with anger and irritation. I need air and space to clear my head and escape the suffocating tension.

Why does he always argue with me?

I know what I'm doing when it comes to helping children, especially preteens like Bella who are navigating the most tricky of their childhood years. But as much as Drew's pigheadedness riles me up, I can't deny the spark of arousal I feel anytime I'm in his presence.

Those strong arms, that towering muscular frame, the rugged handsomeness of his chiseled features—he's unfairly attractive in a very primal, masculine way.

And then there's his brother Nathan with his leaner build, messy hair, and sexy nerd vibe behind those glasses. Not to mention their friend Carlos, all brash confidence and roguish charm.

I shake my head, exasperated with myself as I continue stomping down the sidewalk. What is wrong with me? Am I really just some repressed woman who gets flustered around any remotely good-looking man?

The thought makes me frown. No, I don't think that's it. I've encountered plenty of attractive guys over the years without feeling anywhere near this level of heated awareness.

There's just something about those three that does it for me in a big way. Which is ridiculous and more than a little unprofessional, considering I'm Drew’s employee, essentially. I need to get a grip.

I find a dingy little dive bar on the road across from me a few blocks later. Without thinking, I cross the near-empty street and push open the bar’s sturdy door. Maybe a drink or two will settle my raging hormones.

The place is fairly empty this early in the evening, with just a couple of lonely drunks hunched over the scarred bar top. I snag a free stool and order a glass of white wine from the disinterested-looking bartender, sipping it slowly as I try to decompress.

It doesn't take long for a couple of pretty decent-looking guys to amble over, obviously hoping to strike up a conversation with the "new girl" at the bar.

They both have that overly-friendly, vaguely predatory air that sets off alarm bells for me immediately. One leans in too close as he offers to buy my next drink with a sleazy smile.

"Thanks, but I'm good," I demur politely, pulling slightly away to put some distance between me and the newcomers.

The guy's smile slips fractionally, taking on an annoyed edge that makes me bristle. "Aw c'mon now, don't be like that," he presses, reaching out to try and touch my arm. "We're all just here for a good time."

"She said she's not interested,amigo. Why don't you take the hint?"

The deep, familiar voice from behind me sends a shiver down my spine. I turn to see Nathan approaching, hazel eyes leveled in a cool glare at the offending guy.

The creep opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but seems to think better of it at the last second after getting a look at Nathan's subtly intimidating presence. He and his buddy back off with some grumbling.

Nathan slides onto the stool next to me, signaling the bartender for a beer.

"You really shouldn't be out drinking alone," he chides me gently, though there's a hint of a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Especially in these kinds of rough-around-the-edges places. Never know what kind of unsavory characters you might attract."

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