Page 21 of Tell Me Lies

Yeah, right. What about me would she find inspiring? I can’t turn the charm on to show her the old Logan Sterns because she’s my kid’s nanny. And I’m not about to fuck this arrangement up for Amelia because she’s been so happy since Maci started watching her.

Her arm falls lower, and her hand rests right over my dick. I curse inwardly because, well, one, I’m a dude, and two … she’s very, very attractive.

Not wanting to risk popping a chub, I slowly stand, lifting her in my arms. Clyde watches me, as if waiting to see what exactly I’m going to do.

“I’m just taking her to bed,” I whisper-hiss when he cocks his head to the side. “No need to attack me.”

As I walk toward the guest room, he follows close behind. I quietly set her down on the bed, grab the throw blanket from the chair, and put it over her body. Once I take a step back, Clydelies down beside the bed, looking satisfied and convinced I’m not going to hurt his human.

She rolls to the side, curling her legs up to her chest and lifting an arm over her face. Being a professional athlete, I’m used to being around women with plastic body parts and lips that are way too big for their face, but feel damn good when wrapped around my cock. They wear the flashiest clothes and are flawless by anyone’s standards. But this girl? She’s the type of beauty that is underrated. Her skin looks baby soft, and her lips are naturally red and plump. She’s a woman who is just as pretty when she wakes up as she was when she fell asleep. That’s not something that happens very often.

Slowly, I back out of the room and close the door.

I spent hundreds of nights with Maddie just like this one after Amelia fell asleep. And yet I never carried her to bed, nor would I ever. And I certainly didn’t admire her face while she slept.

I don’t know what came over me tonight to make me do all of that. But I know one thing for sure: I can’t let it happen again. Things are going perfectly right now, and if I think with the wrong head and I try to get in her pants, it’ll ruin everything for my daughter; it’ll make shit awkward between Maci and me, and she’ll inevitably quit.

If she were a random woman on the street, yes, I’d try to hook up with her if she was into it. But it’s not like that. And it never will be either.

No matter how attractive or charming I find Maci McKenzie … I. Must. Not. Fuck. Her.

We ride in a sleigh that goes above the park on some kind of track. It’s a bit sketchy, and it looks old as hell, but Amelia is loving it as she sits wedged between Maci and me.

After a few weeks with Maci, Amelia loves her as much as she did Maddie. And it’s killing me, knowing that, in a month, I’ll have to tell her that she’s going to have a new nanny. That is, if I can find one I trust. Next week, I’m going to have the agency that works with our team put out a listing, and hopefully, we can find a good fit. But something tells me no one will fit as well as Maddie or Maci does. And if they do, it’ll be a goddamn miracle.

We round a corner, and the sleigh squeaks and jiggles a bit. I look at Maci, and her eyes are huge as she looks over the edge.

“This is higher up than I recall.” She attempts to smile, though it’s obvious she’s nervous.

I lean all the way to one side, making the sleigh uneven. Before we got on it, I studied the ride enough to know it couldn’t tip. Otherwise, no way would I fuck around this way. Hell, I wouldn’t have let the girls on it at all if it looked like it wasn’t safe. But seeing Maci sweat a tad is totally worth it right now.

“Cut it out,” she hisses behind Amelia’s head, giving me dagger eyes. “Didn’t you read the sign? You can’t goof around on these things!”

I move around more, stomping my feet. Amelia is too busy gazing out at the view of the park to even notice, but Maci’s face is as red as a tomato.

“Your three-year-old is behaving better than you,” she hisses, darting her eyes to Amelia. “Cut the sh—crap.”

“You seem awfully nervous, Boston,” I coo, pulling my ball cap down further because there’s no way I want to be recognized today. This day is about Amelia, not me or my fans. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of heights.”

“I am not.” She rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to the view.

It’s overcast today, which is my favorite type of weather—the kind where you can throw on a sweatshirt and shorts or jeans and be good to go. That’s part of why I love Maine; the weather slowly starts to cool in September, making it the ideal temperature.

I look down and spot a pretend post office, where you can send Santa letters and he’ll send you one back. I want to take Amelia there before we leave. This is the first Christmas that she’s finally starting to understand the whole Santa Claus thing, and I can’t wait.

This place is corny and definitely older than Santa Claus’s balls, yet I kind of love it here. I might need to make this a yearly thing with Amelia, especially since it’s clear she loves this place and it’s making me more excited for Christmas.

Though I’ll admit, I hate that the old dude with the beard gets all the credit, and I just look like a loser. I guess that’s what parents do though. Anything to make our kids’ lives more magical without taking any of the credit.

I love taking credit for shit.

“I want to do that!” She points her tiny finger toward a barn, where reindeer roam outside. “Can we go there right now, Maci?!”

“As soon as we get off this … really fun sleigh, we certainly can.” She smiles. “And you even get to feed them!”

Amelia’s mouth hangs open in pure disbelief, and I feel warmth spreading across my chest, knowing how happy she is right now. I glance at Maci, who’s wearing a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee and a light-gray crewneck sweatshirt with the wordbookishacross the chest.

“Did they give you a discount because of that hole?” I say, jerking my chin toward the jeans.

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