Page 12 of Sexy Bad Daddy

Chapter Four

GARRETT

Abby’s fast asleep, curled up in bed when I get back from the club. She snuffles and snuggles into her covers while I kiss the top of her head and inhale her fresh, clean smell. Huh. Erin can manage to get my daughter in the bath. A feat in itself.

Not that this was the new nanny’s only accomplishment today. She sent a half dozen images to my phone during the course of the afternoon to reiterate I’d made the right decision on extending her trial to a full week in my house. Pictures of Abby dancing and laughing. A snapshot of my little girl wearing incredibly dorky star-shaped sunglasses. Still, the fact that Abby already seems to like Erin creates a small knot of unease in my gut that I haven’t been able to shake off since we met at the club this morning. Erin’s young and she’s in a relationship. How long until I have to search for another nanny? I should have told the agency I only wanted mature women who have already raised their own kids.

Padding out of the darkened room that’s lit only by a golf ball-shaped nightlight, I shut the door partway and head toward the kitchen, my stomach rumbling. I ate dinner with Callum, had a couple of drinks while we’d discussed arrangements for the upcoming tour. If I don’t keep my sponsors happy though, there won’t be a tour for me. I couldn’t eat much while Callum outlined our plan to keep my benefactors happy and my iron in my hand. Being unable to compete would ruin my ranking. Even a season off from the professional league could affect my career. I’m thirty-seven now, and the field is getting younger.

The door to the spare bedroom opens as I pass, light spilling into the hall as Erin steps out in front of me. It’s all I can do not to collide with her. And not to notice—uh, stare at—the white cami and short shorts that make her legs look like they go on forever. As if that dress she wore today weren’t short enough. I’d had to give her that golf lesson from as far away as I could manage so she didn’t cop a feel of my own iron pressed up against her ass. Considering the whole point of our meeting was to trial her as my nanny, Abby’s nanny, making an effort not to hit on her seemed prudent. But hell, I’m only human.

“Jesus. Give a guy a warning. Yell fore or something.”

“Oh crap.” She almost puts her hands on my chest, like she’s expecting me to still smack into her. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

“Well, I am. Got in a few minutes ago.”

Ducking her head, she glances at the partially open door to the spare room, her room, and the delicate muscles at her throat cord. “I was going to get something to drink, but now that you’re home, perhaps you might want to chat a bit more about your expectations. I’ll just chuck on some sweats.”

We probably should. I didn’t really give her a rundown of how our days go. Likely because I’ve been doing it all for the past couple of months and I’m kind of used to it now. Before that we had Mrs. Peters, and I let her run the show while I tried to wrap my head around the fact I have a daughter, let alone learn how to take care of her.

“Sure.” I almost grasp Erin’s elbow to usher her down the hallway, but at the last minute I redirect my hand to rub the knots in my shoulder instead. “How about we talk over sandwiches? I’m famished.”

“There’s leftover mac and cheese if you want,” she says when she rejoins me in the hallway a quick minute later, zipping up the front of her hooded sweatshirt. She pushes a tendril of hair out of her face, and a smattering of freckles along her neck distract me. “I hope that was okay. I saw the ingredients in the cupboard, and Abby said she loved it, so—”

“That’s fine.” I follow her to the kitchen, trying to stare at the back of her head and not let my gaze drop to the curve of her ass in those sweatpants. She’s probably trying to be modest—or keeping me from thinking about her naked. They’re not even the ridiculous sweats with words like juicy, score, or pink, but they may as well be. Damn velvety, hip-hugging pants that make me think about sex. And here I thought her having a boyfriend and a knack for shutting me down would help me deal with being attracted to her. A shame my body didn’t get the memo that the nanny is off limits. “I’d prefer she eat some vegetables, but it’s your first day together.”

“Oh, I mixed bacon and zucchini through it. Topped it with breadcrumbs.” She smiles at me over her shoulder.

“She ate that?” Hell, I want to eat that, but Abby’s fussy. Getting her to eat zucchini seems like mission impossible.

“Uh-huh. Then she played in the tub for a while before bed and a book.” Erin flips on the overhead lights in the kitchen and goes to the fridge to drag out a Tupperware container. “I could make you a sandwich instead if you want.”

“It’s not your job to look after me.” I collect a plate from an overhead cupboard. “Only Abby.”

She’s already removed the lid and put it in the microwave to reheat; she pours a glass of milk while we wait. “You want one?”

“Think I’ll have a beer.” I retrieve a Goose Island IPA before she can beat me to it. I take a long pull as I settle on a barstool. “So you bribed my kid?”

“No. Why do you say that?” She slides the milk carton back in the door and uses her hip to shut it.

“She ate vegetables and bathed. Possibly without screaming the house down.”

“I was going to ask you about that.” The microwave beeps, and she grabs the container and scoops the contents onto the plate before snatching a fork from the cutlery drawer and placing the whole thing in front of me. “She seemed very upset at the idea when I first mentioned it. Is there a reason she doesn’t normally enjoy bath time?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. Her mom wasn’t particularly great at being a mother. She had some issues that might have been traumatic for Abby.” I concentrate on forking macaroni into my mouth. Erin’s only here on a trial basis and already she’s been inducted into the group of people Abby loves. That’s pretty clear, so how much am I supposed to tell her? And how do I explain that this nannying gig is no short-term contract?

“I didn’t know I had a daughter for the first two years of Abby’s life.” I set the fork down and push the plate away. “Not until a lawyer from Dallas showed up at my door to tell me that her mother wasn’t able to take care of her. She wanted to hand over full custody just like that.” I click my fingers. “So I flew down to Dallas and met Abby’s mother at the courthouse. And here we are. I don’t really know why she hates water, or if it’s a normal kid phase. I’m still flailing around with the parenting thing, which is why I need a nanny long term.”

“Does that mean you want me to stick around longer than the trial period? Can I unpack my suitcases?” She takes the plate and scrapes it off in the sink. “Because I’d really like to be your daughter’s nanny. Abby’s a great kid.”

“I guess, yeah, you’ve got the job.” Getting up, I set the stool under the edge of the island. “As long as you’re planning on sticking around. If this is some interim job for you, now’s the time to say so. I don’t want to have to go through this rigmarole again.”

“No. Absolutely not. I want to be here as long as Abby needs me as her nanny.” She follows me as I trudge into the living room.

“Well then.” I thrust out my hand in front of her. “We have a deal.”

She doesn’t hesitate to squeeze my hand. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

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