Page 38 of Nanny for the Firefighter

I need to get up and stretch my legs.

As I do, dizziness hits me for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve lost my tolerance after months of going without a drink.

Shit, Bridget. Are you drunk on one fucking whiskey? Jeez.

Standing up has moved everything around, and now I need to use the bathroom. So, I make my way toward the house, my steps sloppier than I’d like.

When the sound of my steps changes as I hit the grass again, I notice a taller man near the backdoor.

The guy is wearing an impeccable suit, and his darker blonde hair is coifed into a slick, combed-back style.

My stomach churns as my pulse kicks up into high gear.

I know that style. I recognize that color.

Jai?

The man is turning in my direction, and I stare, frozen in place. What color are his eyes? Is it him?

But before I can confirm my suspicions, someone yells from inside the house, drawing his attention.

Blondie turns away from me, and I can’t see his face.

“No.”

I’m rushing across the yard toward the house before I can think better of it.

He can’t be here. He can’t be in Mason’s house. Fuck, what do I do? Mia is right next door. He wouldn’t try anything in a place this crowded, would he?

Or is that precisely what he would do?

I’m acting without thinking, nearing sprinting through the grass to get to the house. I get to the door just a few seconds after the guy goes inside.

“Dammit.”

I follow, ducking and weaving through people as the man makes his way toward the kitchen.

A group of laughing people shifts into my path, and I have to stop short.

“Excuse me.” I try to circle around them. “Ex-excuse me.”

Eventually, I make it through, but when I get to the kitchen, there’s no sign of the tall, blonde man I’ve been tracking.

“Shit. No, no, no. I need?—”

As I frantically eye the space around me, someone steps out from the pantry. It’s him.Whatthe hell was he doing in there?

My heart is in my throat, and I feel sick to my stomach. Every inch of my skin is crawling as I tremble, and I shoot out an arm as the guy goes to leave again.

Snagging his shoulder, I stop him, and he spins around toward me with a confused scowl.

“Can I help you?”

Blue. This man’s eyes are blue. And then I notice the nametag secured to his vest and the bottle of wine in his hand.

I’ve been chasing down a server.Great.

“No, I…I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

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