Page 47 of Nanny for the Firefighter

So, I go into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea and find myself scrolling through social media as I sip at the comforting golden-brown liquid.

After a few minutes, a suggested article comes up, and my stomach clenches.

I still get notices about Jai in the news. As much as I hate seeing them, getting a quick glimpse of his life can tell me if he’s stopped tracking me.

It takes me several long seconds before I’m able to click on the article and read about what he’s been up to.

I just want to know if he’s forgotten about me, if he’s moved on.

According to the piece, his company, XI Tech, is doing well. He’s recently won an award through it.

Something to do with innovation in the tech industry, but I’ve never been able to follow all that.

What I don’t see is any mention of a new girlfriend or being spotted with anyone. And I fall into a rabbit hole trying to dig up any proof that he might have hooked up seriously with anyone else.

Nothing.

My heart pounds as I lock eyes with the photo of Jai at a gala. His charismatic, cold stare lances through me like a laser, and I stifle a shiver.

He can’t be here, at least. The party was just two weeks ago.

I clutch the phone hard enough to turn my knuckles white, unable to pry my eyes away from the picture of him.

“Ugh.”

Hudson’s groan shakes me from my thoughts, and I stuff my cell into my pocket. As I turn in my seat, I’m treated to the sight of my hungover brother dragging himself down the stairs.

He still looks half asleep, and I get up to put the coffee on.

“How ya feeling, bro?”

With a wince, Hudson scrubs his face over his eyes and sits down at the kitchen table.

“Not so loud.”

I chuckle, knowing I’m speaking at a normal volume.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I joke. “Maybe I should get you a nice hangover cure. How about a pork sandwich three days old and served in a bit of Mom’s gutters?”

Hudson groans again, laying his head on the table. “Less making fun of me and more with the coffee and painkillers.”

With a laugh, I bring Hudson a fresh cup of coffee and then reach into the cupboard for the Tylenol. There’s a bottle of Pepto next to it so I deliver that as well.

“Here you go.”

Sitting them down next to him, Hudson hauls himself up from the table with a weak smile.

“My hero.”

“You're welcome. But maybe some sisterly advice?” I eye him with my brows raised, and Hudson nods tiredly. “Next time, don’t take advantage of the bartenders being so gracious with their pours.”

“Noted,” Hudson replies, sipping at his coffee. “But anyway, how was your night. I lost you for a minute there, and then you were so tired you wanted to come home.”

Memories of standing behind Mason’s door while he chatted to Hudson make my heart pound, and I struggle to just nod and shrug.

“Fine. Nothing to write home about. I’m not really one for parties, so I was just feeling overstimulated.”

Hudson nods, or something akin to it, with his head down and his hands wrapped around the warm mug.

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