Page 55 of Nanny for the Firefighter

“It’s fine, Mason. Go. I’ll watch Mia while you deal with work stuff.”

He sags with relief. “Thank you. It won’t be long.”

“Like I said, I’m in no rush.”

As he moves past me to take the call in the office, Mason puts a hand on my shoulder and meets my eyes.

“Really. Thank you. You’re a total lifesaver, B. I’d be lost without you.”

Mason heads off, and I know he was just being complimentary since I’m doing him a little favor. Still, I can’t stop my stomach from doing backflips.

“Tea!”

I snap to attention, looking down at Mia with a grin. “Right. Tea. Let’s go.”

It turns out that the phone call is actuallyquitelong, and I have Mia help with dinner so that Mason doesn’t have to worry about feeding her.

But when Mason still hasn’t come out of the office, and I can hear him exchanging frustrated words, I decide to put Mia down to sleep rather than keep her up.

She’s clearly tired now, too, her little eyelids drooping, and getting her tucked into bed and off to sleep is easy.

When I come back down the stairs, I can hear that Mason is off the call. Still, he hasn’t come out of the office, and I know he hasn’t eaten.

My eyes move to the door and then back down the hall toward the office.

Mason is a big boy. He can get his own dinner. Just leave a note and say that Mia went down like a charm and that you’ll see him tomorrow.

But my heart just pounds in my chest at that idea, demanding I help the poor guy who is unlikely to eat anything tonight if someone doesn’t make him.

I’ve known Mason for a while, and even when we were teens, he could get distracted by projects or jobs and forget to have dinner.

This is also dangerous territory. Being alone with Mason? Even for a minute, that could be risky.

I snag my purse from where it hangs on the chair and sling it over my shoulder. I’m all the way to the door when I stop.

“I can’t. I can’t just leave without helping him.”

Walking back to the kitchen, I flop my purse down on the counter and go to the fridge. I’ll just make him a quick sandwich and then be on my way.

Easy peasy.

When I’ve got a bit of turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mustard—Mason hates mayonnaise—on some wheat bread, I snag a plate and get Mason’s impromptu dinner ready for him, complete with a napkin because God forbid he get anything on one of his fancy shirts.

Steeling myself, I head to Mason’s office and knock on the door. He’s still off the phone it sounds like, and when he doesn’t answer, I go in.

“Hey, you need to eat. I made you a sandwich.”

A bit startled, Mason turns around from staring at his computer and sighs. He looks down at the plate with a mournful grin and nods.

“Oh. Okay. Just leave it over there. Thanks.”

When I set the sandwich on the desk near him and Mason doesn’t so much as glance in its direction, I know he’s going to leave it there without so much as taking a bite.

I step up closer to him, trying to put my body in the path of his peripheral vision.

“Mason, you need to eat. Come on. Work can wait for two minutes.”

He lets out a low scoff, looking up from his computer to level me with a glare.

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