Page 4 of Holiday Hire

Dad answers, "Sorry, not this time, boys. Your grandmother and I are taking a mission trip to South America for a few months."

"Mission trip? What's that?" Ace asks.

"It's where you help people who are less fortunate than you," Mom responds.

"You're going over the holidays?" Georgia asks with surprise and disappointment in her voice.

Mom smiles. "We're flying home for part of Thanksgiving week and also December 23rd through January 2nd."

"But you'll miss a lot of the fun stuff," Wilder says.

"Agreed. Why would you go over the holidays?" Sebastian asks.

Mom's eyes brighten. "They needed more help. Not many people want to go at this time of year, and your father and I have always wanted to help. Now that he's retired?—"

"Semiretired," Dad interjects, as he still doesn't like the thought of being retired.

"They don't want to go because it's the best time of year!" Isabella, Evelyn's oldest daughter, chimes in.

Mom slides her arm around Isabella and tugs her closer. She replies, "Yes, but we'll be here for the main events."

I rise and focus on Phoebe. "Sorry, I misunderstood why you're here."

She asks, "Why did you think I was here?"

Evelyn answers before I can speak. "He thought our mom was trying to hook you up."

A flush crawls up Phoebe's cheeks.

To my surprise, my dick hardens. It makes no sense. This barely-out-of-college woman isn't my type.

Get her out of here.

I ignore my cock, hoping no one can see it, and explain, "I'm sorry my mom wasted your time. We don't need a nanny."

"You do," Mom insists.

"No, we don't," I hurl back.

"Alexander, sit down. You're making a fool of yourself and being rude to our guest," Dad scolds.

"We don't need a nanny," I reiterate.

"Sit down," he orders, pointing to my chair.

I release a frustrated breath and plop down, objecting, "I can manage the boys alone."

"Really? Who's going to help when you're working?" Mom asks.

I point out, "They spend all their free time outside where we can see them."

"Who's going to help with their homework?"

"I can."

Mom snorts. "You're working past dark almost every night."

Guilt hits me. I haven't been the best at helping the boys with homework. I hated school when I was their age. And my sons take after me. They'd rather be out in the pasture riding horses or playing Cops and Robbers. So they whine as much as I did. Itfrustrates me. But my mom is great with homework, so I've been happy to let her take on those duties.

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