Page 24 of Curvy Nanny for the Nerd

She giggled sweetly, smiling triumphantly when the middle-aged woman behind the counter offered up several samples without checking that it was all right. “I love this place!”

“I’ll bet,” I mumbled as we made our way to the car and back to the mansion that was starting to feel a lot like home. My feet froze as we stepped inside. The house smelled like food. Warm and delicious, and flavorful food.

“Who’s here?” Layla’s voice was shaky and her hand tightened in mine, which was the first sign that the little girl was uneasy.

“Only one way to find out.” I gave her a supportive squeeze and led the way towards the kitchen where Brady stood wearing an apron as he stood in front of the stove.

“Uncle Brady made dinner?” Layla’s confusion was palpable and the hurt on her face was perplexing. “What’s wrong?” She asked in a shrill, shaky voice.

Brady turned to his niece. “Nothing’s wrong. I finished work early and figured it was my turn to cook. I made lasagna and bought salad, fried ravioli with three dipping sauces and tiramisu.” He looked to me and then the little girl. “Layla what did I do?”

“Nothing,” she said barely above a whisper and dropped my hand before she fled the kitchen for the safety of her bedroom.

“What did I do?” His silver blue eyes were wide and stricken, worried he might’ve done something to hurt Layla. “Toni?”

I sighed and shook my head. “It’s not you, it’s the situation. She thought you were going to give her bad news.”

“What kind of bad news would I give her?”

I shrugged. “She lost her parents, Brady. That shakes a kid to their core and anything that comes close to that moment, it’s emotional.” The poor kid just needed a minute. “Her parents’ housekeeper had watched her make her favorite snack, and then told her that her parents were dead and not coming back.”

“I never cook,” he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yeah. She might’ve assumed, you know…” I said vaguely, because I didn’t want to be the one to remind him of his behavior towards his niece.

“Assumed what?” he barked at me, his voice tight and angry.

“That you were gearing up to send her away,” I said in a flat tone.

“Dammit,” he growled and moved the sauce off the hot burner. “What more can I do?”

“This isn’t about you, Brady. It’s about Layla and her trauma. All you can do is be here and keep being here for her. Make her feel welcome and wanted and loved. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can.”

I smiled at his indignation. “Then do that, and she’ll come around.” Unable to help myself, I crossed the kitchen to offer him a supportive shoulder squeeze. “She’s emotional and she needs to process her feelings. Give her a few minutes.”

His gaze shifted and darkened as his arms wrapped around my waist. “A few minutes, you say?”

My face flamed with heat and an unstoppable smile as I nodded.

“Thank you, Toni.” His words came out on a low, and then his mouth was on mine, hungry and intense. He kissed me as if he missed me, as if we hadn’t spent all night—for the past week—wrapped up in one another. It was the kind of kiss that madeyour toes curl, that made your heart pound so loudly you can’t hear anything else.

Brady’s kisses made me feel drunk and I clung to him as my legs weakened and my core tightened, my whole body flushed with heat. I moaned and he swallowed it, pulling me closer so not even a gust of wind could fit between us.

“Wow,” I sighed when he pulled back. “You’re welcome.”

His laughter was deep and rich. It was such a welcome sound and the warmth it produced in me sounded the warning bells deep in my mind. “Anytime, Toni. Anytime.”

The bells got louder because when Brady smiled at me like that, I forgot all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

Chapter 13

Brady

“Are you sure this is the best way?” My brows arched in Toni’s direction, skeptical that such a simple solution could fix the devastated expression on Layla’s face. How long would it take to forget that look? To forget that she still thought this wasn’t her home?

“I’m sure,” she said with a devious smile, holding her phone out with one hand and the tub of ice cream in the other. “Get in here,” she ordered and shoved the tub in my hand. “Now, smile,” she ordered and removed the spoon from the tub, tapping the tip of my nose with the pink concoction. “Perfect.”

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