Page 14 of Single Dad's Hot Nanny

Putting the tray down, she rubbed her palms together and smiled. “Come on, right here.” She patted the space right beside her.

I hesitated because sitting so close to her probably wasn’t a good idea after that intense moment in the parking lot. But the invitation in her eyes was impossible to resist. Swallowing hard, I walked over and sat beside her. The proximity immediately reignited the electric tension between us.

She felt it because her cheeks took on that pretty flush as they did before, and I saw the way her chest rose with a deep inhale. The scent of her perfume, a delicate blend of floral and vanilla, made my pulse quicken. I’d never felt this incredible attraction to any woman. Feeling it for Jane contradicted the wholeageissue. My libido didn’t give a shit that she was younger than I preferred.

To my further shock, she leaned closer to snag my tie.

“What are you—” My sharp inhale cut my words off because her face was mere centimeters from mine, and I had to put all my focus into fighting the urge to kiss her.

She loosened my tie with an airy giggle and pulled it from around my neck. “There are more rules to the game. You’re not allowed to see. You’ll have to rely on smell and taste alone.”

When she moved to put my tie over my eyes, I pulled back. “I don’t think so. I like to be able to see.”

She huffed. “You have major trust and control issues, don’t you?”

I glowered at her, slightly annoyed that she kept hitting every nail on the head about my traits. “We all have our issues.”

She gave me a mischievous smile, which I was starting to gather was typical for her. “We do, but it’s a game, Michael. Part of the fun is guessing. Just let go and have fun.”

I’d lost count of the amount of times I’d heard those words, but as an undeniable control freak,letting goandfunwere missing from my vocabulary. I glanced at the tray lined with froyo—her choices on one side and mine on the other. The allure of her playful spirit was irresistible, and I caved.

“Fine.” My shoulders relaxed, and I allowed her to blindfold me. I had to fight through a wave of discomfort, but it was replaced by disbelief when I felt something cold touching my lips. I snatched the tie from over my eyes to frown at her. “You said nothing about feeding me. You’re notfeedingme.”

Her eyeballs did a dramatic roll as she heaved a sigh. “Michael, it’s agame. Lighten up.”

I supposed I was overreacting, but in my defense, I just wasn’t used to being playful. Reining in my control freak ways, I sighed and tried again. “Okay. Let’s do this. So I’m supposed to guess the flavors you chose?”

“Exactly.” She smiled and reached over to pull the silky material back over my eyes.

This time when I felt the cool touch of the spoon against my lips, I opened my mouth.

“Hmmm… this one tastes chocolaty. Chocolate fudge?” I guessed.

“That’s right.” I could practically hear the smile in her voice, and I wondered if she was always this cheerful. “Next one.”

The process continued and so far I had gotten two out of three right. The fourth round really started to test the bonds of my control. I must have gotten froyo on my lips because Jane’s finger swiped over them, and my breath snagged in my throat. Her touch was light, but it sent a shiver through me.

She made a humming sound and murmured, “This one is tasty.”

Did she lick the same finger she used to wipe my mouth? I pictured her finger between her lush lips and had to swallow a groan.

“You’re good at this,” she said.

“Well I…” I stopped before mentioning that I had a six-year-old who had made me taste just about every flavor of froyo and ice cream. However, I’d likely never see Jane again, so my kid was none of her business. “I guess my attention to detail helps… even when I’m using just my taste buds.”

Her soft, breathy laugh sent a delicate gust of warm air over my face, and my jaw clenched. Being deprived of sight hadallmy other senses heightened. The sound of Jane’s voice, her smell, the slight brushes of her fingers against my face… God help me, but it was getting easier to ignore the reason I’d decided to not see her again.

“Here’s the final one,” she said, and the spoon pressed against my lips.

I savored the sweet and tangy flavors and confidently guessed, “Mango-pineapple.”

“Four out of five. You did really well. Now I’m afraid I’ll lose.”

Smiling, because I couldn’t help myself, I whipped the makeshift blindfold off. “This yogurt clash isn’t so bad.”

She snorted. “You only think so because there’s a good chance you’ll win.”

Smirking, I asked, “What if it’s a tie?”

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