Page 3 of Sinful Nanny

“How do you like it?”

My heart bangs in my chest.

“One sugar and milk.”

“Strong?”

“How it comes.”

Silence ripples around the room as he strains the teabag and then walks across towards where I am sitting and handing me my tea.

“Thank you.” Why am I blushing?

“I just thought it might be worth us having a little chat before Delilah comes back.”

I nod. “She is a very sweet soul,” he drops his head and I see a hint of a smile play against his lips.

“I bet she is,” my voice is low.

His eyes meet mine for a moment, and that’s when I notice his eyes are more opal, shades of green blurring into the soft blue. They’re real pretty.

“Please don’t be offended if she goes mute when she sees you, it takes her a while to warm up.”

“I wouldn’t, I completely understand,” I take a mouthful of my tea.

“Also,” he rubs his lips together, “she has a thing about placing her hand on your cheek, it can last seconds, it can last minutes… butwhenshe is comfortable, she’ll do it,” he laughs gently.

“That’s really sweet,” I smile at him and he returns it.

“Her dinner is at four-forty-five…” he pauses for a moment and furrows his brows, “you can cook right?”

“Yes, I can cook,” I shake my head from side to side.

“Sorry, I just assumed… you’re just very young…”

“I’m twenty-three,” another laugh bubbles from me, “I’m hardly young.”

“Compared to me, you’re young and I couldn’t cook at your age,” he shrugs one shoulder up and sighs.

“My mum passed when I was young, I didn’t know my dad…” I have no idea why I am sharing this. “I lived with my grandma, she taught me from a young age how to cook. I make everything from scratch; of course, here and there I like the odd takeaway or a lazy dinner,” I drop my head, “but it’s all I have left of her so I like to cook her recipes when I can.”

Silence coats the room for a moment.

“I bet Travis enjoys that,” and I sigh, lifting my head before tilting it to the side.

“When he is home,” the smile that was living on my lips slowly starts to fade. “He works a lot of late nights…” I trail off, “you keep him busy.”

“Right, yes,” he clenches his jaw as he takes a mouthful of his own tea, and uneasiness settles in my stomach. “She has playtime between five-thirty and six and then it’s bath, teeth, story and bed for seven. Is that going to be okay?”

“Absolutely, I’ll only be going home to an empty house,” I admit, and sadness fills me.

“There will be some nights I require stay overs, but I will tell you in advance,” he pushes off his stool and I mirror him as he glances up at the clock.

“Sounds great,” I am a little too enthusiastic.

He takes my cup and places it on the side before standing toe to toe with me.

My head is tilted back as I look up at him, his neck craned looking down at me.

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