Page 26 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“Yippee!”

She really does make a mean sandwich. I take a big bite, and she tuts at me. After a glass of water, I say, “Have I done something to disappoint madam?”

“Youmunch munch munchlike this.” She imitates me, making us both laugh like crazy. I almost pinch myself. There’s no way I’m being paid for this, is there?

Afterward, Emery asks me if she can read, and I say yes. We sit here for close to thirty minutes, both of us focused on our books.At least, that’s what an observer would see. But my thoughts won’t stop straying to last night. No matter how much I think about it, I can’t figure out who kissed who. It was more like a magnetic force was pulling us together, something neither of us could control.

In the space between touching myself and fighting the urge, I kept imagining Gray coming over to the guesthouse. He would tear the sheets back and stand over me, shirtless, the moonlight bouncing off the hard ridges of his abs.“You can’t seriously think I’d be satisfied just with a kiss. I need more. I need all of you, Callie. I need to kiss every inch of you. You’ll never bejustmy nanny.”

I’m jolted from my thoughts by Emery’s voice. “Muh-Mommy?” She sounds unsure, slightly hopeful, and a little bit terrified.

I look up. A tall, glamorous woman is walking toward us. She wears tight leather leggings and a gold-colored shirt with a glitter effect. Her hair is dyed blonde and styled in a bob with statement-making bangs. She looks like a model.

“Emery?” the woman says, standing over the picnic blanket. “Oh, darling, you’re so big.”

“Are you my mommy?” Emery says, sounding on the verge of tears.

Crap. This is bad. I’ve got no way of knowing if this is really Emery’s mother—especially if Emery herself doesn’t recognize her—and even if she is, I have to play this right. I haven’t even asked Gray what visitation rights she has, what access, or any of that.

“You can’t see that?” Sloane says, her lip curling slightly. “Look at me, silly, sweet girl. We’re basically twins!”

It’s true. They do look alike.

“I’m in Maplebrook researching a book project,” Sloane goes on, not leaning down to talk to her daughter, instead standing over her with an air of distance. “I was going to reach out to your father about visiting you, of course. I didn’t expect to see you here. It seems fate has thrown us together, hmm?” She turns to me. “Andyouare?”

“Callie,” I tell her, rising to my feet and offering my hand. “I’m the nanny.”

“Charmed,” she says, taking my hand, or rather, two of my fingers, and shaking for the shortest time possible. Then she turns back to Emery. “Aren’t you going to give Mommy a hug?”

Emery breaks my heart when she hides behind me, peeking her head around my hip. “Uh, uh,” she murmurs.

I smile tightly at Sloane. “It might be better to go with your original plan,” I murmur. “Reach out to Gray…”

Her lip curls, her eyes full of disdain. She looks between her daughter and me as if trying to comprehend how Emery could choose me over her. That’s how she’s taking this, I realize. I canseeit. She’s viewing it as a snub as if I planned this just to offend her.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Why are you telling me how to handle matters with my own daughter?”

When Emery starts to cry, Sloane actuallyrolls her eyes. It’s enough to make me want to slap her across the face. It’s not my place to pass judgment, but that eye roll has my mind full of vicious ideas. She has no right to dismiss her daughter’s feelings when she’s essentially a stranger to her.

I pick Emery up, rocking her softly. “Sloane,” I say in a reasonable voice. At least, I hope it is. “I understand this is a difficult situation, but as Emery’s nanny, it’s my job to put her wellbeing first. I can’t get involved in the parenting or guardianship situation. I would suggest that your first instinct was right—reach out to Gray…”

She ignores me, leaning forward to touch Emery. Time seems to slow. What the heck do I do? Do I have the right to stop a mother from touching her daughter? But I can’t risk upsetting Emery any further. She’s crying in a way I couldn’t have imagined just a few minutes ago, her face pressed against my chest. I turn slightly, shielding Emery.

“Who do you think you are?” Sloane hisses, which makes Emery’s cry even harder.

“Please,” I say. “Do what’s best for your daughter.”

“Are you calling me a bad mother?” she snaps.

Yes.“No. I just don’t want to stress Emery more than she already is.”

“I’ll talk to Daddy, okay, Emery? I’ll see you soon,” Sloan says in a sugary, sweet voice.

Sloane gives me a vicious look, then spins and walks across the park. I keep gently rocking Emery. Once she’s stopped crying, I say, “Should I make us some sandwiches now?”

She looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Can we go home, please?”

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