Page 41 of The Secret

“Maybe.” She peered down at the crossword, her fingers moving over the boxes. “Cosecant.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Just to be clear, I hadn’t got to that one yet, but I knew the answer.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Her eyes flared in amusement, sparkling brighter than any diamond. My grip on the paper squeezed tighter to stop myself from grabbing her face and kissing her until neither of us could stand. “I’ll take Bell for her bath now. If you need more help with that, you know where we’ll be.”

I’d managed to not kiss her, but I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her ass as she walked off.

She wasn’t simply the sexiest nanny I’d ever seen, she was the sexiest woman I’d ever known or laid eyes on. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was funny, striking, and fucking smart. Maybe even smarter than me.

The whole goddamn package.

Thirteen weeks and three days to go. It was only a matter of time. It may as well have been the Doomsday Clock, because my crush was growing to an earth-destroying meteor size.

And it was anyone’s guess if I’d even survive that long.

8

Kit

Ibent down nearer the kitchen counter and slurped my coffee, which I’d filled to the brim. Again. It was one of life’s mysteries how I was so incapable of judging the volume of liquid in a mug, but there we go. I had other strengths like never being late, baking, the ability to get up without hittingsnooze, and managing to keep a plant alive longer than a month. One of those ones that didn’t need water, but I was still taking that as an achievement.

I put a cup under the machine for Murray, unloading the dishwasher while I waited, and placed all of Bell’s bottles in the sterilizer.

“Murray!” I yelled seconds before he appeared in the kitchen, Bell in his arms, his eyebrow raised.

“Yes?”

I laughed, picking up my coffee and finishing it. “Sorry, I thought it would save time over searching all the rooms for you.

“All the rooms?”

“Yes, all the rooms.”

He pulled the stool out at the counter and sat down. “There aren’t that many rooms.”

“There are enough that warranted me shouting when I’m stretched for time,” I shot back with a smirk, placing his mug in front of him. “Here you go.”

It had been gradual over the past month or so, but we’d got to a place where we were comfortable with each other, united by a common and very cute goal. Also helped, in no small part, by the fact that we were the only two people in the apartment who could speak in coherent sentences, aside from the housekeeper who came a couple of times a week. We weren’t exactly best friends, but we were miles away from the first week I’d arrived when he did everything he could to avoid being in my presence.

It was easy, almost.

What wasn’t easy was the only, yet wildly glaring issue I had with this development - the effort I had to make on a minute-by-minute basis to push my crush down as deep into a trench as I could possibly get it, something that was becoming harder by the day, especially when he walked around in… well, anything really.

There was the sweatpants and t-shirts Murray.

There was pajamas and hoodie in the morning Murray.

Then shorts and hoodie in the evening Murray.

Murray at the weekend in jeans and a sweater.

Murray after the gym. Or after basketball with the guys; sweaty, raw, and smelling like a locker room; like pure testosterone which had me clenching hard the moment it wafted through the air.

Then,then,one day last week, he’d had a meeting, and he’d walked into the kitchen in a suit. A custom fitted, Italian merino wool bespoke suit in deepest Prussian Blue, and my mouth dried up on the spot.

He was a life size Ken doll, except better. Each one different, each one exceptional.

“Bye, cutie. See you later.” I kissed Bell on the cheek, trying not to look Murray in the eyes, or breathe him in while I was so close. “Have fun with Daddy.”

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