Page 8 of Filthy Rich Single Daddies

As I watch her leave, the thought of dragging her back inside flashes through my mind. I just want to see if she tastes as good as she looks. But then, I shove the thought aside—she's not mine to take.

Stop thinking about this woman naked, Austin. Nothing good can come of it.

As I settle the kids in the living room with a movie, I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into moving next door to this woman. And Skylar Deveraux is a complication I definitely don't need right now.

Hours later the front door slams, jerking me out of my thoughts. Cohen storms in, his face a thundercloud, with Theo close behind looking happy as a clam. But then, Theo always looks like that.

"What the hell, Austin?" Cohen’s voice booms through the house, sounding every bit like the older brother who thinks I’m a walking disaster. "Why didn’t you call me earlier?"

I hold up a hand, trying to rein in the situation. Cohen’s temper has always been hot, and right now, it’s spitting sparks. "Keep your voice down, Cohen," I hiss, nodding toward the living room where the kids are playing. "They’ve had a rough day."

Cohen’s jaw tightens, but he lowers his voice, though the edge is still there. "Elodie’s okay though, right? And who the hell is this woman you let watch them?"

I can see why he’s upset. The idea of a stranger being in charge of the kids, especially after everything that’s happened, must be a shock. But it doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to backpedal. My head is already pounding, and the last thing I need is Cohen jumping down my throat right now.

"Elodie’s fine," I snap, not bothering to soften my tone. "They’re both fine."

“You’re sure?”“I’m positive, Cohen. And I didn’tlether watch the kids. She stepped in when she heard what was going on and stayed when the nanny stormed off. Miss Deveraux is our neighbor—one of them, anyway. I think she lives in the carriage house next door.”

Cohen’s eyes flash with disbelief, and I can almost see the gears grinding in his mind as he processes this new information. "A complete stranger?” His voice rises again, the outrage still clawing at him, before he forces himself to calm down. "A complete stranger was watching our kids?"

I fight the frustration rising inside me, but keep my cool. This conversation is already edging too close to what I don’t want to talk about: the mess we’re all in. “She was also Lucas’s teacher this year. While not ideal, she’s not exactly a stranger.”

Cohen runs a hand through his hair, his temper flaring in a way I haven’t seen in a while. His eyes darken, and I know we’re not going to get through this without some friction. "You could’ve called me. I would’ve dropped everything and come home. Why didn’t you just let me know earlier?"

Theo steps in, his hand resting gently on Cohen’s shoulder, trying to calm the storm. "Let him explain, man," he says quietly, his voice that soothing tone he always uses when he wantsto defuse tension. It’s usually effective, but Cohen’s not in the mood to listen or be calm right now.

I nod, feeling the weight of his words. The truth is, I should’ve called. I know I should have. But everything’s been a mess since our divorces. It’s why we’re here in the first place, living like some kind of family co-op. The condo was too big for just me and Lucas, even if Djinn takes up enough space for three humans. And honestly, I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone with all that space, of hearing the silence in the rooms that were once filled with the noise of a life that’s no longer mine.

Even if Brielle never really felt like mine. Even if she was just an obligation.

Cohen was in the same situation. After his wife up and left to "find herself" with her yoga instructor, it was just him and Elodie. Unlike me, who knew deep down what I was getting into with Brielle, Cohen was devastated when Chelsea left. It’s something we don’t talk about much, but we both know how the other feels—alone, frustrated, exhausted.

And, Theo, well, we haven't really done much without him since college. He’s as much a part of this family as anyone. It wasn’t even a question that he should move in with us, too. I know I could rely on him for anything, and lately, that’s been more than a little reassuring.

I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my own temper in check. The last thing I need right now is to let Cohen get under my skin. "Look, I should’ve called. I know that. But I was thinking about keeping our children safe and cared for while I figured out what to do next."

I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I know it's not ideal. But Miss Deveraux handled the situation well. She’s used to being in charge of many kids at a time. The kids are safe, and that's what matters."

Cohen runs a hand through his hair again, a habit he's had since we were kids. I know this is his way of trying to think through things when he’s feeling cornered. "Fine. But we need a new nanny, stat. Can't the agency send someone else?"

I shake my head, feeling the weight of every decision that’s been made up until now. "Yeah. But I don’t trust the agency anymore. After today, I’m done with them.”

"Then what’s the plan?" Cohen demands, his frustration boiling over once again. I can hear the panic rising beneath his words.

I look between my brother and Theo, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I should have made a plan before now, but the fact is, I’ve been too distracted by everything else. "I don't know yet. But we’ll figure it out. Together."

As if on cue, the patter of little feet echoes down the hallway. Elodie bursts into the room, her curls bouncing, with Lucas hot on her heels. Their faces are flushed with excitement, and I can't help but smile despite the tension in the air. The sight of them always lightens my mood, even when everything else feels like it's falling apart.

"Daddy!" Elodie squeals, launching herself into Cohen's arms. He catches her effortlessly, his earlier anger melting away as he peppers her face with kisses.

I scoop Lucas up, relishing the warmth of his little body against mine. I know he’ll start to protest about the affection soon. He’s eight and growing every day, but for now, I hold him tight. It’s moments like this that remind me of why I keep pushing through, despite the mess we’re all in.

Elodie wiggles out of Cohen's grasp, her eyes sparkling. "Daddy, Uncle Austin, can Miss Skylar come back tomorrow? She's so much fun!"

I exchange a glance with Cohen before answering. I don’t want to disappoint the kids, but I also know that’s not realistic. "Well,sweetheart, Miss Deveraux surely has other things to do besides look after you two rascals all day."

"But we like her! She’s my favorite teacher," Lucas chimes in, his lower lip jutting out in a pout that's eerily similar to my own.

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