Page 42 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Vol. 3

Paisley

L oveme some Jake and the Neverland Pirates . I’ve seen this episode like three times, but I could watch it again. This is what happens when you hang around two-year-olds for too long. You start looking forward to kiddie shows the same way you would Game of Thrones . Normally, we’d be making Play-Doh or baking cookies or making drawings for Daddy, but this morning, Things 1 and 2 are out of sorts .

They’re not quite feverish, but they’re cranky and listless. It might’ve been the frolicking in the snow we did earlier this week. If so, then I feel bad for taking them out on such a cold February day even though they had so much fun. We all did .

I smile .

It was a great day, and I’m still thrilled that Logan got to come with us. But ever since he got that call from work, he’s worked overtime every day, rarely coming home early like he was starting to do. I guess that’s how it is in his line of work. If a project is due soon at L. R. Group, then the world gets put on hold .

“Noooo!” Becca pushes away my offer of water and snuggles closer to the pillow. Her thumb is in her mouth, which she only does when she’s sleepy. Weird, because she just slept for two hours straight .

I feel her forehead. She’s definitely warmer now than she was half an hour ago. Reaching across the couch, I feel Price’s arm. Also warm, and there’s a slight flush to his cheeks. Their eyes are also glazed as they watch Jake on TV and outside, the snow falls in swirling drafts of confetti. Covering them both with a big chenille blanket, I head for the kitchen to prepare some soup. Maybe I can feed them while they’re hypnotized with Jake and the pirates .

I really hate to bother Logan at work, but I think he’d want to know that the kids are coming down with something. Especially since they’re scheduled to go home with Miriam this evening. He might not want them to go outside while they’re sick. I don’t know how Miriam would take to them staying an extra, unscheduled night at Logan’s place. Though it would be the best course of action for them, Miriam’s not exactly about best course of action for the kids .

I decide I’ll text him a photo of the twins just to inform him that they’re feeling a little under the weather. He doesn’t need to call or go out of his way to worry. I got this. When I come back with soup, the kids are asleep again less than an hour after they’ve awoken from their naps .

I take a pic of the sleeping angels and text them to Logan with the words: The babies are feeling poopy . No less than a minute after describing them as poopy, Becca twists and turns in her sleep, winces in pain, then finally wakes up in tears. From the sour change in the air, I realize she’s gotten sick in her pull-ups .

Ugh, must be a stomach virus. This could be bad. Especially if they’ve both got it .

“Shh, little one, it’s okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I lay her flat on her back while she cries, waking up her brother, and get her changed. She still refuses the cup of water and clings to my shoulder when she’s dressed again .

Unfortunately, Price begins having the same issue and I have to change him as well .

“Wow, you guys really are twins,” I mutter, changing him into a fresh, clean pull-up. I think of my mother dealing with my brothers when they were little, how she could’ve used a hand though she handled it herself. I could very well have twins as well. The fraternal kind, like Becca and Price, like my brothers, are a side effect of hyper-ovulation, when the ovaries release more than one egg per cycle, and it’s hereditary .

I think about a possible future. What if Logan and I continue this way? What if we become serious and stay together? What if I get pregnant with twins and then Becca and Price will have another set for siblings ?

I can’t let my brain go there. I don’t know what this is with Logan yet. I would like to think it’s love, but I’m not sure. It’s hard when he works so often and I’m mostly here just to do a nannying job. Logan’s text reply reads: Shit, what’s wrong? On my way .

I didn’t mean for him to leave work in the middle of a pivotal point of the project. I begin formulating a reply but suddenly, Becca needs changing again. I think I’m about to lose my mind. If I’m not changing, comforting, or leading one sick child to the bathroom, then I’m changing, comforting, or leading another. They both cling to me, crying, and my arms feel like they’re going to break off .

But I sit on the couch and hold them both. “It’s the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse…” I start to sing one of their favorite songs. “Come inside, it’s fun inside. It’s the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse…” Their cries turn to whimpers, but every time one twin begins to cry again, the other joins in .

It feels endless, but soon they’re falling away into a sleepy state again. Though my arms are killing me, I won’t lay them down. If I try, I know they’ll only wake up again and start crying. So I stick it out and keep singing. Once the show has ended, I press the remote button OFF with my toe and use my feet to close one of the light-colored curtains so the sunlight doesn’t bother them .

“I came over right when you texted.” Logan appears in the doorway. I didn’t even hear him come in. He always looks so incredibly handsome coming home from work. Every time I see him dressed in nice pants and buttoned shirt, his expensive, stylish watch, and his hair all perfectly in place, I get a knot in my stomach .

Immediately, I give him the universal sign for “Shhh…” with pursed lips and wide “don’t you dare” eyes .

He plucks Becca off my shoulder and flips her around to settle onto her father’s massive, tree-trunk torso. Something inside of me thaws. There’s nothing sexier than seeing a man taking care of his children, and the fact that he left work just to be with them has propelled him to superstar fatherdom .

“They definitely have a stomach virus,” I tell him, settling next to him, sighing. Just having him here is a relief, even though I could’ve handled it on my own. “Do you want me to take them to the doctor ?”

“Let’s wait a bit. If they’re still sick tomorrow morning, then we’ll take them .”

I appreciate his easygoing manner. So many parents are quick to take their kids to the doctor, especially rich parents with nannies. It’s like they’ve never heard of fevers being a normal part of the immune system before .

As we sit in silence, our hands nearest each other creep across the seat and link. His fingers feel strong and secure. I give him an appreciative smile. The kids sleep on our shoulders for over an hour, and my skin burns just having them stuck to me, sweating it out. I’m touched by his dedication. He should be working on the final leg of the project, not helping me at home .

The next day, he’s home again to help, telecommuting, fielding phone calls and joining into Skype meetings, all the while holding his kids and making sure they stay hydrated. He accompanies me to the doctor late in the day, and sure enough, a stomach virus is the diagnosis. Lots of fluids and keep them cool .

Check and check .

We work as a team to battle the Virus Monster. By the third day, little smiles begin to appear again, but this time, I’m the one not feeling well. When I can barely get out of bed the next day, Logan sits on the edge of my bed and tells me to stay there. He will take care of everything. Soon, hot soup is coming to my room, cold drinks, and warm blankets for my feet. Movies come on to keep me company, since I insist he stay away from me or else he’ll end up with it, too .

He doesn’t have to be here .

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