Page 6 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Cowboy

"I understand," I say quietly.

He nods once, then leaves, pulling the door closed behind him.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted. What have I gotten myself into? The agency had warned me that Vincent Covington was demanding, but they never mentioned how intimidating he would be in person, or how his dark eyes would seem to see right through me.

They also hadn't mentioned how adorable his daughter would be, or how the sight of this tough cowboy melting around her would make something twist in my chest.

I stand and move to the window, looking out over the sprawling ranch. In the distance, I can see horses grazing, mountains rising blue and majestic against the horizon. It's breathtakingly beautiful, a world away from the crowded, noisy life I left behind.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts, and I open the door to find Lily holding a neatly folded stack of clothes.

"Daddy said to bring you these," she says, offering them up. "They're Aunt Maggie's, but she won't mind. She's nice."

"Thank you," I say, taking the clothes. "That's very helpful."

Lily lingers in the doorway, twisting from side to side in the way children do when they're working up to saying something.

"Is there something else?" I ask gently.

She looks up at me with those big dark eyes. "Are you going to leave too? Like my mom did?"

The question knocks the wind out of me. I kneel down to her level, choosing my words carefully.

"Lily, I've been hired to be your nanny, and I take that job very seriously. I'm planning to stay as long as your dad wants me here."

She considers this, her small face serious. "My mom said she'd always be there too. But she left."

My heart breaks a little for this solemn child.

"I can't make promises about forever," I tell her honestly. "But I can promise that I won't just disappear. And I'll always tell you the truth."

She studies me with a gaze so like her father's—assessing, careful, a little wary. Then she nods.

"Okay. Uncle Aaron says we should judge people by what they do, not what they say. So I'll watch you."

I can't help but smile at the directness. "That seems fair."

"You should take a shower," she advises, wrinkling her nose. "You're all stinky from walking."

I laugh, not offended in the slightest by her honesty. "I think you're right. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

She nods and turns to go, then pauses. "I'm happy you walked all that way. It means you really wanted to come."

Before I can respond, she's gone, her footsteps pattering down the hallway.

I close the door and lean against it, clutching the borrowed clothes to my chest. That little girl has already worked her way under my skin, and I've known her for less than an hour.

As for her father... Vincent Covington is clearly not a man who trusts easily. His walls are high and thick, built to protect both himself and his daughter. I don't blame him. From what I understand, he's had his heart broken not just by his wife's departure, but by watching his daughter's heart break too.

I move to the bathroom, catching sight of myself in the mirror and wincing. No wonder he looked at me like I was somethingthe cat dragged in. My carefully applied makeup has melted into dark smudges under my eyes, my hair is a frizzy disaster, and my dress—well, it's seen better days.

But underneath the disheveled exterior, I feel a surge of determination. I might have started this job on the wrong foot, but I'm going to prove to Vincent Covington that I'm not just another person passing through his daughter's life.

I've walked three miles in the scorching heat to get here. And metaphorically speaking, I'm prepared to walk a hundred more if that's what it takes to earn their trust.

Chapter 3 - Vincent

I never knew my aunt's old clothes could look like that on anyone. But here's Charlotte Wilson, emerging from her room looking like she just stepped off a magazine cover instead of out of a three-mile hike in the summer heat.

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