Page 14 of Stick Move

No, none of it ever did.

Maybe it’s time to ditch the rules and have some fun of your own.

Yeah, maybe it’s damn well time I had some fun. The resort is going to be taken care of under new management, and for the first time in my life, for the next year, my only responsibility is caring for one child. I know this situation is about payback, and I accept that if it means saving the resort, but why can’t I take a break and use that time to figure out my future and find my place in a world where I’m not striving for love and affection from my only parent?

Oddly enough as that thought rattles around inside my brain, something inside me gives, softens, and I turn to glance at myself in the mirror, noting the way my shoulders are slowly shrinking away from my ears and dropping back into place.

With a new kind of determination about me, I march to my bedroom, and start opening and closing my drawers, searching for my bathing suit. It’s been so long since I’ve been in one—which is crazy considering I live by the ocean and the resort has two big pools—I’m not even sure where it is.

I finally find a two-piece with colorful butterflies on them. I pick it up, run the fabric through my fingers, and pause, the careful businesswoman in me jumping to the forefront. Is it appropriate for a nanny to wear a two-piece?

Wait, what was that I just said about rules?

I toss the bathing suit onto my bed and strip out of my dress. I hurry into my suit, and tie the straps around my neck. That’s when I catch my reflection in my bedroom mirror. Ugh. I’ve lost weight these last few months. With stress eating at my gut, I had zero appetite. Maybe cooking for Noah and his daughter will help me get back on track, and back to fitting in this bathing suit properly.

I angle my body, and there’s nothing flattering about the suit. Did you want it to be flattering, Brighton? No. No. No. I am not in a bikini trying to get Noah’s attention. Not only am I broke, I’ve pretty much lost all my curves. I’m hardly a catch and the man living in my childhood home is not interested in me.

I pull on a bathing suit wrap and head outside, stopping to take a big breath and smell the flowers as I walk by. Seagulls soar over the water as guests continue to play and as I head to the rooftop pool, delicious smells of barbecue on the beach reach my nose. This really is a magnificent resort and if selling it means keeping it running, then so be it.

I take the steps to the rooftop and lift my face to the sun to drink it in for a moment. As my body relaxes, I glance around and spot a few people lounging in chairs and a few in the pool. My heart warms as Noah tosses Camryn into the air and pretends not to catch her. She squeals in delight as I walk to the bar to get her a fruity drink and something a little stiffer for Noah and me.

Stiffer.

Ugh, don’t let your thoughts go there, girl.

I sit on the stool, and from behind the bar, Melanie—who is bartending as she slowly works on her master’s in psychology—places a coaster in front of me. She’s a couple of years older than me, having had a bit of a rough upbringing and now is working really hard to make something more of her life. I admire her so much. “Hey, Brighton. The usual?”

Laughter pulls my attention and I spin on my stool. My insides soar as Noah tosses his daughter in the air, and I find myself smiling. I really don’t remember the last time I actually smiled, and it wasn’t forced.

“Uh, Brighton?”

I spin and catch Melanie’s knowing grin. “What?” I ask. Warm and flustered inside, I wave my hand in front of my face. “Wow, it’s a hot one today.”

“Oh yeah? You sure it’s the sun making you hot.”

Crap.

“What else would be making me hot?” I ask and flick my hair from my shoulder, trying to appear professional. A hard task when I’m in my bathing suit, trying to get Noah’s attention. I mean—not trying to get Noah’s attention.

If you were wearing pants, Brighton, they’d be on fire.

Well, damn.

“For what it’s worth, he’s having the same effect on me and every other woman in his orbit. Look at them all out there. Whispering and staring and secretly taking pictures. Poor guy can’t get a break or even enjoy a moment with his daughter.”

“Yeah,” I murmur absentmindedly. He’s definitely not hurting for female companionship, although the few times I’ve seen him around, it’s only been him and his daughter. After the spread in the paper after Camryn was born and her mother ran off, not a whole lot more has been written about him. He either keeps his hook-ups quiet, or he isn’t hooking up. I’m not sure why the latter excites me. He’s not into me.

Isn’t that why you’re here in a bathing suit?

I fist my hands, working to shut down that inner voice, but I think she has a point. If I plan to have some fun, why can’t I have fun with Noah, other than the fact that he hates me and no doubt thinks I hate him. But I don’t hate him. I never have. It does give me some comfort to know he grew up to be a superstar, and the world now loves him.

“If I were you, I’d go for it,” Mel says.

“I’m not sure you heard, but I’m his nanny now.”

“Oh, really.” There’s a grin on her face she can’t seem to hide. “Does that mean you get to spank him when he’s naughty.”

I stare at her, my mouth agape as that image jumps into my brain. Her grin widens, and a second later, a laugh bubbles out of my throat. “I mean I’m his daughter’s nanny. I’ll be taking care of her.”

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