Page 118 of The Nanny Goal

Of course I know that when the playoffs are over, she’s leaving us. She needs to follow her dreams, and I’m not an asshole. I won’t stop her from going to Switzerland—wouldn’t even if I could, but I know I can’t.

But I can give her all the reasons in the world to come back to me when she’s done.

And I can set a standard so fucking high, no Swiss dick will ever compare.

CHAPTER38

EMERY

It’s so, so hard to pretend I’m not affected by Alexei as much as I am. There might be a language barrier between his mother and me, but her gaze is knowing.

I feel utterly transparent.

When we’re together, everything fades away, replaced by this wild, fizzy wonder. Like champagne bubbling up inside me. Joyful. Light. Dangerous in its own way. Like celebration trapped under skin, aching to be released.

The sandwiches and cookies were a distraction device. I have filled my week with them: childcare research, big cooking projects, extra-hard workouts, and so many trips to the park.

Anything to pretend that I’m just a temporary nanny. A helping friend.

Not…more.

But then he came home and wrapped himself around me, literally and figuratively, and it turns out, even sandwiches and cookies don’t lie about what we are to each other.

I need to talk to him as soon as they get back from the park.

Right on cue, the front door opens.

Unfortunately, the first thing I hear is the screaming protest of an unhappy two-year-old.

“Emmy,” Inessa sobs in the foyer.

Alexei’s sigh is so audible, it carries all the way into the kitchen.

I exchange a nervous look with Maria.

“Go,” she says, smiling, her eyes twinkling like she’s happy it’s no longer a plaintiveBabacry all the time. “I’m going downstairs now. Time to rest.”

My heart squeezes as I pop my head into the hallway. “What’s up, baby girl?”

She wrenches out of her little pink coat and falls down.

Alexei tips his face up to the ceiling and counts backwards.

“Frustrating walk back from the park?” I whisper, touching his arm for a second before I crouch down next to Inessa.

“You could say that,” he growls. “She wanted to take big steps all on her own. But her legs literally aren’t as long as mine.”

I swallow a laugh.

Then I touch Inessa’s hand and whisper, “Was it hard to take big steps?”

She climbs to her feet and throws herself at me, nodding.

I pat her back. “Did you try shrinking the world?”

Both father and daughter look at me in confusion.

I keep a straight face, and keep whispering. “You’re a giant girl.”

---