Page 20 of The Love Syllabus

Nevertheless, he’s still the same asshole I can barely stand to be around. How the hell am I going to get through this day? How in the hell am I going to stop thinking about him? How the hell am Inotgoing to fall for this insufferable man?

Chapter 6

Blurring Lines – Vic

I’m losing my damn mind. I can’t stop lusting after the most addictively annoying woman I’ve ever met, who also happens to be a potential employee. This certainly wasn’t a part of my summer plans.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Why am I so drawn to her? Following my family’s advice, I put on my mostpseudocharming act at that insipid event, only to fall head over heels for a captivating townie. This is the price I pay for trying to have a bit of fun.

But damn. She’s beautiful. Quirky. Slightly goofy but clearly sharp. But she’s unpredictable. Yet, I’m drawn to her. Even when she’s driving me up the wall, she’s impossible to ignore.

And that’s exactly the problem.

I can’t afford a distraction, not when my daughters are involved. I’ve worked too hard to build a stable, structured life for them.

Mixing business with pleasure is a bad idea, and the last thing I want is to bring a woman into our lives only for my daughters to get attached to then eventually watch her leave our lives forever.

I need to suppress thiswant.I need to behave professionally. Most of all, I need my daughtersnotto like her. If they don’t click, I have the perfect excuse to send her packing, sparing myself the daily torment of having her so close yet off-limits. Problem solved. If they do like her, though, I’m in real trouble because I don’t think I could handle seeing her in my home every day and being unable to control my thoughts… and other things too.

I’m at my wit’s end, quietly agonizing over the prospect of Kerry becoming my daughters’ nanny. It’s a twisted kind of torture, wanting someone you shouldn’t even be thinking about in that way. She’s like a beautiful storm, stirring up everything in her path or my mind rather.

“Uh, Son? You okay, over there?” My mom’s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts.

I shake it off, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, Mom. And I apologize, Ms. Kind.”

Kerry’s lips twitch like she’s biting back a remark.

I clear my throat. “Actually, Mom, would you mind if I showed Ms. Kind around? I’d like to introduce her to the girls myself.”

I need to observe how she interacts with them. We can end this torture right now.

Mom smiles. “I think that’s a lovely idea, Vic.”

Yet, Kerry calls out my hypocrisy. “Didn’t you just tell me to leave you alone?”

I ignore her comment and take Kerry’s bag, where, for the briefest second, our hands brush.

Electricity.I freeze, just for a fraction of a moment, before recovering.

“Thank you, Mr. Grimes,” she says smoothly, her voice low. There’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing, and I swear she’s doing this on purpose.

How the hell am I supposed to maintain any semblance of professionalism with her standing here, looking like that, speaking like that, stirring up every damn feeling I haven’t felt in years?

I need to get a grip.

When Mom leaves the room to tend to a business matter, I lead Kerry towards the study, each step heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of my internal conflict and the undeniable attraction that I must, for my daughters’ sake, resist.

“So,” I start in a measured tone, trying to keep the tour professional. “Give it to me straight. Are you a teacher or a nanny? Didn’t know you could be both.”

She comes to a complete stop, commanding my attention. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know a dang on thing about nannying, but I’m a great teacher. And I promise to love your kids like my own.”

Her passionate assurance is convincingly reassuring. “I’ll hold you to that, Kerry,” I respond, appreciating her candor. “Considering your impressive teachingbackground, I’m confident you understand the value of a well-structured routine. You should have received an email detailing the girls’ weekly schedule, including Ari’s piano and voice lessons and Syd’s physical therapy sessions. Please ensure these are synced to your calendar. My staff will help keep things on track.”

We continue the tour, entering my massive kitchen. “This is where the girls will have their meals.”

Kerry’s demeanor is cool, almost as if our fiery exchanges never happened. “Do they have any specific dietary needs or food allergies I should be aware of?” She asks, her voice steady and focused.

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