Page 11 of Legacy

This girl is so fucking defiant.

Stubborn.

Mind-numbingly intriguing.

“Are you ready to head to the airport after this?” I stalk over to the island, taking a seat. “I have shit I need to get done today.”

“I can get to the airport myself.” She shakes her head, and even if her back is to me, I imagine she’s probably rolling her eyes again.

While the Twisted Kings patch on my cut is usually enough to keep people from challenging me, this girl is utterly unaffected.

“I’m sure you could. But then I feel like we’d just be circling back to that thing where I don’t believe you’d actually do it.” At least if I drop her off on the curb, I’ll know she’s gone.

Reagan spins around again. This time, her chin is tipped up, and the sunny warmth in her smile has faded. She crosses her arms across her chest, but all it does is push up her full tits.

It takes everything in me not to look at them.

After all, I’m not interested.

She’s hot, but I’ve spent plenty of time being surrounded by beautiful women.

Fixing my stare on hers, I grit my teeth as she purses her strawberry-pink lips.

“I get it, Jesse.” Her eyes narrow. “Your fragile ego is making you an asshole who refuses to ask for help. But I promised Margaret I would be here as long as she needs me, so I’m staying whether you like it or not.”

“It’s my house.”

“Then I’ll find a place in the city and drive out here every day.”

My jaw tenses because I don’t like that idea at all.

“Either way, I’m staying.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“So, youaren’tlooking for a nanny right now?” Her gaze darts to a notepad on the kitchen counter, where I’ve been narrowing down the list of applicants.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t looking. All I said wasyou’re not it.”

“Why?” Her eyebrows pinch. “Did I offend you by stepping foot inside your precious clubhouse? Or by showing up unexpectedly? Or is it just that you’re in a mood this morning? Because I’ve got the experience with kids, a spotless record, and my aunt already vouched for me.”

I open my mouth to snap back, but little footsteps running down the hall cut me off. It’s probably for the best because everything about Reagan is offensive, but none of it is actually her fault.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Bea bolts down the hallway and into my arms in one jump.

I kiss the top of her head, brushing her blonde hair off her face. “Morning, Honey Bea.”

“Did you see Reagan’s teaching me how to flip pancakes? She says the trick is to wait for the bubbles, so that’s what I did. But then I flipped it, and the gooey part got on the stove and all over my dress. Don’t worry, Daddy. Reagan cleaned it up, and I’ve got on my new dress.”

“Sparkly.”

Bea steps back to spin in a circle, sending the shimmery blue fabric flowing out around her. “Like a princess.”

“Because you are one, Honey Bea.”

She beams up at me with a smile. “We’re making breakfast. Are you hungry, Daddy?”

“I’m always hungry for whatever you’re cooking.”

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