Page 16 of Forbidden Hearts

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ASHER

Itoss on my basketball shorts and run the towel through my damp hair. Today was a weird day. It started going down one path where I thought I might actually have to fire Phoebe and then shifted to my realizing that she’s not the same girl she was six years ago. She took responsibility for her mistake and owned her error. That never would’ve happened before.

There was something about the way she looked at me standing in my kitchen with her big, pouty brown eyes with thick lashes framing them, that made me forget she was the nanny and my boss’s daughter and not one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. For just one second.

I open my door, heading to the kitchen for something to eat, but I stop and look around, trying to figure out what is making that noise.

Seriously, what the hell is that sound? A cat dying? No, cats don’t say words or try to sing them.

I walk into the hallway, and it’s much louder, which means I won’t find an animal being tormented. I’m going to find the woman who is attempting to torture my eardrums. Right now, I envy Liv being deaf because . . . this is horrible.

I start to walk away, needing to find earplugs, when I hear, “No more! Help!”

Moving quickly, I push open her door, expecting to find her hurt or someone in the house. Instead, Phoebe is in shorts and half a shirt that’s tight to her body, singing and dancing around the room without a care in the world.

Jesus Christ. My earlier thoughts about her are smack dab in my face. She is beautiful. No, she’s more than that—she looks free and happy. Something about how she stands with her mouth open, letting out the worst sounds ever while completely unconcerned about how off-key she is, has my heart racing. Her eyes are closed, her head is back, and she’s just letting it out. Earlier, her hair was in a bun, and she was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Now that I knowthisis what is hiding under her clothes . . . I’m so fucked.

She’s your boss’s daughter. She’s your-much-too-young-for-you boss’s daughter. Again, she’s younger than your sister. She’s also your daughter’s nanny. And she’s a pain in the ass. Sunshine, my ass.

No, I do not see how perfect her ass looks in those shorts. And those curves, when the hell did she get those? It doesn’t matter that she looks adorable dancing around and singing into her fake microphone.

All that matters is that she’s my daughter’s nanny, and the only person in the freaking county who knows ASL and will watch her. Also, she’s my boss’s damn daughter.

I tell myself this, but my dick doesn’t seem to care.

Time to leave. I go to close her door to get away from the trainwreck that is Phoebe Bettencourt, but she gasps.

“Asher! What are you doing?” she wails and grabs her shirt.

I go to speak, but at the same time, her earbud pops out, she somehow manages to swat it into the air, and she attempts to catch it. As she does, her top rises, revealing her breasts. I am not sure what to do, so I start to go toward her, but she’s too busy scrambling for the earbud while also trying to cover herself and ends up tripping on the area rug and falling on her ass.

“Pleasetell me you didn’t see anything.”

I lie. “I didn’t see anything.”

She’s on the floor, trying to pull her top into the right angle as her hips move side to side. “Ugh! You saw it all!” She groans as she finally gets herself covered. “Seriously, can I just stay here until I don’t want to fall through the floor anymore? It might beforever.”

I try not to laugh—I really do—but . . . it was probably the most hilarious thing I’ve seen in a while.

“Let me help you . . .” I step toward her, but she raises her hand.

“Don’t!” she warns as she glares at me from the floor.

“Are you okay? It looked like that hurt.” I approach her, palm outstretched.

She swats at it. “Don’t try to help menow. You saw my boobs, you big jerk!”

“How am I a jerk?”

“You laughed.”

“You would’ve too from my vantage point.”

She huffs, pushing herself up. “Why don’t you recreate it, and we’ll see if I laugh.”

I grin. “I’m good. I wouldn’t want to hurt myself. What the hell made you fall?”And maybe we can have it happen again so I can see more clearly this time.

Nope. No, do not even think it.