Page 24 of Knot Just Their Nanny
“Awesome.”
He shakes his head and leaves me to it as I barge into the bedroom furthest from mine.
Taking it all in, I decide I can work with this.
I fling open windows for ventilation and search through the wardrobe for a duvet and pillows, which I find still wrapped in plastic. I unwrap them and shake them out, before searching through the linen cupboard at the end of the landing. Grabbing some spare covers, I quickly make up the bed and grabbing the duster and polish from the kitchen, I give the room a bit of a tidy.
Checking in on Mia, who is still sleeping, bless her little socks, I move onto the bathroom door lock situation. It’s one of those simple internal locks, but it’s completely jammed. Right, YouTube tutorial it is. I fetch Benjamin’s toolbox from under the stairs. The man’s got every tool under the sun but doesn’t seem to have used any of them––and settle down with my phone for a quick crash course in basic DIY.
Armed with a modicum of newly acquired confidence and a screwdriver, I set to work on the lock mechanism. Half an hour later, after some muttered curses with my wrists aching, there’s a click that sounds like victory. The lock turns smoothly in its casing when I test it.
“Ha!” I punch the air in triumph, my voice echoing, and then I clap my hand over my mouth, hoping I didn’t wake Mia.
I check on her immediately, creeping into her room with the softness of a cat burglar. She’s still fast asleep. I feel my chest swell with love for the little girl.
Once I’m sure she’s okay, it’s back to my list. I tiptoe out, closing the door gently behind me and head downstairs to tackle the next job on my list. God, there’s so much to do, but now that the bathroom lock is fixed, I feel like bloody Superwoman! Not all heroes wear capes and there’s no cheering crowd. What a fucking let down.
I start pottering around in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast, wondering how I’m going to approach this whole ‘Liam moving in’ situation. A part of me is ready to take control of this whole fiasco, but another side––the side that blushes when he looks at me––is slightly panicked at the thought of sharing a living space with him.
I didn’t get a chance to ask if I’m supposed to cook for him or leave him to his own devices. That doesn’t feel right to me. It’s in my contract that I make food for Benjamin. I’m happy with that, especially as it means one meal at a time, which I can then clean up after. If Liam saunters in with a different schedule, it’s going to throw me right off kilter.
I decide to text Benjamin because, let’s face it, I can’t just stand around like a lemon, not knowing what the heck is going on. My thumbs fly across the screen with a rapid-fire message before I can second-guess myself.
Benjamin. Am I cooking for Liam, or what? I need details. Zara.
Sent.
The kettle whistles its shrill tune, and I jump, snapping my focus back to the here and now. Tea, that’s what I need—a nice cuppa to steady the nerves.
As the tea steeps, Benjamin’s reply pings through.
Whatever. Don’t go out of your way.
Well, that’s frustratingly vague. I take a sip of my tea, letting the warmth settle me.
My phone pings again. It’s from Liam.
Feed me all the things.
Growling at the winky face, I inhale deeply. “Asshole,” I murmur, but the smile tugging at my lips is hard to squash.
I’ve gone into panic mode because I’m nervous about being so close to an alpha who makes my omega purr inwardly. Butnow that I think about it, it will make getting to know him easier without having to sneak around. Maybe this is fate knocking.
I guess we’ll find out.
Chapter 14
Benjamin
Taking off my suit jacket, I sling it on the small, rickety wooden chair in the gents as I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, and I’m pale and sweating. Loosening my tie, I roll up the sleeves of my crisp white shirt, not even wanting to think that Nicole ironed it months ago before she left, and it’s been sitting in the wardrobe ever since. Running the cold tap, I shove my wrists under the torrent and try to regulate my breathing. My mating bite is throbbing, red and angry. Cupping a cold hand over the bite, I hiss but then breathe out a sigh of relief. The rut is getting close. Mere weeks away, and I hadn’t even given it a single thought since Nicole left. What was the point? But the mating bite is protesting not only the rejection, but what in the hell I’m going to do to ease my need for a knot when the time comes.
A sex doll?
I mean, I’ve heard alphas do this, and there are toys that omegas use to ease their heat—massive dildos with bulging knots at the base—so why not a slicked-up sex doll for a rejected alpha to get his knot wet?
“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter and return my hand to the water, still gushing out of the tap.
The door opens, and Liam strides in, giving me the side-eye. “You all right, mate?”
