Page 31 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar
You stupid fuck!
Okay, she snuck away. I didn’t let her do anything.
Pain hits me in the chest.
Because that woman came into my life like a hurricane and turned everything upside down, then she slinked out like a damn ninja with curves.
And it hurts.
Way more than I want to admit.
First thing I do?
I fire off a very heated email to Uncle Uzzi—if that’s even his real name.
Meddling, moon-dusted Witch with a chaotic sense of humor and a magical app that clearly works too well.
Grrr.
Subject: WE NEED TO TALK
Body: You ruined my life.
Okay, not really. But also? Really.
Then reality sucker punches me in the throat.
Alex.
My son is coming home today.
Swim lessons start tomorrow, and I can’t exactly tell his instructor I missed check-in because I was moping over a vanishing goddess with killer hips and a mouth that haunts my soul.
No. Life doesn’t stop.
Not for single dads.
Not for small business owners.
Not for guys trying not to lose their minds over a one-night-stand-that-definitely-wasn’t-just-a-one-night-stand.
I scroll through my inbox while shoving my legs into yesterday’s jeans, still hoping the app’s just glitched.
Dozens of emails from folks I met at the Supernatural Summit flood my screen—offers, questions, contracts.
It’s great. Amazing even.
But I don’t feel amazing.
I feel hollow.
And then I see it.
Like a little boon from the gods who just royally fucked me.
A reply to my nanny ad.
Just one.
