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"No, that's fine. I always make our dinner."

I had no idea why, but the thought of that made me swoon. I could imagine this guy in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up.

"Okay, then, I think that’s everything, right?" I asked.

"Whatwouldyou do with my daughter?" he said abruptly.

"Well, first I'd get to know her a bit and see what she likes to do in her free time and find out if she enjoys books, or going out in nature, or staying indoors. Every child is different. I haven't had the chance to focus on just one until now. But I'd love to." My words faded as the patter of feet reverberated from the spiral staircase to our left. I instinctively looked in that direction, noticing a lively nine-year-old girl descending them in a rush.

"Daddy, can I go in the backyard?" she exclaimed, her dark brown hair floating around her. She was wearing pink cotton pajamas with nothing on her feet. She skidded to a stop when she saw me, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't know you were with someone."

"Hey, Paisley," he said.

Oh my God. I felt it in his voice that he was smiling.

When I turned to look at him, my heart went into overdrive. He was completely transformed. His face lit up completely. His eyes weren't intense now. They were happy.

Yeah, broody Tate was hot, but smiling, happy Tate was drop-dead gorgeous.

Paisley ran up to the TV console, and though it took me a second to realize it, he was playfully trying to block her way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He grabbed her around the middle, tickling her little tummy.

Good God, this is too much for my hormones.

“Getting chocolate, Daddy." Her innocent green eyes looked pleadingly at her father. The whole scene was adorable.

He looked at the console over his shoulder. "You're stealing chocolate every morning?"

"I am not stealing it. I'm eating it. You never told me I’m not allowed to eat chocolate in the morning when you aren’t looking."

“No, I wasn’t that specific. My bad.”

He burst out laughing. I couldn't help but smile big. Paisley was one lucky little girl.

Tate looked at me directly, and my stomach somersaulted. "Lexi, this is Paisley. Paisley, this is Lexi. I'm interviewing her to be your new nanny."

He released his daughter, and as Paisley straightened up, she looked at me curiously. "You're pretty," she said.

"Why, thank you," I replied.

She looked at my braided hair longingly. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

"Sure. I could braid it right now if you want to. Do you have a mirror here?"

"Yes." She pointed to the wall opposite the TV console. There was a mirror in the corner I hadn't noticed. I looked at Tate questioningly, and he nodded.

Taking Paisley's hand, I brought her to the floor-length mirror. "Okay, let's do it sideways. This way, so you can see what I'm doing." Her hair was silky and already brushed perfectly, so it was easy to braid it.

"Dad, can you record it on your phone? That way I’ll know how to do it later."

"Sure," he said, coming up right next to us. This was the closest we'd been since he walked me inside the house. I couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath. My fingers trembled a little, and I lost my focus for a few seconds. His body radiated heat and masculinity. Just being inches away from him was messing with my senses.

"There, you're done," I said a few minutes later.

Paisley looked at her braid in the mirror, smiling broadly.

"I love it. Daddy, when are we having breakfast?"