Page 18 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
He’s right. These thoughts—these little moments of excitement—are beyond inappropriate. Connor is my boss, even if I’m just the nanny to his baby daughter. If I’m going to make it through this stay with both my dignity and my summer job intact, I’m going to have to find a way to quell these fantasies. And fast.
The room is pretty standard for any business-class hotel. Neutral-patterned carpeting, beige-paneled walls, a dark chestnut desk in the corner with a small minifridge wedged underneath it.
What stands out more than anything is the bed.
For the first time in my life, a king doesn’t look quite as massive as I remember. The plush white comforter and a pile of decorative pillows almost look like a challenge: Not as innocent as we seem, huh? As promised, a crib has been brought up and placed at the foot of the bed, leaving just enough room for Connor to squeeze by and set his stuff by the desk.
I stand awkwardly on the other side of the room where he left me, a sleepy Marley curled up against my chest. He avoids my eyes as he bustles around the room, making a few last-minute preparations before leaving for his meeting.
“She should be ready for a nap shortly after I leave,” he says absentmindedly, scrolling through his phone and abruptly stuffing it in his pocket. “I should be back late this afternoon. I figure we can order in, and then watch a movie or something?”
He still can’t meet my eyes when he says it, but I can’t help noticing how much that suggestion sounds like a date. Or it would if I weren’t here for the express purpose of babysitting his daughter.
“Sounds good to me. I’m easy.”
Connor seems to catch the double entendre before I do, pausing in midstride on his brisk walk out the door. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Can this situation get any more uncomfortable?
But he lets it go, turning to give me a curt nod before closing the door behind him. No matter how embarrassed I might have felt just moments ago, I’m already looking forward to his return.
My day of watching Marley goes by quickly. She goes down for her nap like a champ, and is sweet and happy when she wakes back up. We watch a little TV, I let her babble and feed her when she’s hungry, and before I know it, Connor’s texting me asking what I want for dinner.
We order delivery from a Mexican restaurant nearby, and turn on some made-for-TV movie that has us both crying with laughter because of how ridiculous the plot twists are. Sure, it’s not exactly how I imagined I’d be spending my evening, but I have to say it isn’t half bad.
Connor is easy to be around. Even though I’m very attracted to him, he’s kept his distance, and I know he’ll respect my boundaries.
Later, he puts Marley down for the night while I change and get ready for bed in the bathroom. My heart pounds while I brush my teeth, scrubbing my tongue a little harder than usual. If I’m about to share a bed with Connor Blake, there’s no way I’m going to bed with salsa breath.
I walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the edge of the bed in a worn T-shirt and boxers, and my heart just about jumps out of my throat. Suddenly, my silk sleep shorts and oversized shirt make me feel self-conscious in front of him, and not nearly as sexy or confident as I’d hoped. Not that I ever thought he and I would be sharing a room, let alone climbing into the same bed together.
“Are you done in there?” he asks, barely meeting my eyes.
“Mm-hmm,” I squeak back, skirting around him and fishing my phone charger out of my bag. The sooner I can find something to do with my hands, the sooner I can stop thinking about how badly I need to not be looking at his crotch.
But holy shit, those black boxer briefs really hugged him in places I would like to explore. I realize he probably didn’t pack any pajamas because he assumed he’d have his own room.
Taking a deep breath, I force my mind out of the gutter. I can hear the sink running as Connor brushes his teeth, and I climb under the covers on my side of the bed, careful not to disturb his side too much. It’s not like there’s clear etiquette on how to go about handling sharing a bed with the father of the child you’re nannying, who also happens to be a sexy Greek god of a human being. But I think giving him his space and being respectful of it is a good place to start.
I’m scrolling through my phone, pretending I’m reading something very important, when Connor comes back out of the bathroom and joins me in bed. The mattress shifts to accommodate his weight, and a fresh batch of goose bumps crop up on my skin at the thought of how close we are right now.
