Page 44 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
I do as she asks, feeling her warm fingers brush against the back of my neck. “Sounds like you’ve always been working, even at home.”
Jessa snorts. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Although, it’s been nice renting from the Wilkeses, making a little home for myself. Did you know their son is coming home from his shore-duty tour early?”
“I didn’t. What does that mean for you?”
Her voice turns solemn. Thoughtful. “Well, he needs somewhere to stay, so my lease is ending a few days early. They’re being super fair about it, though. I mean, they cut my rent in half this month, so I’m really the one winning here.”
I frown. “But . . . where will you stay? Your trip isn’t for another two weeks. Are you leaving early?”
“Chin up,” Jessa says.
At first I think she’s caught on to the quiet stress underlying my casual tone. Then I remember where we are and what we’re doing. I lift my chin, and Jessa drags her fingers over my forehead, combing the wet hair back.
“Thank you.”
Snip, snip. Snip, snip.
Finally, she answers my question. “I can’t leave early because my flight is already booked. So you don’t have to worry about finding an interim nanny between me and whoever you’ve got lined up to take over next month.”
The truth is, I have no one lined up. Because contracting another nanny means that I have to accept the fact that Jessa is really leaving.
While I do understand that, in theory, I’ve been avoiding processing it fully. The truth is, I’ve been dreading replacing Jessa. Even more so, I’ve been dreading losing Jessa. My stomach tightens with dread at the thought.
“However,” she says, snapping me out of my sad spiral, “I do need a place to stay for the last few days. I was thinking about asking Scarlett if I could crash in her guest room. How much do you think is fair to offer her?”
I ignore Jessa’s question, instead asking one of my own, barely formed before it barrels out of my mouth. “Why don’t you just stay here?”
Her hands still in my hair, a look of surprise plastered on her face, she watches me, waiting for some sort of punch line. But it isn’t a joke. Although, if she doesn’t respond soon, I’ll have to force myself to play it off as one.
“You don’t mean that.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re only saying that because I’ve practically got a blade to your neck.” She emphasizes the word blade by snipping once again with the scissors.
I swallow, steadying my voice to sound as casual as I can without seeming flippant. “I mean it. We’re nearing the end of the second quarter at Frisky Business, and I still have to meet my quota. Meaning I’m only going to get busier until then. I could use your help taking care of Marley at night too.”
“Your quota?” Jessa narrows her eyes, all skepticism and uncertainty.
“Yep.” It’s not a lie. Not really. I do have to meet a quota of customer interactions that yield goods sold.
But I’m not going to tell her that I’m only two points away from my goal, a milestone I’m sure to pass tomorrow. And I’m certainly not going to tell her that the reason I want her to move in has little to do with Marley at all. Because that would require me admitting to myself that I’m in love with my baby girl’s nanny.
Oh fuck.
Jessa mulls over my offer while my thoughts stop dead in their circular tracks, focusing on one simple fact, as clear as a summer sky.
I love Jessa McClaine.
I love this gorgeous, contemplative woman. I love her eyes. I love her freckles. I love the way she snorts a little when she laughs. I love the feel of her fingertips trailing across my skin. I love how she smells, how she tastes, how she makes me feel when she meets my eyes across a room. I love how she loves my daughter, how she looks so at home, so at peace, holding Marley in her arms. I love Jessa and all the complications that come with her.
Well. Isn’t that the most tragic thing you’ve ever heard?
“I guess it would make the commute easier, not that it was ever much of a hike.” She laughs, though her voice is a bit uneasy. “Are you sure?”
The question is honest. Practical. Giving me a way out. Little does she know that I’m already trapped.
I do my best to crack a smile. “As long as you don’t totally butcher this haircut, you can move in as soon as we’re done here.”
Jessa scoffs but a grin sneaks across her lips, the kind of grin I’m desperate to kiss. “I’m already done, you diva. What do you think?”
I really haven’t been paying attention to the haircut, I guess. I’ve been lost in thought, so I take this opportunity to ground myself in the present.
