Page 16 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

Jill launches into an explanation about how her rubber ducks needed a bath and Ms. Quinn agreed to have it here. Jill may be shy around others but she’s a chatterbox around the people she’s comfortable with when she’s having fun.

“Was this one of Lady Duckyton-Feathers’ ideas?” I ask teasingly while Ms. Quinn is setting the six duckies on the edge of the tub with measured, nearly hesitant movements. She still hasn’t turned around.

“No, Daddy. Lady Ducks has gone to Cape Cod for the week to enjoy the sea air and visit her long-lost sister, Myra. Ms. Quinn said she probably needed the vacation so I told her it was alright to go.”

The imagination of this child is as vivid as ever but this is the first time Lady Ducks has ‘left.’ “Ms. Quinn said, did she?” Has this woman managed to talk Jill into letting her imaginary friend go perhaps?Move aside, Mary Poppins.

Slowly, the lady in question stands and turns around. I note she’s young and quite lovely… before the ground beneath my feet promptly tilts away.Oh fuck.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wolfe,” Lois… no,Ms. Quinnsays. Those fascinating hazel eyes of hers are imploring and it’s plain she’s not surprised to see me.

But me? If I was gobsmacked when Ryder apologized for running off the earlier nannies, how can I even begin to describe my current state of utter disbelief? “You… you’re…”

“Quinn Batista, sir,” she says, sounding breathless while twisting her hands together.

Sir? You sucked my cock six weeks ago and now I’m sir?

“Daddy, you should say something back now,” Jill whispers, albeit loudly, trying to remind me of my manners.

I look at my darling little girl, so innocent, and give a pained smile.Sweetie, I’m not sure what to say. I’ve fucked Lois Lane and Mary Poppins both apparently and she’s standing right in front of me after singing nursery rhymes with you.

“Oh Theo!” a voice calls brightly behind me. “Ryder told me you’d returned. And I see you’ve met Quinn.”

I spin in place to see my mother standing in the doorway, smiling at us all like she couldn’t be more delighted. Does she know? Has this young woman told her about that night? God, surely not!

“Um… yes.” My brain and mouth have forgotten how words work. Why is she here? How did she find me? She wouldn’t give me her name six weeks ago and now she’s living in my house? Caring for my children? What game is she playing?

Snap out of it, man. I can hardly ask the questions I want to with Jill and my mother standing here.

“I’ll go and let you visit with your daughter,” Ms. Quinn says, clearly as uncomfortable as it’s humanly possible to be and still breathe.

She starts to flee and my brain kicks into gear. She’s not the one leaving this time. Not yet anyway.

“These are your quarters. It’s us who should go.”

I paste on a smile. I hope it’s a smile. I’m so confused I’m not sure what smiling entails at the moment.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” I say on autopilot. Her eyes widen comically and I gnash my teeth. “Imean, it’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Quinn,” I manage to grit out around my fake as hell smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Wolfe,” she whispers.

I put Jill down who scampers off after her grandmother. Ms. Quinn has taken a few tentative steps toward the door I’m still blocking. Her t-shirt is wet but she’s wearing a bra. Still doesn’t completely conceal those delightfully perky tits.

My mouth runs dry and then her scent hits me, that exotic, spicy scent with subtle floral notes I recall from our night together. Fucking hell. How can I think straight with these images invading my brain? And, what the hell is going on?

I catch her wrist before she can slip past me and she has to stifle a yelp. “Tonight, after everyone else has turned in,weneed totalk,” I growl before I stalk out of the room, half enraged… and half hard.

8-Quinn

I’ve been dreading this day for weeks now and it wasn’t even supposed to bethisday. Tomorrow’s Saturday when I would be off duty and could flee to Isa’s without seeing him. Yes, that was my cowardly plan.

Oh, I knew I’d have to face him eventually and we’d need to talk but I kept putting it off in my mind, so busy with the children and wanting to believe it would all work out. I love it here. Why does my one and only one-night stand have to come back to bite me in the ass?

On the flip side though, I suppose I know who ‘baby’ was that he spoke to that night. If he’d said, ‘I need to call my daughter,’ I wouldn’t have fled so quickly or refused to give him my name.

Meanwhile, this doesn’t address my current problem. “He’s going to fire me,” I whimper into the phone after dinner.

“He’s not going to fire you. He has no grounds to fire you.”

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