Page 66 of Stolen Kiss

Elodie had her spaghetti dinner while Emilia and I had grilled salmon with a side salad, though I was mostly making sure Elodie was eating.

My little girl was a picky eater by choice. That was to say, there were some days when she would eat anything and everything I put down in front of her, and days when she would eat nothing but spaghetti, and days when she would eat nothing but fruit.

Tonight, in her excitement, I guessed she forgot she was supposed to be difficult during dinner time. I called that a blessing.

“You’re good with her,” Emilia commented when I got her to take in the last forkful of noodles in her mouth. Most of the tomato sauce was around her mouth and chubby cheeks. I used a wet wipe to clean up her hands and mouth before placing some crayons and a blank notebook in front of her.

This should keep her occupied for ten minutes, tops.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a bite of my half-finished salmon. It was getting a little cold, but still delicious. I noticed Emilia hadn’t finished her meal.

Either she was a slow eater, or she was waiting for me. I grabbed her chair and moved her closer to me. She let out a small squeal before shooting a glare my way. Elodie was barely paying us any attention now—she was busy scribbling something on the page.

“Did you want me to feed you, too?” I joked.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and thinking she was being funny, said, “Yes.”

“All right.”

I made a move to grab her fork, but she stopped me. “I was kidding.”

I took another bite of my salmon, smiling around the food as I chewed.

She rolled her eyes but went back to eating.

“Does Elodie’s nanny not live here with you guys?”

I shot her a questioning look. “Nanny?”

“Yeah, you know, the woman you pay to take care of your daughter when you can’t.”

“Emilia, Elodie doesn’t have a nanny.”

She frowned at that, as if the idea was incomprehensible to her. “What do you mean? Then who takes care of Elodie?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“You?”

“Yes,” I said drily.

She flushed. “But you’re rich. Surely you can afford to hire a nanny.”

I nodded. “I can. But I don’t trust just anyone with my daughter.”

“What about when you’re working?”

“She goes to daycare.”

“All day?”

I shot her a look. “No. She goes to her ballet class. Or she’s with my mom. Sometimes, she’ll hang out a bit with Ensley, Jace, and Evelyn, and other times, she’ll be with me at the office, but those days are pretty rare, and I don’t work that late.”

She leaned back against the chair but said nothing.

“Have I shocked you into silence?” I asked her, only half joking.

“I don’t get it. Are you against hiring a nanny?”

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