Page 25 of Nanny for the SEALs

So when Rogan’s knuckles gripped the steering wheel a little bit harder, and the side of his cheek tightened as he clenched his jaw, I had my answer.

“Oh yeah!” Brady said. “I forgot all about that.”

“She was just rambling,” Rogan said.

“I don’t need sodium thiopental to know you’re lying,” I said.

“When did you two find time to make out?” Brady asked.

“We didn’t make out,” he replied curtly. “It was in the bathroom inside the suite. She ran inside and bumped into me. I caught her before she fell. Then she kissed me. End of story.”

“Myassthat’s the end of story,” Brady said. “Was it good? Did you cop a feel? Was there tongue?”

“I’m not having this discussion right now.”

Brady went right on talking. “Because that dress she was wearing last night? Oh baby. If I was a casting director, I’d give her whatever part she wants.”

“Calm down there, Harvey Weinstein,” Rogan said.

That shut Brady up real quick. “I didn’t mean it like that. Geez.”

“What happened last night doesn’t matter,” Rogan went on. He was addressing the entire car, me included. “The important thing is that we need her to be our nanny. We can’t flirt with her, or fool around with her, or do anything else that might jeopardize that. Weneedsomeone to get our kids under control.”

Your kids,I thought. Cora was the easy one. She was a voracious reader, and just sat in the corner with her books all day. It was the boys who were constantly getting into trouble.

But Rogan’s core argument was correct. We desperately needed someone to watch the children so we could focus on our security company.

Which was difficult because of how beautiful Heather Hart was.

ObviouslyIcould keep it in my pants, so to speak. I wasn’t an animal. But Brady was another story entirely. Despite being the eldest of us at thirty-one, he had the willpower of an untrained puppy. Wave a treat in his face and he’d follow you off a cliff.

And a woman as gorgeous and charming as Heather was more alluring than any treat.

I was somewhat worried about Rogan as well. The fact that he had kissed her was surprising. Rogan was the Commanding Officer (an O-5) of our SEAL team, with an instinct for how to handle certain situations. He knew what to do and what not to do. Heather was never a potential client of ours because she wasn’t the real Amirah Pratt, but Rogan hadthoughtshe was at the time. And he had kissed her anyway.

I made a mental note to discuss it with him later.

We pulled up to the converted warehouse that served as the HQ and base of operations for our security company. The second floor, however, had been converted into a loft-style condo. We went upstairs and opened the front door. Shouts and squeals of excitement immediately drifted through the doorway.

Patty, who was Brady’s sister, immediately jumped up from the couch and grabbed her purse. She already had her shoes on, like she had been waiting for us. Her black hair was a mess, with what looked like the remains of a melted crayon above her ear.

“They’reyourproblem, now,” she grumbled, shoving past us.

“Thanks, sis,” Brady called as she ran downstairs to her car.

Rogan looked around the living room and sighed. Coloring books were scattered everywhere, with pages torn out and crumpled up. It looked like the boys had gotten into a paper ball fight.

And based on the sounds coming from the next room? It was still in progress.

“I hope Heather accepts the job,” Rogan said.

Brady nodded. “From your lips to God’s ears.”

Rogan’s phone rang. He answered it, said a few words, then hung up. He blinked in surprise.

“That was Amirah Pratt’s agent. She wants to hire us.”

“Even after the embarrassment at the suite?” I asked.

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