Page 73 of Nanny for the SEALs

For a while we sipped our drinks and watched the Lakers game. I enjoyed being between them on the couch, their individual scents intermingling in my nose. Asher had shed his tie but was still wearing his dress shirt tucked into slacks. Brady had changed into jeans and a faded grey Backstreet Boys shirt.

“Seriously?” I said, aiming my drink at his shirt. “Backstreet Boys?”

He looked down at himself. “Oh. Yeah. Didn’t realize I was wearing it.”

“After we graduated from boot camp, our base commander gave Brady that shirt. Because Brady was such a smart-ass.”

“Naturally,” I nodded.

“He made him wear it whenever we were on shore leave. Everyone else in the battalion would be dressed to the nines and looking to score, and Brady would strut into the bar wearing jeans and his Backstreet Boys shirt.”

Brady took a long gulp of his drink. “Jokes on them. I have no shame. Ilovethis fucken shirt.”

I laughed and sipped my own drink. It was strong, as I had requested, and I was feeling really good about now. So were both of them.

And I still couldn’t get the porn out of my head.

“Jimmy Cardannon is a real asshole, huh?” I said.

“Now you know why we dislike him so much,” Asher said with a grimace. “It’s not just because he is our competitor.”

“It’s one thing to insult the three of you,” I said. “But it’s another thing to insult the children. I wish I had tasered him a second time.”

Brady barked a laugh. “Once is plenty. Let me tell you, Heather: I liked you before that. You’re great with the kids. But seeing that British asshole holding his smoking crotch? That’s when I knew you were special.”

He stretched an arm across the back of the couch and patted my shoulder. His fingers lingered a moment before receding. It was a totally platonic gesture, the same kind he might have given a guy.

But I couldn’t help but think of it differently.

“It sucks he got the Lakers contract,” I said.

Brady shrugged. “What can you do?”

“I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault. For sneaking into the suite that night.”

“Their decision to go with Heimdall had nothing to do with you,” Asher said quietly. “Cardannon was just trying to get under our skin. It doesn’t work on us, so don’t let it work on you.”

I smiled and said. “I still feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“You’re making it up to us by nannying the triplets,” Brady said. “Dustin went to sleep tonight without jumping on the bed or throwing his toys around. You’ve earned every penny.”

Asher nodded. “I agree. You do not need to do anything else to make it up to us.”

I had something else in mind, I thought.

I downed the rest of my drink and then plowed forward with the topic that had been stuck in my head all evening.

“So,” I said casually, “which one of you was watching porn on the office computer last night?”

Brady almost snorted his whiskey sour out his nose. Asher’s mouth slowly hung open in surprise.

“I like to keep my porn habits to myself, thank you very much,” Brady said. “I appreciate your interest, though.”

There’s no use backing down now. I might as well charge forward.

“If you want to keep it to yourself, then you should delete your browser history after,” I replied. “Or at least use a private browser. Leaving it in the history last night? Come on, man. Rookie mistake.”

Brady’s chiseled face twisted in confusion. “Last night? Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’tpoach my egglast night.”

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