Page 14 of Falling for the Nanny

Before I could get my hopes up, though, she turned and began walking toward the side of the house. She was planning to let herself in through the gate rather than come through the door. I frowned, watching her slim body disappear into the dark. I didn’t have lights over there, and the fence edged up against the woods. Great Falls was safe enough, but like any wealthy enclave, it attracted its share of opportunistic trouble.

Before I could think better of it, I pushed my chair back and went out to meet her. She was just letting herself in through the gate when I reached it, and I saw the tremor run through her when she realized there was someone standing just on the other side. I’d startled her.

“You scared me,” she breathed, gripping her purse strap tightly.

“Come in through the front door at night,” I said curtly. “At least until I can get some lights on this part of the property.”

Cat raised her chin. “I’d rather use the gate.”

“And I’d rather you not walk through the woods at night.” I gestured to the darkness behind her and added witheringly, “Unless you forgot to put on your resume that you’re a third-degree black belt who can kill with her bare hands.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said stubbornly.

It was such a blatant untruth that I laughed shortly. “Come in through the front door at night,” I repeated, and turned back to the house. “And come inside when you get a minute. I want to make sure you’re ready for tomorrow.”

Cat came in fifteen minutes later, looking uncertain as she came up the stairs from the basement. “Is this how I–” she gestured behind her.

“You’re a member of this household now. You can come in any door you like.”

“But not the side gate.”

“No. Not at night.”

I didn’t know why she was being so obstinate about this. It was a matter of safety. Maybe she was lulled into a false sense of security by the fact we were isolated and well secured, but there was a reason my neighbors and I had these security systems. Wealth didn’t equal safety–sometimes it was the opposite.

“Hi Cat!” Lily said brightly, running into the room. She was as relieved as I was to have someone else with us again. As close as we were, it was too empty in this big house without a third person. Before I knew it, the two of them had disappeared upstairs to see Lily’s room, and I was left in the empty kitchen. I started doing the dishes from the dinner of reheated pizza we’d had, trying to figure out why I was so irritated. I should be glad Lily was so happy about Cat, and I was. I didn’t want Cat just floating around the house–I wanted to make sure she knew Lily’s schedule and my expectations and then send her on her way.

It was an hour before Cat came downstairs again. From my office, I heard her on the steps. She walked into the kitchen, and finding it empty, came toward the front of the house where she found me.

“Hi, you wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?”

I made an effort to compose my face into something resembling friendliness. It wasn’t Cat’s fault she was forty years younger than my ideal candidate. And it wasn’t her fault that I found her more attractive than I wanted to. Today she was in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair in its usual ponytail. She wasn’t doing anything to make me wonder what her hair would look like if I pulled it free from the hair tie; that was all on me.

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any questions,” I said. “You have the keys to the Subaru? You know what time Lily’s school starts and how to get there? What time to pick her up?”

Cat nodded. “I did a run through day with Mrs. Barnes last week. I know how drop off and pick up works. I know she has ballet after school on Tuesdays. I know she has show-and-tell this Friday, and a birthday party on Saturday afternoon.”

“Great,” I said, trying not to give away that she actually knew more about my daughter’s schedule than I did right now. “And you have my number saved in case there’s an emergency?”

She nodded in the affirmative, but her eyes slid to the side.

“Do you?” I demanded. I pulled out my phone and found her in my contact log. “Let me see your phone.”

Her hand went protectively to her front pocket where I could see the outline of it. “I have it,” she insisted, but her cheeks were flushed.

“Ms. Bowen, I would rather you just admit you don’t have my number and save it in your phone now than have no way to contact me if you need to,” I snapped. I called her and waited expectantly, my hand outstretched.

Cat slowly pulled her phone free of her pocket and nodded down at it without letting me see it. “Got it.”

“Let me see,” I said impatiently. Christ, what was so damn hard about this? It was one thing to fuck up by not having my number saved when you’re about to become the primary caretaker of my daughter, but mistakes happen.

Cat’s cheeks were pink and she was looking at the ceiling by the time she finally put her phone in my hand. “There,” she said through gritted teeth, “now do you believe me?”

I looked down and saw that she had indeed saved my number.

Under David HotDad King.

CHAPTER 9

---