Page 30 of A Thirst for Franc

“Felt like it, too.” I took a small sip, savoring the complexity of the layers and identifying each one before letting the liquid slide down my throat.

“I’m guessing the new nanny is working out?”

Quinn’s face popped into my mind, that sweet laugh filling my ears. “She’s amazing.”

“You say that like you want to get her in bed,” Brady said, and my eyes snapped to him.

“Fuck off.”

Brady’s bushy eyebrow lifted, his forehead creasing. “Defensive. You must like her. Nero said she’s hot.”

“Nero better keep his dick in his pants and stay the hell away from her.”

Brady didn’t say anything, but the widening of his dark brown eyes said more than enough. We’d been friends since we were in elementary school, wreaking havoc in the schoolyard and then breaking hearts in high school. I always knew what he was thinking.

I steadied my gaze, ignoring all thoughts of Quinn, and focused on Brady. “It’s not like that.”

“You sure? From where I’m standing, I’d say I’m seeing something completely different.” His shit-eating grin told me he didn’t believe a fucking word.

“That’s because you had Nero in your ear.”

Nero needed to learn to shut the hell up. We were getting too damn old for me to keep threatening to knock him out.

Brady grabbed two glasses from the drying rack, placed them on the shelf, then stopped in front of me. “From Nero, all I got was that she’s gorgeous with a killer body. Laurent made me think Nero would lose his balls if he acted, and from your earlier reaction, I’d wager to say I’m right.”

I took another small sip of whiskey, then ticked my finger. “First off, she’s Gio’s nanny, and she’s great with him. She brings him out all day, and by the time I get home, his energy levels are evened out. He’s not bouncing off the walls until midnight. He’s passed out by ten, if not earlier. She cooks. And in a week, she’s taught Gio how to clean up after himself instead of leaving a trail of toys and destruction.”

“She’s good at what she does.” Brady grabbed two more glasses and put them next to the others. He turned to me. “That’s still not telling me shit. If anything, it’s only working in her favor.”

“She’s twenty-seven, dude.”

“So?”

“I’m thirty-nine. When I graduated high school, she was seven.”

“And if she was eighteen, and you were twenty-nine, it would be weird, but she’s an adult.”

“I don’t even know why we’re even having this conversation. I gave up on dating when Rebecca walked out and left me with a toddler.”

“You’re a father, man, not dead.”

“You should fucking talk. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“Kind of hard when I was starting a business from the ground up and only started turning a profit in the last two years.”

“Yet, you insist on being behind this bar twenty-four-seven.”

“I have hired a few people.”

“And you never leave.”

Brady glanced around at the space I helped him build. “What can I say? You have Gio. I have this.”

I held up my glass, and he held up his. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t have to.

In one sip, Brady finished his glass and put it on the rack of dirty glasses. “Twenty-seven,” he said. “I wonder if she’s ever seen the original Ghostbusters.”

“Everyone has seen the original Ghostbusters. It’s a classic.”

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