Nanny I Want to Mate: A Single Dad Romance

by Mia Kayla

  “Patty has told me tons about you girls.” She ducked down, placing her hands on her knees, getting into the girls’ line of sight, shrinking to their mini sizes. “That you, Mary, love everything slime and Play-Doh, that you especially love making food from it.”

  Then, she turned to my overly cautious Sarah. With one look, I could tell my daughter was already assessing her.

  “And you love Minecraft, Legos, and journaling.”

  “I do like building things,” Sarah responded, sporting a cautious smile.

  “And I also like to play doctor,” Mary piped up, getting in Becky’s face, obviously wanting all the attention back on her.

  “That’s amazing, Mary. I love taking care of people, so I consider myself a pseudo doctor of sorts.” She winked.

  I took in their interaction, which was natural, different from this past weekend, where the interaction between the kids and potential nannies had seemed forced, rehearsed.

  For the first time since this whole finding a new nanny debacle had started, a sliver of hope pushed through.

  When Mary took Becky’s hand in hers, I knew that she’d already won my daughter. But Sarah’s quiet demeanor told me she wasn’t exactly sold yet.

  Patty motioned to the seats at the dining table. “Let’s get started, shall we? Piggy and Teddy Monster and Pooh want to ask you questions, Miss Becky.”

  Mary sat at the head of the table, sitting on her knees so she was taller. She hadn’t done this with the other candidates, as their interviews had been more formal. But she’d voiced her opinion about interviewing Becky. Mason, of course, was against it, but Brad always—sometimes excessively—accommodated every little wish of Mary’s.

  Becky sat right by Mary as we all took our seats. I was opposite of Becky. Brad was beside me and then Mason. Somehow, we always ended up sitting in birth order, as though we subconsciously knew our place.

  Mary raised her fluffy pink stuffed pig. “Piggy wants to know what you know how to cook and what you’ll be feeding us.”

  “Well, funny enough, cooking is one of my specialties.” Becky smiled.

  The corner of my lips tipped up. My eyes flickered to her shimmering lips again, and I shifted in my seat, an unease filling my chest because …

  Shit, I am checking out the nanny.

  “What do you like to cook?” To my surprise, the question fell from my mouth.

  Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. The last few interviews, I hadn’t said a word, mostly because Mason and Brad led them all. I had simply observed.

  I cleared my throat. “The girls don’t have allergies, so that’s a good thing. I know there are a ton of kids at their school who have allergies, and that’s tough, so I’m glad our girls don’t have any.” And now, I was rambling, and I didn’t ramble normally.

  All eyes were on me still, as though I’d grown an extra set of ears.

  I tipped my chin toward Mason. “Mason is pretty strict with their diet, so I don’t have to be. Do you want to go through your restrictions?” I adjusted the collar of my shirt, feeling heat creeping up my neck.

  Is it hot in here? Yeah, it is hot in here.

  I stood and looked at the thermostat. Nope, a pleasant seventy degrees.

  I took my seat as Mason plucked out a list of approved foods from his portfolio and passed it to Becky. “Yes. So, I just make sure they get in more protein than carbs. I minimize their sugars, and there are no preservatives or sugary drinks in the house. Fresh-squeezed orange juice is okay.”

  Becky fumbled for something in her purse. “Okay. Maybe I should take notes.”

  Brad shook his head. “Don’t worry, Becky. As long as they are not starving or dehydrated, you’re straight. Don’t bother with Mason. He was dropped on his head multiple times when he was younger.” His mouth quirked up in humor.

  Mason threw him a look, and I knew in about two seconds, they’d be at each other’s throats again, so I changed the subject quickly. “Sarah, do you have any questions?”

  She blinked up at me and slowly shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip.

  My eldest internalized a lot, and it took great effort on my part to get to the bottom of what she was actually feeling. I made a mental note to take her out later for a daddy-daughter date.

  Nat had always been attuned to Sarah, knowing if something was bothering her before it got out of control. I had to remind myself to be focused and present and to be aware, and I usually was with Sarah. I’d have to know more of her thoughts later when I spoke to her.

  “Okay, girls, you guys can leave and let us handle it from here,” I said, pointing to the door.

  Patty ushered the girls out, and after they left, Mason started his regular questions that he had for every candidate.

  “So, Becky, can you tell us a little about yourself and your past work experience?”

  She visibly swallowed, and Patty shot Mason a look.

  It was an easy enough question, but what Patty had told us earlier, I knew we shouldn’t be pushing too hard.

  Becky wrung her hands on top of the table. “Well … let’s see. I’m a certified nursing assistant. I got my certificate online and went to nursing school for a bit but didn’t finish because of life.”

  Curiosity nibbled at my insides, and I rested my forearms at the edge of the table. I shouldn’t wonder what life event had gotten in the way of her getting her degree, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering.

  “I took care of Carl from when he was twenty to twenty-three.” Her eyes flickered toward the table and then up to meet our eyes. “Until he died. He was an unbelievably loving and gentle soul.” She swallowed and bit on her bottom lip. “And then I’ve been taking care of Eleanor ever since. I know her body is deteriorating, but her mind, it’s sharp. I mean, she suffered from a stroke and lost her ability to talk, but she can beat me at Scrabble still.”

  Patty laughed. “That woman and her word-building skills is amazing.”

  “So, any boyfriend, husband, kids?” Mason said.

  We all turned to him.

  Becky’s facial features dropped. It was the first time the permanent smile on her face had slipped since she’d stepped into the house. “Well, no boyfriend, no husband …” There was a long pause, and I had seen a flash of pain flicker through her eyes, but it was gone a second later. “No kids either.”

  They hadn’t noticed it because they hadn’t experienced the pain that I had. But I swore it had been there.

  Brad grabbed the sheet of paper, where the questions were listed, and flipped it over to the blank side. “My turn.” He was winging his turn. “Favorite Disney film?”

  As the questions continued, I watched her every reaction. I knew her nervous tells—the wringing of her hands, the biting of her bottom lip.

  And with each question, that niblet of curiosity grew.

  One thing I excelled at was being a good people-reader. I had to be. I was the head of the largest printing corporation in the nation. I’d guarantee that all CEOs had the same strengths, one of them being the bullshit-reader. I had to make multimillion-dollar decisions for Brisken Printing Corp., so there was no way I could mess around when my family and the multiple families that I employed depended on my sound decisions.

  As I sat back and took in Becky and all that she was, there were three things I noticed that counted.

  1. She was nervous.

  2. She was a genuine, trusting person, like Patty had indicated.

  3. She had a past. One that she wanted buried deep and kept there.

  Chapter 7

  Charles

  Thirty minutes later, the interview was over, and Patty and Becky were outside, playing with the girls, while my brothers and I were still congregated in the dining room.

  I sat down as Mason paced the room. Brad had kicked up his feet and placed them on the other chair, getting delight out of Mason freaking out.

  “I don’t like it. She seems like a nice woman, but seriously, we know nothing about he
r. She can’t provide us with a social security number and …” He paused. “I can’t properly run a background check on her because we don’t know where she’s originally from. And do you know how many Becky Summers are out there? And is her name Becky or Rebecca?” He scratched at his temple and placed one heavy hand on his hip.

  Brad threw his feet off the chair. “Why the hell did you run a background check on her when Patty specifically said that she wouldn’t be up for it?”

  Mason threw both hands up like Brad was crazy. “Because it’s Mary and Sarah, and I told you, I couldn’t properly run one.”

  Brad scoffed, exasperated. “What do you think is going to happen? That Becky is going to kidnap the girls and hold them for ransom?”

  Mason slapped his head. “That scenario didn’t even cross my mind, but shit, it might …”

  A muscle jumped at Brad’s jaw. “Listen, she took care of that disabled man for years for Patty’s best friend and then Patty’s mom after that. You can’t get a better rec than that from Patty.” Brad turned to face me. “So, big bro, ultimately, this is your decision.”

  I steepled my fingers together and leaned back in my chair. I’d already made up my mind, and I sensed Brad already knew that; otherwise, he wouldn’t be giving me that victorious grin.

  My decision was based on the fact that Patty trusted her, Mary liked her, and at the moment, I had no other options, given Patty was leaving.

  Plus, my people radar told me that Becky was a good, kindhearted woman.

  “I think we should give her a shot.”

  Mason lifted both hands to the ceiling as his mouth slipped agape. His voice was almost whiny. “Charles, come on. Let’s talk about this.”

  I swore my parents had spoiled him so much, being the youngest, that he’d perfected the whine, even as an adult.

  Relief flooded my insides. By the look on Brad’s face, I knew he felt the same.

  Brad stood and then patted me on the back. “I’ll round up the troops and tell them to get ready for dinner.”

  We were going to the girls’ favorite Italian restaurant today to celebrate Patty and the little time we had left with her.

  I nodded and then forced my attention to Mason as I stood. He was breathing hard, face red, like he always did when he truly believed he was in the right. His heart was in a good place, and no one, not even Brad, could fault him for that.

  I walked over and placed my hands on his shoulders. “Just listen,” I said, knowing he was going to list his twenty reasons again on why we should be cautious in hiring Becky. “We could interview hundreds of candidates, and they could all look good on paper, but at the end of the day, they could be horrible people.”

  The fierce determination in his eyes softened then, so I continued, “This comes down to one thing—trust. And I trust Patty. Plain and simple.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Patty loves our girls like they are her own. She trusts Becky with her mother’s life and even our girls. Patty has fully vouched for her.”

  “But—” He started to argue, stubborn ass that he was.

  With a firm shake of my head, I said, “No buts. We’re giving Becky a shot. It’s not a permanent solution, so we have every right to change our minds. But in the meantime, we will be nice to her and allow her to do her job. Okay?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Mason?”

  He blew out a breath and nodded, his eyes downturned. “Okay.”

  I snaked an arm around his shoulders and ushered him out the door. “Now, let’s get some dinner.”

  Becky

  “You’re hired,” Charles said.

  My eyes widened before my hand flew to my mouth, and I gripped his forearm with both hands. “Thank you!” Then, I flushed red because I had in fact almost jumped on him.

  In my defense, he was the one who had relayed the news, and he was the closest person to me at that exact moment. I would have happy-attacked Brad, Mason, or even Patty if they’d told me the news.

  I wanted to blame embarrassment for the heat that rushed my body, not the feel of his strong forearm underneath my fingertips. It could have been my imagination, but I swore his cheeks had reddened.

  I backed away slowly and took in everyone’s eyes on us—particularly his brothers’ eyes, which were on Charles.

  Charles cleared his throat and tipped his chin. “You’re … you’re welcome, Becky,” he stuttered, averting his gaze and motioning to the door. He plucked out his wallet. “You’ll need this. It’s a credit card for the expenditures for the girls. It has a very high credit line, so don’t go disappearing with it.”

  I took the card from him and stared at it. I didn’t know if this was a joke or if he was serious because his face was serious.

  He turned to Patty then. “Patty, please give Becky the phone we gave you before you go.”

  “Will do,” Patty replied, a small smirk playing on her lips.

  “We should go now.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and then tugged out his keys. “Um … we have dinner reservations.” He pulled at his collar and then adjusted his shirt.

  As everyone filed out, I squeezed Patty’s hand beside me. “Thank you, Patty!” Then, I hugged her because I was beyond excited and relieved.

  There was no doubt I would love it here by the stories Patty had told me and the vibe I was getting from the family. This would be a change, no doubt. I was used to caring for adults, but I imagined that the children would bring a different kind of joy.

  When Patty patted my back, I whispered, “That was awkward, huh?”

  She pulled back, smiling. “Not awkward. Just funny.” Then, she hooked my arm in hers. “And I’m so happy. This puts me at ease. You here, taking care of my girls.”

  Thirty minutes later, we pulled in front of a swanky Italian restaurant. Patty and I rode with Charles while the girls rode with their uncles. I knew it was an upscale place, given the amount of cars waiting for valet service, the ambience, and even the patrons standing by to get inside—women in their cute dresses and men in business-casual wear at their sides.

  I tugged at my sweater and pulled my ponytail to my side. I wished I’d changed my clothes, but I didn’t own anything fancy. Plus, the men hadn’t changed and were in casual attire. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a tad bit underdressed and out of place.

  In big, bold letters, Café Italia was written against the awning above the restaurant. I’d never been to a fancy restaurant. There was never an opportunity to go. The fanciest restaurant I’d ever been to was at the casino buffet, and that was a comped meal.

  A valet attendant opened the back door to Charles’s Range Rover, and I stepped out of the car.

  Brad and Mason had driven in a separate car and were right behind us, and I followed the clan.

  Everyone’s eyes flipped up to Charles as he led us past the people waiting outside, past the double doors, to the inside, where a sophisticated woman with a red bob holding menus greeted us.

  I tugged at Patty’s arm. “Patty, I’m not sure I can afford a meal here.”

  She linked my arm through hers. “Don’t worry. Charles takes care of everything.”

  I smiled awkwardly, all teeth showing this time. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, honey. You’re officially employed by the Brisken household.”

  My attention was forced to the front—to this tall woman with Pantene-sleek chestnut-brown hair in a fitted dress.

  “Good evening, Mr. Brisken. Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

  I forced myself to stop fidgeting and concentrated on pushing one foot in front of the other. I couldn’t help it. I was a bucket of nerves and totally out of my element in a fancy restaurant in my casual clothing.

  As we were escorted to our table, I observed everyone noticing the Brisken men. I couldn’t blame them. They were gorgeous. I mean, when three tall, model-looking, dark-haired, brown-eyed men strolled into Café Italia, everyone—men and women, old and young—openly gawked as we walked past tables to the back of the restaurant.
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  Maybe they were staring because Brad was carrying Mary or Sarah was knowingly making Mason laugh so loud that it was making everyone turn, but my money was on the fact that this family looked as though they had stepped out of a Gap commercial.

  Seriously.

  But although the men were stunning in their separate and unique ways, Charles stood out to me. Because his beauty was like that of a god you couldn’t touch. Strong, fierce, powerful.

  He didn’t talk often, but when he did, he spoke with authority and strength. Undoubtedly, he’d been groomed for and grown into his position as the CEO of Brisken Printing Corp.

  We were led into a private room in the back of the restaurant, which had one long table for twelve people. Appetizers were already set on the table, and when I sat down, two waiters entered, dressed in black button-down shirts and black slacks.

  “Sir, would you like your regular drinks and meals today?” he asked, addressing Charles at the head of the table.

  “Yes, but we also have a new guest.” Charles motioned to me, and I smiled shakily.

  I wasn’t used to attention being called to me. I was used to being in the shadows. To living in the shadows, out of necessity. Just the thought of coming into the light was making me shiver. As soon as that thought pushed through, automatically, my eyes scanned the room, the vicinity, and I zoned in on the exit, like I always did when I entered an unfamiliar area.

  “Becky, what would you like to drink?” Charles asked with an air of kindness.

  “Just water, please,” I croaked out, apparently having lost my voice in the process of all the attention.

  His brows knit together. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” I nodded curtly, so he wouldn’t doubt me.

  The waiter took out a pad from his back pocket. “And for the meals?”

  “Please order our regulars too. Becky?” Charles asked. “Take your time, looking over the menu.”

  I swallowed. “I guess you guys come here often.” I flipped open the menu and scanned it quickly. I’d never been in this position, having to choose from my pick of fancy meals. It was fun and also unnerving.