Nanny I Want to Mate: A Single Dad Romance

by Mia Kayla

  “It’s our favorite restaurant,” Sarah said, taking a cheese stick from the middle of the table.

  I ducked my head into the menu in front of me, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. Silence ensued, which made my ears feel impossibly hot.

  I lifted my head. “Suggestions, anyone?”

  “I like the mac and cheese here,” Mary answered, bouncing on her booster seat.

  “I always get the chicken parm, gluten-free pasta, with a side of vegetables. The chicken is baked, not fried,” Mason added.

  Brad pointed to me. “Whatever you do, don’t pick that.”

  “Try the steak, Becky. It’s good,” Charles added. “The steak here is tender with just the right amount of fat. A little amount of fat is good on steak because it adds to the juiciness. The little specs of fat found inside of the muscle is called marbling.”

  The brothers’ eyes swung Charles’s way. Mason’s mouth slipped ajar, and Brad covered his mouth to contain a laugh.

  “What?” Charles shot out.

  I didn’t understand what was so funny.

  Brad tried to dim his amusement. “I didn’t know you were such a steak expert.”

  “I …” Charles’s eyes flickered my way, then to his brothers’, and then to the girls. “I learned it from watching all those cooking shows with the girls.”

  “Dad picks up on the most interesting information,” Sarah added. “I don’t even remember that fact.”

  I smiled.

  “Okay.” I shut my menu. “I’ll have a steak, medium.”

  As our food was being prepared, I took in the interaction of the family—how over-the-top goofy Brad was; how Mason was the opposite in his demeanor, taking jabs at Brad when he could; how Charles sat back, simply taking in everything in his silent strength, which was overpowering.

  Normally, a person of his stature and height would intimidate me, but there was a tenderness in his gaze as he dealt with his children that eased me and melted my heart into a puddle of goo.

  I knew his wife had died during childbirth, which must have been traumatic for him, but I wondered if he was still heartbroken and if that was why he hadn’t remarried.

  The moment that thought filtered through, I straightened and shook my head. I knew nothing about his life. He could very well be on the way to marriage with a girlfriend he’d been dating.

  I bit my lip and told myself to stop wondering about my new handsome boss because that could lead to very dangerous things—one being unemployment.

  When Brad and Mason bickered or Mary and Sarah started up to annoy each other, Charles silenced them with a few words. When he spoke, there was an authority in his tone that made everyone listen.

  “Daddy,” Mary whined, “where’s the food? I’m hungry.”

  Charles tipped up Mary’s chin. “Soon.”

  “I can’t believe the service right now. Usually, it’s impeccable but not today,” Mason added. “We’ve been waiting over an hour for our food. This is a little bit ridiculous.”

  “Mason, dear”—Patty patted his hand on top of the table—“patience. And it seems like it’s a busier night than normal.”

  My eyes made it around the room, to the packed restaurant beyond the glass doors. Every table was occupied.

  A good while later, the two waiters held two large, circular trays as they entered. When they placed our plates in front of us, my mouth watered as the spices from the steak filtered through my senses.

  It had been a good long while since I’d had a steak, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a steak at a restaurant.

  When my knife cut into the juicy, tender meat, I frowned. The meat was practically breathing, red and medium rare, if that. I had asked for it to be medium.

  “Yeah, that won’t do. I think it’s still half-alive,” Brad peeped up beside me.

  “It’s fine.” I could eat the potatoes and vegetables, but boy, did I want a steak. I didn’t want to make a fuss.

  Charles’s eyes flitted my way and back to my steak. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he stayed quiet.

  When the waiter came to drop off more food, Charles lifted a finger to get his attention. He motioned to my plate. “Her steak is rare. She ordered it medium.”

  The poor waiter lowered his gaze, already grabbing the plate. “I’ll have it up to the kitchen in no time.”

  “When can we expect it back?” Charles asked.

  The waiter shrugged and teetered back on his heels. “Honestly, sir, we’re kind of backed up. I’d say, ten or fifteen minutes.”

  With a shake of his head, he said, “That won’t do. Set it down.”

  The waiter grimaced. “Are you sure?”

  Charles pointed to the table. “Set it down.”

  The waiter did as he had been told, most likely at the seriousness in Charles’s voice.

  “Becky, you can have my steak.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

  When he reached for my plate, I took the other side. We both stood, the table between us, playing tug-of-war on a plate of raw steak.

  “Just eat mine. It’s a perfect medium.”

  “No, really, I can deal. That’s your steak.” My face warmed. I hated everyone’s eyes on me. I did better in the corner, unnoticed.

  “Becky …” The tone he used was one he’d used on the waiter and the children, but one thing I did not do was bow down when I was being pressured.

  “Charles, it’s fine,” I said, equally as curt. I was feeling the heat of everyone’s gaze on us and trying not to let it get to me.

  “Children, there is no need to fight in this fine establishment,” Brad said, reaching for the plate between us, plucking it out of our hands, and replacing mine with Charles’s. “Now, we can all eat.”

  My face flushed even deeper, my whole body feeling like it was sweating. “It’s really okay, Brad,” I said.

  He gave me a pointed look as I sat down. “Don’t even try it. No one can win against Charles. Not me. Not Mason. Not the girls. Not at a game of basketball, not at a game of Mario Kart, not in the boardroom, and I doubt on a plate of steak. So, yeah … it’s a lost cause. Just enjoy your food.”

  As soon as Charles sat down, my eyes flickered up to meet his, defeat and a bit of gratitude rushing through me. “Thank you.” I tipped my chin toward his plate. “Aren’t you going to send that back to the kitchen?”

  “It’s fine.” He cut up Mary’s chicken strips next to him. “I don’t want to make the girls wait any longer. Plus, we always eat together.”

  The look on his face told me I shouldn’t try to push it. I wasn’t used to people taking care of me in this way. I was used to fending for myself. “Thank you,” I repeated.

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded, a tiny tip of a smile to his mouth. “Now, Mary, can you please say grace?”

  Mary smiled big and wide. “God is good. Thank you for food.”

  The table laughed.

  “All right, let’s dig in,” Brad said, already twirling his fork in his fettuccine.

  I bit my lip for a second, watching everyone else eat before I tried the first bite of my steak. And it was absolutely divine. My mouth was in heaven as the meat melted against my tongue. I almost sighed out loud; it was so good. I could have hugged Charles for giving up his dinner for me.

  “So, now that you have Becky working for you …” Patty’s voice trailed off as she cut up Sarah’s chicken beside her. “I’m requesting an early leave—this Sunday.”

  Charles sat up straighter in his seat.

  Brad’s eyebrows furrowed. “Come on, Patty …”

  Mason visibly frowned. “Why so soon?”

  Her eyes crinkled as she spoke, “My job here is complete. Mission accomplished, as Sarah would say.” She patted my hand on the table. “And now, Becky is here. I’m at ease, leaving. You guys have everything you need now.”

  My heartbeat picked up in speed, and I blew out a breath. All my belongings could be packed u
p within two suitcases. Given my circumstances, I didn’t keep anything with me that wouldn’t allow me to leave quickly if I had to.

  I’d been with Patty for so long that I couldn’t help the nervous butterflies that took flight in the pit of my stomach, moving on to my new family without her. Though I was excited to start anew, caring for the children, I couldn’t help the feeling of apprehension from pushing through. I knew nothing about Chicago, the big city, or how to care for children. I’d thought there would be a transition period, a time where I would slide into the job with Patty beside me.

  I guessed that was not happening.

  The gnawing nervousness had my stomach flipping and flopping, and my steak didn’t taste as good as it originally had.

  Chapter 8

  Becky

  The next few days flew by, and before we knew it, the dreaded Sunday arrived. Mary and Sarah cried all day, understandably so, as Patty was the woman who had loved them and assisted in raising them for the last four years.

  The girls were by Patty, hugging her fiercely on the couch, their delicate arms wrapped around her small frame. I took it upon myself to make sure that all her bags and boxes were labeled properly.

  Patty had been with the Brisken family for years, so it only made sense that she had accumulated so many personal mementos from their time together.

  On my hands and knees, I labeled the fourth and last box. Charles had paid extra to ensure that all of Patty’s belongings would go all at once.

  When I had initially helped Patty pack, I’d realized how intertwined she was in their family. Homemade presents from the girls. Paintings they’d made together. She was in almost every family photo and had gone on a handful of family vacations with them—the Bahamas, Disney, Universal.

  I couldn’t help but gawk at some of these photos, three well-built, shirtless men on the beach with these two young girls. Talk about chick magnets. There was no denying the bystanders in the picture openly ogling in the background. But it was Charles that stuck out to me.

  From me gripping his forearm, to our steak incident, to my first night here when he’d brought my belongings up to my room, and right after when I’d watched him tuck in the girls, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when he wasn’t in the room.

  I told myself I needed to get a grip, but tell me what woman wouldn’t be attracted to a man who had the strength and build of Zeus and the gentlest of hearts?

  I could be attracted to him—that wasn’t a sin—but I’d vowed after my last relationship to never share my feelings and life with another man ever again.

  Last night, I’d gotten the girls ready with Patty, trying to memorize the routine, and I’d walked in on Charles reading Mary a bedtime story. My heart had melted as Charles lay on her tiny bed beside her, his voice soft and sweet, opposite of his normal commanding tone.

  “She all packed?” Charles’s tone had my body warming again. His voice had a trigger to my internal thermostat that I couldn’t control. The only thing that helped was not looking at him directly.

  “Yep, all packed.” I stood still, averting my stare from his face, and then I crouched down to lift up the box, but Charles beat me to it.

  “I’ll get that.”

  Our eyes locked, and my breath caught in my throat.

  “Thanks.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  His lips tipped up but only slightly. It was as though it were a crime to smile or more so that his smiles were reserved and he saved them only for special occasions.

  “Raised as gentlemen. Our mother taught us well,” Brad said, sliding next to me.

  Mason growled behind him, “Quit flirting, and get these boxes and suitcases in the van.” He was dragging two suitcases behind him.

  “I’m not flirting.” Brad’s smile slipped. “No offense, Miss Becky, you are beautiful, but I draw the line at dating the nanny since you are basically going to be like family, and that’s incest.” He made a pretend face of disgust.

  “Wish you’d draw the line at dating your secretaries.” Mason threw him a look before he disappeared outside.

  “I haven’t dated Sonia …” Brad called out to Mason. There was a long pause, as though it was supposed to be ended with yet.

  I could hear Mason outside. “Yeah, the first one you haven’t dated. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

  Brad grunted and then proceeded to drag a box out the door.

  Charles walked into the house, hands on his hips, which stretched the white shirt over his broad shoulders.

  I tore my gaze away before I started salivating all over the floor.

  Becky, get a grip.

  I bit my cheeks to force myself to focus. This was my boss, the one who paid me. He should be the very last on the list to ogle.

  “We’re about ready. Van is loaded. Let’s be in the car in five minutes.” He headed over to the living room, where Mary and Sarah had a tight vise grip around Patty.

  She was whispering something in their ears, which made the girls cry harder.

  The frown on Charles’s face was evident. He stood there, shoulders lax, staring at their interaction. I watched the expanse of his chest, but there was no exhale, as though he was holding his breath.

  After a beat, he cleared his throat, standing under the doorframe. “The driver is here. We’re leaving in a few.” His voice was softer now, sadder even. “Mary, sweetie … make sure you use the bathroom before we go, okay?”

  There was no answer from the girls; only soft sobs escaped their lips.

  After a few seconds, he turned. “I’ll wait for you guys in the car.” His eyes met mine briefly before he headed out the door.

  Charles had rented a van, driver included, so that all seven of us, along with the boxes and suitcases, could ride and bid farewell to Patty.

  Sarah, Mary, and Patty were all in the third row, and I was sandwiched between Brad and Mason in the second row as the driver took off from the Brisken estate.

  Charles sat on the passenger seat in the front, on silent mode.

  Mary’s cheek was attached to Patty’s shirt, and after thirty minutes into our car ride, her cries ceased, and she fell asleep on Patty.

  My heart clenched as I thought of the distance between us, at the loss of this woman who’d been a mother figure to me for years. I would miss her dearly.

  “We’ll miss you, Patty,” Mason said, turning to face her. “We need an update on Eleanor, and if you need help with anything, with her move … let us know.”

  “We’ll especially miss your apple pancakes. Make sure you leave Becky the recipe,” Brad added.

  Patty chuckled. “I have. Becky is up-to-date with all the recipes, the girls, and your schedules. She has a photographic memory, that one.” Patty patted me on the shoulder from behind.

  “Is that so?” Brad said, turning to face me. “How good are you with counting cards? Have you ever been to the casino?”

  “Ignore him,” Mason said beside me.

  I simply smiled. “In my former life, I used to live at the casino.” I bit my cheek as soon as the words flew out. I couldn’t believe I’d said that.

  Mason stiffened beside me, and I swallowed, wondering why I’d been so forthcoming.

  “Oh, we want to hear stories.” Brad grinned.

  Charles peered behind him, at me, and I held my breath.

  Clearing my throat, I said in my defense, “That was a long, long time ago. Years. Nowadays, I’m all about making money, not giving it to the slot machine.” Or more accurately, the tables.

  I pulled at the collar of my sweater and shifted in my seat. I wanted to slap my own head for letting those words slip.

  “Were you any good?” Brad asked, genuinely curious. “In your rebellious younger years?”

  I averted my stare, looking straight ahead of me. I needed to be more careful. I needed to watch what I said in front of these men. I added with caution, “My ex-boyfriend was good at gambling. If there is such a thing.” Too good, which wa
s why he had been banned. A person could only go through a never-ending winning streak for so long until cameras and people caught on. He’d gotten away with thousands before it stopped. “I kinda just watched.” I bit my tongue from speaking further.

  Liar. I had been his wingwoman. For a long while, it was the way we’d made rent, bought groceries. The memories flooded me with shame. I closed my eyes briefly and pushed back the guilt and all thoughts associated with my past. I pushed them deep down to the recesses of my brain that I never revisited.

  When we pulled into the departure terminal, I released a heavy sigh, thankful the attention was off of me because as we approached the American Airlines sign, the car went eerily silent.

  When the driver pulled up to the curb, Charles got out of the car. My eyes followed him walking out to help the driver unload the boxes from the back.

  Mason and Brad turned to Patty, extending their hands. She gripped them fiercely, and their eyes locked for a few good long seconds.

  “Promise me you’ll visit, okay?” Mason said quietly.

  She nodded. “I will. And we have Mickey right next door, so you’ll have to visit me too.”

  Her frail hands tightened over theirs. “You are good men. I don’t have to tell you to take care of my girls because they were your girls before they were mine.” Her voice cracked at the end. “You both will make some fine husbands one day. I just hope you find women worthy of your love.” She gave their hands a maternal pat before releasing them and throwing her arm around Sarah and the sleeping Mary in her lap.

  Brad laughed. “Notice how she said that she hopes we both”—he motioned between Mason and himself—“find women worthy of our love.”

  “Shut up,” Mason said, rolling his eyes.

  Though I was new, I caught on quickly. It wasn’t a secret that Mason had been in a long-term relationship with a woman. I had yet to meet Janice, but from what I’d heard, I wasn’t missing anything. No one, not the girls or the brothers or Patty, liked Janice. A part of me was curious about her, therefore wanting to meet her, yet I was a little nervous that she’d be a total witch.

  The double doors opened, and Charles motioned for us to get out of the car.