Cowboy's Curvy Nanny (Cowboy Billionaires #1)

by J. P. Comeau

  I shook my head. “I feel like a child about to be grounded for the rest of her life.”

  Sadie giggled bitterly. “As you should be! Did you learn nothing from Dr. Morris?”

  I licked my lips. “He’s not like Dr. Morris. Nowhere in the realm of the same kind of thing.”

  Luna muttered. “He’s your boss, and that’s really all that matters in this situation right now.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. You know I’m a sucker for a nice raunchy story, but now you have a pattern that isn’t healthy in your life. We have to address it,” Sadie said.

  I scoffed. “Trust me, I feel shitty enough.”

  I heard Sadie flop onto her squeaky couch. “So, how the hell did this happen? I mean, we were there--what?--a a couple of weekends ago? And things felt completely platonic between you too.”

  Luna giggled. “Minus the drooling we were all doing. He is pretty tasty.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What have I entered, the twilight zone?”

  Sadie ignored my comment. “How did this come about?”

  I stared out the window. “I don’t know, really. It just… happened.”

  Luna spoke softly. “Like it just happened with Dr. Morris?”

  I didn’t say anything because she had a point. Just like I’d practically thrown myself at him, I’d thrown myself at Bryce. Staring too much. Making any excuse to be in his presence. Allowing him to get much too close after having too much wine with him last night. It was so much like my situation with Dr. Morris. It was uncanny.

  I can’t be his full-time nanny. Not like this.

  Sadie’s voice pierced my thoughts. “Earth to Willow. You there?”

  Luna hissed. “Just give her a minute, would you?”

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I’m here. Just got a lot on my mind.”

  Sadie giggled. “Like that man and his muscles?”

  I suppressed a groan. “No. Like, how I need another job.”

  Luna balked. “What!?”

  Sadie sighed. “Oh, come on. Give yourself a little more credit than that. You can’t just go around quitting your jobs because you have a slip-up with the boss.”

  I stood to my feet. “No, no. I need to quit. I need to get Marie Lee and Bryce on their feet after all this nonsense they’ve been through, then I need to help them find a replacement.”

  “And why do you feel that way, exactly?” Luna asked.

  I drew in a sobering breath. “Because I know the longer I stay, the more of a chance there is that it’ll happen again.”

  Sadie sighed. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “It really doesn’t,” Luna said with confidence, “we know how much you love children, and how much you love to help people, in general. This is the perfect job for you. Don’t let one little mistake--.”

  My voice grew bitter. “This isn’t a little mistake, Luna. I slept with my boss. Again. And I know damn good, and well it’ll happen again if I allow it to. If I get myself alone with him again. I can’t let that happen. That man, and his daughter, are going through enough. The last thing they need is some half-assed nanny making things even harder by throwing her body around.”

  “Now you wait just a second,” Sadie said harshly. “You know damn good, and well, this is just as much his fault as it is yours. I mean, I don’t know what happened or anything, but I know you better than that. I know you didn’t throw yourself at him. In fact, I’d be willing to bet my soul he probably made the first move, and you just went along with things, and now you’re feeling guilty that you didn't stop him. Right?”

  I paused. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

  Luna jumped in. “And that’s fine. It’s okay that you don’t know. But, I don’t think the right conclusion is to automatically assume you can’t do this job.”

  I marched out of the room. “I’ve already made up my mind. Once I get them back on their feet and get things normal around here, I have to find a replacement. I have to find another job. I’ve done a terrible thing--.”

  “Hey, he’s a party in this, too,” Sadie said.

  I suppressed my angry tone. “We’ve done a terrible thing. And it’s only going to get worse as time goes on. Either it’s going to make things awkward, or it’s going to bring about emotions no one needs right now.”

  Luna cleared her throat. “Willow--.”

  I didn’t let her get started. “You guys said it yourself. I’ve made this a trend now—an ugly, nasty, good-for-nothing trend. And I can’t continue like this. I have to cut this off at the head before it grows into something like what I had with Dr. Morris. We both deserve better than that. Bryce deserves better, and so do I. I don't want to be this person, you guys. I don’t want to be ‘that girl’.”

  Sadie’s voice grew soft. “You could never be ‘that girl’, Willow. Not with how much you love.”

  My eyes watered over. “I just need a job where I work and do the right things. That’s what I need in my life right now. Whether it comes with racing or not, I don’t even care. But, I know this isn’t the right place for me. It never was, and it never will be. I can’t do wrong by this man not just because of what he’s going through, but because he’s got an innocent daughter in the mix.”

  Luna sighed. “Is there anything we can do to talk you out of it?”

  I wish. “No.”

  The phone fell silent for a while before Sadie spoke up.

  “Then, we support you in whatever you decide to do.”

  “Yeah,” Luna said, “we’re with you, whatever you need.”

  I walked into the kitchen. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

  After winding things down and hanging up the phone with my two best friends, I gazed out the kitchen window. I conjured the memory of Bryce swimming in the pool that night, with the moon igniting his body in ways I’d never seen before. I pressed my hand softly against the kitchen window glass. I watched the phantom memory of his almost-naked body swimming back and forth in the clear, pristine, undisturbed pool. How a man could be so beautiful, yet so deadly, I’d never know. But, as I turned toward the living room, the memory of him was everywhere.

  I saw him dancing with his daughter and smiling as he held me in his arms. I saw the ghost of our bodies tumbling to the floor from the couch, writhing and grinding like two mad people, trying to forget their pasts. A tear trickled down my cheek before I quickly wiped it away. I thought about all the pain he must be in. All the pain Marie Lee must feel on a daily basis. And I cursed his wife--well, almost-ex-wife--for what she’d done to them. She was an absolute idiot to leave all of this behind. And if she thought she’d somehow find something better than this, she was sorely mistaken.

  Because this was as good as life got.

  But it wasn’t my life to enjoy.

  “You’re such an idiot,” I whispered to myself.

  With the baby monitor in my hand, I made my way out back. I forced the memories away as I sprinted for the guest house, reaching for the only place his presence hadn’t defiled yet. I slammed through the door and closed it behind me, eyeing my laptop heavily. And as I walked over to the small breakfast nook this place afforded me, I braced myself for the job hunt.

  I knew that with every minute I stayed, I’d convince myself that I could have this kind of life. That I could swoop in, replace his ex-wife, and all would be well. I knew that if I stayed, I’d convince myself that he wanted me there. That he needed me there, as much for him as for his daughter. I’d paint this lovely picture in my mind of something that wasn’t unfolding because I was nothing but lonely.

  Lonely, depressed, and useless.

  “Fucking hell,” I hissed.

  Bryce was a stand-up man who stood by a woman he got pregnant, and he deserved a stand-up woman. Not some woman who slept with her bosses in exchange for racing their horses. My fingers clicked across the keyboard as I ignored my faint reflection in the laptop screen. When in the world had I become this person? When did
I go from a strong, dreaming woman with a college education to a weak-willed college girl that threw herself at every successful man that crossed her path?

  Bryce deserved better. His daughter deserved better. And that meant I had to leave.

  Even if I was already falling in love with him and his daughter.

  14

  Bryce

  My phone rang, and I sighed as I answered it. “This is Bryce.”

  “Mr. Remington. It’s Detective Peterson.”

  My back stiffened, feeling the stress immediately come over me. “Detective. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from you again.”

  He chuckled dryly as if he had heard that multiple times through his career. “Well, jobs like this usually just take time. The first couple of weeks is all about learning her movements…where she goes on a regular basis…who I can expect to see her with regularly. Then, it’s all about picking those places apart for answers as to why she goes.”

  I blinked. “Right. So, uh, you got anything for me?”

  “I wanted to call because I’ve pulled some phone records to take a look at. You know, match those numbers with the people I see her with on a regular basis. And she’s got a great deal of phone calls going to and from a burner number. A few different ones, in fact.”

  “Burner phones? You think she’s in some kind of trouble?” I wanted to be worried about her, but that was very difficult for me.

  “On the contrary, actually. I think the burner phones connect us to the man you say your wife left you for. Because these numbers predate the day that you told me she walked out.”

  My jaw clenched, and my hand curled into a ball. “She was receiving calls from some burner phone asshole even while she was still in the house?”

  “I could only pull her records so far back. But, I’ve got the past six months’ worth of records, and these numbers are strewn throughout the days. I’ve got in a queue to pull text messages as well, but that takes infinitely more time to get my hands on.”

  I swallowed down a growl. “Call me the second you do.”

  “Noted. But, there’s something else you need to be aware of. I stumbled upon it after listening to a very juicy conversation between her and a ‘Miss Lila Edwards.’ That name ring a bell?”

  I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Lila’s her best friend. Why?”

  “Well, they were having coffee about a week ago together, and Lila mentioned something about funds. Your wife--.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  “Right. Your ex-wife got pretty uneasy about the conversation. She switched over to talking about something else, so I did some digging. Turns out, she’s got a bank account in an Auston bank in her maiden name.”

  I blinked. “Her maiden name?”

  “Yes, sir. Took me a while to pull the records, but once I did, I noticed a trend. Twice a month, on the nose with the days, there are regular deposits that always equal two-thousand dollars that go into this Auston account. And it didn’t take long to trace back where that money is coming from.”

  I sighed. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “I’m afraid not, Mr. Remington. She’s been siphoning money out of your joint accounts. You know, a little bit here and there from each account that total up to two-thousand dollars and putting it in this personal account of hers for a while now. It would make it hard for someone to notice unless they were specifically looking for something since the deposits are not always the same… but always equal two-thousand bucks.”

  I dreaded the answer to my question. “How long?”

  He shuffled his papers and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You said you two have been together for about two years, right?”

  I growled at him. “How long, detective.”

  He paused. “The payments started about two years ago, Mr. Remington.”

  It felt like a knife had been driven into my heart. For a split second, I couldn't even breathe. My wife. The mother of my child. Siphoning money off me from the beginning? Had that been her plan all along? Did our marriage not have anything to do with starting our family together? I had done right by her. Made an honest woman out of her so this community she proclaimed to love wouldn’t look down their noses at her as an unwedded mother. And she does this to me?

  Did she ever care for me?

  Was the plan all along to get my money and run?

  “Sir, do you want me to--?”

  I drew in a deep breath through my nose. “Yes. I want you to compile the information and get it over to me, please.”

  “I can do that. In the meantime, is there anything else you want me to pursue? Now that I’ve read you in?”

  I snickered. ‘Read me in,’ like we were pursuing some sort of high-level fugitive. “Not for now. Just stick with figuring out who the hell this man is that she’s run off with. I’d like to know the face of the person that’s keeping my daughter’s mother away from her.”

  “Of course, Mr. Remington.”

  “In the meantime, get me all of that information as quickly as you can. We’ll talk soon.”

  “I’ll get it to you by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Thanks.”

  The second I hung up the phone, my eyes fell to the calculator sitting next to my computer. Did I dare? I mean, the math was easy enough to do in my head. But, did I dare type it out and stare at it? Looking at it might make it all the more real. It might just send me over the edge.

  It was as if I couldn't help but hurt myself further.

  “Two thousand twice is four grand. So, four grand times twelve…”

  Forty-eight grand.

  “And that times two…”

  Just shy of one hundred grand.

  I stared down at the number in shock. That was ninety-six thousand dollars over the course of two years. On the one hand, if I could go two years without noticing four grand disappearing from my accounts each month, then it meant I was doing much better in my career than I had figured. And besides I trusted her and never thought about double-checking our joint bank accounts. Staring down at that number made me sick, and I was grateful her name wasn’t on any of the Remington family’s business accounts.

  I shook my head, wondering if this was the small price she was willing to pay for sacrificing her life with her daughter? Ninety-six grand and some guy that fucked her better in bed? It made me want to cry out in pain…in horror…in disgust…at the sins that had been committed against Marie Lee. All this time and that woman still hadn’t managed to find the time to come up for air and even text me asking about our daughter.

  Yet here she was. Living high off my dime.

  “She doesn’t get a cent more,” I murmured.

  As I scrambled around for the divorce papers I still hadn’t looked at, a burst of bitter laughter fell from my lips. How in the world could I have been so damn stupid? I mean, I’d funded everything for this woman. Her shopping trips, paying off her credit cards every month, and pretty much anything else she desired. And here she had been, siphoning yet more money off me like some common jezebel; siphoning money so she could abandon the only two people in her corner someday to run off with a common bull in a suit.

  This guy must really be a piece of work.

  I laid my hands on that manilla envelope and decided to kickback. I slid the stack of papers out and actually started reading them. Something I hadn’t dared do since I was first served by that assistant in a terrible suit coat. And what I found was nearly highway robbery.

  “Half? Of everything!?” I exclaimed.

  I bolted upright, almost knocking my computer over as I slid my legs off my damn desk. My eyes bulged as I looked down at the list of things and demands Patricia had before she’d settle this divorce. My eyes kept widening with every word I read. She wanted alimony, a massive amount of child support--which I was fine with--and on top of that? Half of my retirement. My investments. My savings accounts.

  All in all, she was asking for a settlement totaling
several million bucks.

  And that was just the first payout.

  “Oh, hell no,” I murmured.

  I picked up my phone and instantly dialed my family company’s lawyer.

  “Mr. Remington. How can I help--?”

  I cut her off. “I need the number to a very, very good divorce lawyer.”

  Mrs. Jenkins paused. “I happen to know the best divorce lawyer in this part of the country.”

  “Pay whatever he or she requires for their fees. Because my divorce isn’t going down like my ex thinks it’s about to.”

  “Care to read me in on some of the facts? That way, I know how to present this to him, by the way. His name is DaShawn Abbott.”

  I nodded. “Wonderful. Well, for starters, I just figured out via a private investigator that my ex-wife has siphoned money from our joint accounts into a personal one to the tune of almost a hundred grand. She left me high and dry with Marie Lee to galavant off with some young stud--which I have proof of with the note she left behind--, and now she’s sent me divorce papers. She’s asking for half of everything, including my retirement accounts, after she left me for another man and hasn’t once checked up on her daughter.”

  I heard her scribbling in the background. “Custody agreement?”

  “I want Marie Lee. Plain and simple.”

  “Right. What’s the child support payment a month she has laid out.”

  I chuckled bitterly. “Four grand. Which happens to be the exact amount of money she’s been siphoning off me every month for the past two damn years.”

  Her voice fell flat. “How convenient. All right, I have what I need. I’ll give DaShawn a call right now, and if he has room in his schedule, I’ll pass on your information.”

  “Tell him I’ll pay him double if he makes the time.”

  “Done, and done. Keep your phone close, Mr. Remington.”

  I sighed with relief. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  My company’s lawyer hung up the phone, and I tossed everything onto my desk. The divorce papers, my cell phone, and a bit of my pride as well. I ran my hands down my face before I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. And as I sat there, I noticed something.