A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “Were you expecting one, sir?” he asked, looking me square in the eye. “A robot I mean? Possibly the Electric Grandmother?” Mischief sparkled in his smile.

  Snap. I’d said that aloud.

  I dropped the toys in front of me and plopped onto the couch, signaling for my husband to do the same.

  “It’s time to get real. We are a hot mess. Linc is the best doctor in the entire state and works his ass off to save lives at odd and long hours. I just got a promotion I am trying to figure out.” It all came out far too quickly, and I wondered if he even caught all of my words. “We need help. We need someone who can handle our insane schedules, be consistent with the kids, and also someone who can be fun.”

  Lincoln’s hand settled on my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. “What my mate is trying to say, I think, is, will you be our manny? We have a spare room for you, we will pay well, and we know you are here for personal reasons, so we will accommodate your other responsibilities any way we can.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder, so happy I had such a wonderful and accepting alpha in my life.

  “These are my conditions.” He pointed to the folder.

  “You brought a list of conditions?” I quirked my eyebrow. “That was a bit presumptuous.” And hot.

  Not that I was looking at him that way.

  Damn it, now I was looking at him that way. I needed to shut this down. Stat.

  “I also have a folder of qualifications, one of my experience and education, one of my philosophies of child rearing, and on and on.”

  “Oh, is that all you have in here?” I sassed as I took the folder from him. I liked this man’s humor.

  “I also have my scare-away-potential-clients folder if you prefer.” He gave a polite chuckle, although I half suspected he wasn’t completely joking.

  I opened the folder, and Lincoln and I read through the very short list from his accommodations to his pay to his hours.

  “I believe we should add something in there about if your family needs you,” I offered, and Lincoln nodded.

  “Manny mentioned you were local for family medical issues.” Lincoln pulled out his wallet and handed Pace a card from it. “However this goes, I want you to have this. It is the card of a patient advocate should you so need it. Often, people feel lost in the medical system, and having someone knowledgeable on their side can make all the difference.”

  Pace took it, looked down at it, flipped it over, and then held it to him. “It says they help families in all areas of advocacy. Maybe you could help explain some more? Do they maybe help with patients who might not fully grasp the need for medical intervention?”

  My heart broke right there for Pace, as I heard his voice crack slightly. I still didn’t know what was wrong with whom in his family, but Lincoln had seen a need I never would have, even as exhausted as he was.

  I wanted Pace to give us a try, but if his coming here only managed to connect him to Lincoln’s sometimes colleague, I had a feeling it was entirely worth it.

  “Gillian can very much do that.” Lincoln began explaining her position to Pace, how she could accompany the patient to appointments and help coordinate the various health-care providers as well as provide so many other services.

  I snuck out to get the previously offered refreshments. By the time the children woke up, they had a new manny, and I felt lighter than I had since accepting my new position.

  Chapter Five

  Lincoln

  “I have a big problem,” I said to Adam after showering that night. He was already in bed, facing away from me.

  “Well, hurry up before I fall asleep.”

  I snickered and, after pulling the covers back, snuggled in beside him. “Not sex. Well, maybe that, too, but I was talking about Pace.”

  He turned around and threw his leg over my hip. “What? Is something wrong? Did you see something in his file?”

  I shook my head and looked at Adam’s chest. He and I both had tiny hearts tattooed over our pecs, matching each other. The guilt of what I was feeling was eating me alive, but not telling him would be way worse.

  “I just think he’s hot. I thought I should confess.”

  He chuckled and lazily grazed a finger over my chest. “I think he’s hot, too. Did you smell him? I swear he smells like Earl Grey tea and vanilla cupcakes. I could barely concentrate on the interview. And the accent—gods help me, even though it was only a few words here and there, it did things to me. I was a puddle on the floor.”

  His admission shocked me. And the other thing that shocked me was there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in my body because of it. He was also dead-on about the Earl Grey and cupcakes. Made me want teatime every fucking day.

  “What do you think it means?” I asked after kissing his chin. “His scent was as strong to me as yours is.”

  “I don’t know. Would you…I mean… Never mind.” Adam propped his head onto his palm.

  My voice went low. “Tell me, mate. I have to know what you’re thinking.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and let his fingers wiggle over my abs. “A third? For us to be a throuple? A threesome? Is that something we would consider? We’ve never talked about it before.” His voice cracked as he spoke the words.

  “I don’t know. Let’s not jump ahead of things. I just wanted you to know how I was feeling. If you don’t think hiring him is good idea when we are so attracted to him, we can find someone else.” Not that I thought there was anyone more perfect. I needed to shut this down. Just because a guy was hot and we both felt drawn to him didn’t mean we had to be stupid about things.

  “No. I don’t want anyone else. He’s perfect for the kids.”

  “Okay. Let’s just take the word throuple off the table. We won’t even speak of the possibility.”

  Adam nodded. “I think that’s best.” He didn’t sound convincing, but by the end of the conversation, his hand was wrapped around my cock and everything that was a mess about our life floated out of my brain. “I wonder if he’s thinking about us, stroking himself in his bed, imagining us all together.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “I thought we weren’t thinking about this.”

  He chuckled and stroked faster. “Thinking naughty things never hurt anyone. In fact, it looks like it’s doing you and me some good.”

  The next morning, the kids had a million questions. Well, Penny had a million and claimed Beau had given her a list of questions he had as well, which she would be happy to relay.

  Our daughter was a con artist.

  “Will Pace color with us? Does Pace like Play-Doh? How many times can we go to the park? Does he like to go bowling?”

  It went on and on until, by the time she was done, I’d made a full batch of pancakes and baked bacon in the oven. I didn’t get a chance to answer even one of the questions before she continued with the next.

  “Honey, I have no idea if Pace likes or does any of those things. We just met him yesterday. Maybe you can save those questions for him. I’m sure he would love to answer them.”

  I’d thrown Pace under the bus already, and he hadn’t even started.

  “I hope he knows how to make a good PBJ. Those are essential.”

  I laughed, serving her up a pile of pancakes and bacon. “Essential. That’s a new word.”

  She nodded, mouth already full.

  While Penny and Beau had breakfast, I tried to clean up. Toys were everywhere, and despite the thousands of socks strewn all over the floor, no two matched.

  Pace probably deserved double what we were going to pay him.

  He’d said he would call and let us know when he could move in, which I hoped was yesterday.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out and answered. It was Pace, and his voice poured over me like the warm syrup I’d just poured over the pancakes. Damn him and his accent. I was half mast, and he was just on the phone.

  “Today? That’s fantastic. Thank you.”

  Pace was moving in today.

&
nbsp; We were saved.

  Well, we and our kids were saved at the same time.

  “He’s coming today? Manny Pace?” Penny was covered in syrup and held her hands out while she asked.

  “Yep. Let’s get you washed up. We don’t want to be a mess when Pace gets here.”

  Beau was still content in his high chair as I brought her to the sink to clean up.

  I called Adam and told him the good news, but he had to hurry and get off the phone.

  Gods, let this help our family.

  Chapter Six

  Pace

  Dad was more unhappy with my leaving than anticipated. I hadn’t lived with him since I left for college at eighteen, having worked summers and only come home for short visits even then. And never once did I flee the continent. So when I approached him to say goodbye and promise to come take him for his doctor’s appointment in two days, one at which I’d already arranged for Gillian the patient advocate to join us, I was shocked to have him reach out and cling to my arm. The skin on his hand was nearly transparent, large blue veins prominent. His eyes were huge in his thin face.

  “Son, I don’t think I’ve told you how grateful I am you gave up your whole life to come here for me.”

  I had given some vague—and it turned out unbelievable—excuse about missing my hometown and my country. Probably would have held more water if I hadn’t sent such glowing letters every week about how much I loved my new life. At first, I’d been trying to convince myself, but as I’d settled into school and then my assignment, the mood of the words began to match mine. I loved England and never wanted to leave.

  And Dad was no fool.

  I patted his hand and knelt beside his chair. “I didn’t give up my whole life, Dad. You’re a big part of my life, you know. And I missed you.” That was why I’d written all those letters to my not-tech-savvy parent. He had no computer at home and only had a smartphone because I’d gone out and bought it this week. It lay on the TV tray beside his recliner. We’d practiced using it together, but I’d also gotten him one of those emergency push-button pendants in case he fell and couldn’t get up. “Would you rather I didn’t take this job? I can stay here if you’d like.”

  He chuckled, but it was weaker than I liked, comparing this shadow of the robust man who’d presided over our dinner table when I was young. He was a mechanic and had always had traces of grease under his nails despite the face he’d scrubbed hard before sitting down. Mom had fussed, but I caught her kissing those hands many times. He was a good provider and a gruff man, proud of his work and his family. “You can’t stay here, son. You have a job to do, and I’ll be fine. Mom would never forgive me if I held you back from, as she called it, ‘achieving your full potential.’”

  Mom…the love of his life. The homemaker and bright spirit of our home. When she died in a car accident while I was in college, I’d nearly lost him, too. But he’d pulled out of his grief and gone forward. “Dad, really, I—”

  He gave my arm a light squeeze and let his hand drop. “Son, you’re going to be right here in town. I have this silly button thing and my new phone if I need you. Hell, I’ll keep busy just learning all the things this phone can do. Did you know it has games on it? Solitaire?”

  Despite myself, a grin tugged at my lips. “Yeah, Dad, and when I come over in a couple of days, I can show you how to download more you might like. We might turn you into a techie yet.”

  He patted my shoulder and leaned back in his chair, but I didn’t miss the wince. Dammit. I hated that he was hurting. “Okay, my show’s about to go on. Good luck on your new job, Son.”

  I stood, watching him fumble for the remote and click on the news. His show. “Bye, Dad. Call if you need anything. The nurse comes tomorrow, don’t forget.”

  He waved me away, gaze fixed on the pretty blonde anchor, the only woman who’d captured his attention since Mom, so far as I knew. “Shh. I don’t want to miss the top stories. See you later, Son.”

  Shaking my head, I moved toward the door and picked up my small case. The others were already in the car. Dad’s car he insisted I use, until he was well enough to drive again. The rusted-out Plymouth was at least twenty years old but perfectly maintained by this retired mechanic, at least until the past few months. I vowed to take good care of it for him, using the skills he’d taught me way back when.

  The drive to my new job didn’t take long, but I had enough time to switch gears and think about what I was taking on. Two career-driven employers, an alpha and omega, who would be counting on me to care for their young children. My job description included everything child-related. I did laundry, but only for my charges. Cooked their meals, with an eye to nutrition and finicky appetites, light housekeeping in their play/sleeping areas. Provided recreation and some education, drove them to appointments and enrichment activities. Just like my last job, yet very different.

  I would have to learn the routines of this family, which meals they actually wanted me to prepare, when they would like me to step back to give them time with their children, and what, if any rules they might have for their family that I didn’t yet know. For example, what children did Penny and Beau play with and were there any the parents did not want them to associate with. Sometimes, parents just didn’t see eye to eye. Oh well, I had a checklist to go over with them, which should clear up most issues.

  Still…moving in with a family was always tricky. And when the parents were both extremely hot and smelled amazing…?

  Never get involved with the dads—a very important rule!—and I was pretty sure I was in over my head already.

  Chapter Seven

  Adam

  Throuple. What had I been thinking? There I was after an interview talking about our employee in such a…such a…arggg.

  Number one rule of marriage should be not to talk about anything serious or important in any way while horny and naked.

  Pangs of guilt filled me as Pace drove up to the house, all of his belongings piled in the back seat. Sure, he was hot and smelled delicious, but that didn’t mean we should ogle him, think about him while naked, or, worse, discuss getting him into our bed. He deserved better.

  So instead of just forgetting about it and moving on, I developed a new persona: Overcompensation Man, a being so aloof even I didn’t like me, and I was pretty sure he was going to walk out before the car was fully unloaded. Seeing how that failed, I then turned on Mr. Hospitality. By the time I was ready to leave for work the next morning, I all but ran to the car.

  The drive there only had my mind reeling even more from my guilt. I wanted to focus on me, focus on my career. Guilt because I had looked at another man with lust. And quadruple guilt for thinking, much less suggesting we invite a third into our bed for a second or forever.

  I needed my brain to move on.

  So, as I sat at my desk, I focused every last bit of energy into my work. I had a big trip coming up and needed to get my presentations ready. I loved what I did for the most part, but creating computer slides was the bane of my existence. They worked though, especially if I made them fancy enough to keep attention without getting too over-the-top and losing the viewers to the skill behind the slides instead of focusing on the content.

  Four hours in, and I’d redone the slides to perfection and was ready for lunch. I sent a copy of my presentation to Alex, my boss, and before I managed to get to the elevator, had an I need to see you message on my phone from him. I sighed as I typed in my response and pressed the up instead of the down button on the elevator. Looked like lunch would wait.

  I reached his office and gave his assistant, Betty, a pleading look. Sometimes, she would give me a hint of what Alex wanted, and other times she played dumb. The woman knew everything about the company, I was sure of it. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, though, so when she gave me a shrug, I assumed I was about to hear all about my failings in my presentation, not that he’d had ample time to peruse it.

  I lifted my hand to kn
ock just as Betty told me to go on in.

  “Alex,” I called out as I opened the door, “Betty said you were expecting me.”

  “Yes. Yes. Come in and have a seat.” He sounded pleased enough.

  I took my seat as he typed away on his keyboard, not glancing once in my direction. He had that personality—work was his number one priority, and he never let a moment slip by, which often meant he was working on something else as you waited. Counterproductive, if you asked me.

  “Just one more thing,” he promised as he sent a message on his phone, set it down then looked my way. “Some things have changed on the Jackson merger, and I’m going to need you to jump onto that team.”

  “Umm, Alex, not my skill set.” In fact, I had not a clue about any of that, preferring to sit in my semi-private office and focus on the tasks at hand. Mergers were like completing huge puzzles, puzzles of discarded pieces that didn’t fit, most of those pieces being people.

  “I wouldn’t have called you in here if I didn’t think you could manage it.” He picked up his phone, read something then placed it down. “You have mentioned more than once you want to move up in the company and, in your short time here, have shown me your potential to do just that. This will be an excellent platform for you to grow with.” He kept on and on, and I heard so little of it my brain stuck on the merger part.

  “Is this an opportunity or a transfer, sir?” An opportunity I could politely decline, whereas a transfer was pretty much take it or leave it.

  “It is an opportunity with the caveat that your department is the one on the chopping block.”

  Fuck. He basically told me I held my entire team’s future in my hand. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “And you think I have the skills.” I was buying time to think this through.

  “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” I had a feeling the words were not true but bit my tongue. Dollars to donuts, when I walked into my team meeting I’d discover I was the token omega.