The Wrong Kind of Love

by Lexi Ryan

  Instead, I take a step back. “What you and I did was a mistake. I need a nanny more than I needed an easy screw.”

  She shakes her head and looks me over, disgust curling her lips. “I guess you were telling me the truth after all. You really are an asshole.”

  “You can stay until I find a suitable replacement.” My voice is crisp, and my words snap.

  She lifts her chin. “Good. Start your search as soon as possible.”

  Nicole

  Me: What would you say if I told you I hooked up with a guy last night?

  I stare at my phone and wait for Teagan to text me back. I’m alone in my new—temporary—bedroom. After Lilly came downstairs and introduced me to each of her forty Shopkins, I got my bag from the car and Ethan showed me the upstairs bedroom where I’ll be staying.

  Ethan and I didn’t talk much. In fact, since the moment we agreed that he should find my replacement sooner rather than later, he’s said as few words to me as possible and barely looked in my direction.

  My phone buzzes in my hand, and Teagan’s name and number pop up on the screen. “Hello?”

  “Okay,” Teagan says, “one, when you text me from your sister’s number, it confuses the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Two,” she says, “you haven’t even been in town twenty-four hours, and you’ve officially seen more action in this place than I have in the two years I’ve lived here.”

  Twenty-four hours? So much has happened since yesterday morning that I feel like I left Jeffe weeks ago, not a day.

  “And three,” she says, “I’m jealous as fuck right now, which is pretty pathetic, given the current state of your love life.”

  “Teagan, trust me when I say there’s no reason to be jealous.”

  “Don’t pull that ‘Mr. Right is waiting for you’ crap on me. We’re getting to a ‘desperate times, desperate measures’ situation over here.”

  I’m grateful that she can somehow make me smile despite the mess around me. “That’s not what I mean.” I take a deep breath. “I met a guy at the bar last night, and he took me back to my hotel.”

  “And I shouldn’t be jealous why? Did you do the dirty? Did he make up for the months of chastity Marcus was inflicting on you?” She makes a gagging sound. “Seriously, the born-again virgin thing should have been a red flag.”

  “I know.” I shake my head. “And no, we didn’t have sex, but we did . . . a lot.”

  “Tell me about your dirty night. Go ahead. Spare no details.”

  My cheeks are so hot they could fry bacon, and I’m glad no one’s in the room to see it. “It was a rough day, and he was sweet, and I had tequila.” Maybe I should be grateful that things worked out the way they did. Kathleen made it sound like Ethan was having a hard time accepting anyone to care for his daughter, and our situation will encourage him to find my replacement faster than he might have otherwise. Since I only agreed to carry on with this ruse because she didn’t have anyone else, it might all work out for the best.

  Except that now I’m even more uncomfortable about lying. Even if it’s only for a couple of days.

  “I never got his name,” I say.

  “Dirty. I like it.”

  “And I met him again tonight.”

  “You were supposed to move into Dr. Jackson’s place.”

  “Exactly.” I stand because I’m too antsy to be still. “I hooked up with Ethan Jackson last night.”

  “You hooked up with Dr. Jackson?” She pauses a beat, almost as if she wants her question to sink in. “Your new boss?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He didn’t recognize you? I mean . . .” She lets out a low grumble of frustration. “Didn’t he know Veronica?”

  “Apparently his mom arranged the whole thing, and when Veronica came into town for her in-person interview, Ethan got called to work and he didn’t have a chance to meet her. He was just as shocked as I was when I showed up at his house.”

  “Oh, Nic . . . At least you didn’t have sex, right?”

  “Small blessings, I guess.” The things I did with Ethan were so intimate that I’m not sure the distinction really matters. “But he’s pissed about it, so I’m only here until he can find a replacement.”

  “If that asshole fires you, you can come live with me. We’ll get bunk beds.”

  I laugh, but my eyes are burning with unshed tears. What a fucking crazy twenty-four hours. “Thanks. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s offered all weekend.”

  “Except for what Dr. Jackson offered last night, am I right?”

  I roll my eyes. “Shut it.”

  “I’m just teasing. I really am sorry. You deserve a break.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “I’m working three twelves starting tomorrow, but let’s get together on Thursday. We’ll do lunch while the kid’s at school.”

  If I haven’t been replaced by then. “Deal.”

  We hang up, and I stare at my duffel bag. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but whether it’s for a day or a week, I should unpack what I have with me. In addition to my honeymoon attire, I have a couple of outfits from Teagan, but regardless of how quickly I’m dismissed, I’ll definitely need to buy some clothes that are appropriate for Michigan winter. My sundresses and bikinis aren’t gonna cut it.

  When I’m done hanging my clothes in the closet, I set to the task of filling the drawers. Of course, I have my hands full of panties when Ethan walks into the room.

  Because that’s my life.

  “Hey, do you—” He stops, his eyes frozen on the pile of lace and cotton in my hands. Is it my imagination, or do his eyes darken? Do his lips part incrementally?

  Don’t do this to yourself. He’s only looking at your underwear because you’re holding it in front of him like some sort of peace offering. You don’t want him to want you anyway. He called you an easy screw!

  I force my feet to move and go to the drawer to put away the underwear, angry about the “easy screw” thing all over again. I’m just gonna hold on to that for all the moments that his ridiculous hotness makes me want to fantasize about him.

  Ethan clears his throat. “Have you eaten dinner? Lilly and I were just about to have some tacos.”

  We can’t have a simple conversation without my skin blazing from the awkward. I’m sure dinner at the same table will be a total blast. “I’m actually not hungry, but I’ll be down in a bit to hang out with Lilly. I’d like to spend time with her this evening so she can get comfortable with me while you’re around.”

  “That makes sense.” His gaze shifts from me to my bag on the bed—still half full of the sexy lingerie I packed for my honeymoon. I’m not sure how useful a dozen negligées and four bathing suits are going to prove for a nanny gig in winter-stricken Jackson Harbor, but thankfully, Ethan doesn’t seem to process what’s in the bag—or the giant box of condoms sitting next to it. Those were for my honeymoon too. Marcus wanted to have kids right away, but I wasn’t sure I was ready, so I packed them just in case, and never stopped taking my birth control.

  In retrospect, there were a lot of signs that I shouldn’t have married him.

  Ethan runs a hand through his hair, and the light catches on his wedding band. His wedding band. “Listen, I’m sorry about how I reacted when you came to the door tonight. Seeing you here definitely took me by surprise.”

  I tear my gaze off the wedding ring. It shouldn’t matter that he wears it or that he wasn’t wearing it last night, but it feels like it matters. It makes me feel like the other woman, even when I know his wife is gone. “It was unexpected for me too.”

  He takes another breath. “And I’m sorry about last night. I should never have done more than walk you home.”

  My heart sinks—which is absurd, since he called me an easy screw, but my heart doesn’t seem to care about cruel words and unfair judgments. It never bothered discriminating before, so why start now?

  I didn’t expect anything to co
me of my night with Ethan, and now that he’s my boss, that hasn’t changed. Honestly, the best-case scenario is that we forget about last night, so I shouldn’t care that he’s apologizing. But if I had the choice to undo it, I don’t think I’d want to. He made me feel precious and special exactly when I needed it the most.

  “I promise I’ll rein in those behaviors while you’re living here,” he says.

  I burst into laughter. “Oh my God, you make it sound like you’re some sort of sexual deviant who can’t control his impulses.”

  He arches a brow. “I didn’t control my impulses very well last night.”

  I shake my head. “Last night wouldn’t have happened if you’d known who I was.” Or who I’m pretending to be. “Give yourself some credit. Let’s just . . .” I want to say forget it ever happened, but my mouth won’t obey. I think he might beat me to it, but then his gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips, and I hold my breath.

  “I’ll see you downstairs.” He leaves the room, and I rush to the door.

  “Ethan,” I say, stopping him when his back is to me and he’s two steps into the hall.

  He turns. “Yeah?”

  I’ve spent my whole life letting people think what they want about me because I hate confrontation. Hell, I almost married Marcus when I was sure he was cheating on me just because I was scared to confront him about the phone call I overheard. I can’t be that girl anymore. I won’t. If I’m going to be here pretending to be my sister, I might as well channel her self-confidence.

  “I’m not an easy screw. Don’t talk about me like that again.” I close the door before he can reply.

  Ethan

  I’m an asshole.

  This isn’t news to me. God knows Elena made sure to tell me repeatedly before she died, and I’ve worn the fucking label as a badge of honor since. It’s my own personal scarlet letter, except instead of punishment, it’s protection. It’s the wall I keep around me—around Lilly. I’d carry a sign if I could. Asshole. Stay away.

  I’ve met too many women who want to step in and replace my wife. They think marrying a doctor would be great. I mean, nobody with money has real problems, right? It’s a fucking joke, but it doesn’t mean people don’t believe it. But Elena can’t be replaced, and Lilly doesn’t need a new mommy. I’ve been diligent to avoid women who don’t understand that. Sure, I had that misstep with Kyrstie—she said she was looking for the same thing I was but decided she wanted more and tried to strong-arm me into giving it to her. Otherwise, my scarlet letter A has served me fucking well.

  Tonight, for the first time I can remember in so long, I don’t want to be an ass. I just want to take it back.

  “I’m not an easy screw. Don’t talk about me like that again.”

  Was it the look on Nic’s face or the way her words trembled as she spoke them? Or maybe it’s that I knew calling her easy was unfair the moment I said it. Hell, she probably skipped dinner tonight just so she didn’t have to be near me. The asshole.

  I walk halfway down the basement stairs and stop to watch the girls. Lilly’s been dragging Nic around the house all night, and now they’re in the basement playing with Lilly’s kitchen set. Nic is sitting on the floor with her legs crossed under her as Lilly pretends to be her waitress and brings her plates full of toy food.

  “How did you know lemon and hot dog sandwiches were my favorite?” Nic asks. She dips her head down to the plate and inhales deeply. “It smells so good.”

  I’m not sure what I expected, but Nic is amazing with Lilly. She’s not just a competent caregiver—she clicks with my daughter. A lot of people talk down to kids or ask them questions to pretend to make conversation, but never listen to the child’s answer. Not Nic. She listens when Lilly talks. She treats Lilly like the most important person in the room.

  Nic pretends to take a bite of the plastic hot dog and moans in appreciation. The sound zips through me, carrying with it a memory of my face between her legs, and goes straight to my cock.

  Lilly giggles. “You don’t really like that, do you? You just mean pretend, right?”

  “What? You don’t like hot dog and lemon sandwiches?” Nic asks.

  Lilly throws her head back to laugh and then spots me on the stairs. “Daddy, come play with us. Nic is so funny.”

  The smile falls from Nic’s face as she follows Lilly’s gaze and meets my eyes.

  I tear my gaze from hers and smile at my daughter. “I need to make some calls. Are you two okay?”

  “That means he’s going into his office and we can’t bother him,” Lilly says to Nic. “He has to do that sometimes because he’s a baby doctor.”

  Nic studies her plate and toys with the plastic lemon. “We’re fine.”

  I swallow hard. Asshole. “You can come get me if you need me, Lil.”

  I head back upstairs and to my office at the front of the house, where I’ve already pulled up the website for a nanny service. I feel like such a dick for making my mom go through the whole nanny search only to replace her choice the moment she arrives.

  Even then, I knew I should do it, but it was easier to let my mom take on that responsibility. I couldn’t think about bringing in a nanny because it meant thinking about Elena. But now I see my mistake.

  The problem isn’t just what Nic and I did last night. I never would have hired her if I’d met her during the interview process. I’m too attracted to her, and even if we hadn’t already messed around, that attraction would have been a problem. And fuck, since I saw her underwear when I walked in on her unpacking, I’m never going to be able to look at her without thinking about anything but the lace beneath her clothes.

  “You’re really a next-level creep when it comes to this girl, Jackson,” I mutter.

  I sink into my chair, wake up the computer, and stare at my partially completed request form on the screen. Guilt rips through me. Lilly has already connected with Nic, and I’m going to send her away.

  We’ll come up with an excuse. Lilly will understand. If anything, I should think of their connection as a reason to find Nic’s replacement sooner rather than later. I don’t want Lilly getting too attached to anyone.

  Do you have an age preference for your nanny?

  I scroll through the choices and click fifty-plus.

  Nicole

  There’s a soft knock on my door. When I open my eyes, I expect to see my apartment in Jeffe—the buttery yellow on the walls, the sun slanting in across my beaten wooden dresser. Instead, I’m disoriented, unsure where I am for a few sleepy moments.

  I’m in a big, soft bed, weighed down by a fluffy comforter, and the gray-blue walls around me aren’t familiar. It takes me a beat or two to click everything into place. Lilly. My new job. The most awkward first day ever. The sexy asshole.

  The lie.

  I blink at the clock. It’s 3:49 a.m.

  “Nic?” Ethan calls from the other side of the door.

  I sit up in bed. “Come in.”

  The door opens slowly, and Ethan takes a single step into my room. He’s dressed nicely in a shirt and tie and crisp black pants. “I just got called to the hospital. I’m sorry. I wanted to be here to help you with Lilly on your first day, but I doubt I’ll be back before you have to leave to get her to school.”

  “It’s fine.” I clutch the blanket in my lap and resist the instinct to cover my sleep clothes. When I changed for bed last night, I chose the least slutty of my honeymoon attire, but the lacy cami and shorts are hardly appropriate. Can he see? God, am I hoping he can or can’t?

  He called you an easy screw. It’s like my new mantra. If don’t-be-attracted-to-the-asshole mantras are a thing.

  I force myself to keep my eyes on him. “That’s why I’m here, right?”

  “Right.” His voice sounds rusty, like he just rolled out of bed too, though if I had to judge by his appearance alone, I’d guess he’d been up for hours. “You have the itinerary Mom gave you?”

  I nod. “And the directions to the school and her emergen
cy contacts. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Mom’s still here, so she can help too, but I know she has some meetings today. If you have questions, you can get me on my cell. Leave a voicemail, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

  I nod. He doesn’t need to apologize. Honestly, I’m way less nervous about tackling my first morning with Lilly now that her father won’t be looking over my shoulder. I can care for children. I can follow a simple itinerary for her day and get through the items on the household to-do list. This is what I did for three different summers in Alabama. I’d even say I’m good at it. Though, to be fair, I’ve never found it particularly difficult. “Got it.” I mentally urge him out of the room. What is it about him seeing me in bed that feels so intimate?

  He stays rooted to his spot. “Are you sleeping okay?” His gaze dips from my face and down to the bed, as if it might reveal the answer to his question.

  “Just fine.” It’s almost true. I don’t know how long I lay here last night thinking of Ethan downstairs and replaying our front-porch introduction, remembering his hands on me. Getting my brain to shut off is always the hardest part, but once it did, I was out like a light.

  “The bed’s okay?”

  “It’s great.”

  He doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll see you later, then?”

  “Sure. Have a good day.” Awkward.

  He backs out the door and pulls it shut as he goes.

  Only when the door clicks closed do I let myself look down and see what Ethan just saw. Under my lacy cami, my nipples are at full attention. They, apparently, don’t care that he’s an asshole.