The Wrong Kind of Love

by Lexi Ryan

  My heart pounds. “No fever,” I say, though I’m sure he already figured that out himself.

  “I could have come home from the conference to help you out. Shay said you were a total rock star.”

  “There was no reason for you to come home. I was fine until . . .” Until I wasn’t. He stares at me for a long time, and I nervously tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m going to get that shower and get dressed.”

  “Don’t push it, okay?” He reaches around me and grabs a bottle of water off the nightstand. “Drink this and about five more. You’re dehydrated.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He grunts. “Logic? And”—he sweeps his index finger across my bottom lip—“I can see it here.”

  See, Nic? He’s not looking at you in a sexual way. He’s looking at you because he’s a doctor and that’s what he does.

  I feel myself deflate but try not to show it. I’m being ridiculous.

  “Hydrate and your energy will come back faster.”

  “Yes, doctor.” I back out of the room, and once I hit the hallway, I hustle to the stairs to the bathroom, where I strip out of my grimy clothes and turn the shower to hot.

  While it warms, I brush my teeth for five minutes, because vomit is disgusting, and that’s how long it takes for my mouth to feel clean again. After I’m done flossing and using mouthwash, the mirror is completely steamed over.

  I step under the hot spray, all too aware that Ethan and I are alone in the house together until Lilly gets home. What is it about a surly man turning into a nurturer that’s so damn sexy?

  I distract myself from thoughts of Ethan and his sad eyes by making a list of the things I want to disinfect today and the supplies I’ll need to give the house a good scrubbing.

  When I finish the longest shower of my adult life, I pull on a pair of gray sweats and a long-sleeved black shirt. The energy I woke up with is fading fast, and I feel a little weak, but I ignore it and get to work.

  I start with the bathroom I share with Lilly. I deep-cleaned it yesterday, but it needs it again now. I’m scrubbing the base of the toilet with bleach water when I hear someone clear his throat behind me.

  I turn to see Ethan, his big arms folded over his chest.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “Cleaning.”

  He shakes his head and grabs the scouring pad from my hand. “Go read a book or watch TV or do something that doesn’t involve manual labor. I’ll clean the bathroom. And before you think about making some fancy dinner with your extra time, it’s already been taken care of.”

  Standing, I smooth down my pants and bite my lip. “Thanks. I’m just . . . I’m not very good at doing nothing.”

  “I noticed.” His eyes sweep over me. “Go rest, Nic. I need you to rest now so you can get well again. If you push it, you’ll just catch something else or have a rebound of the stomach flu.”

  I nod. His logic is sound. I can’t laze around in bed, though, so I head to the living room to pick a book from his bookshelves.

  I pull out a romance novel. I’ve gotten so used to Elena’s notes that I’m not surprised to discover a piece of paper folded inside, but it’s not the kind of note I was expecting.

  Elena,

  I can’t stop thinking about you. Come to me tomorrow after he leaves. You deserve happiness.

  -M

  With shaking hands, I put the note back and pick another book, trying not to think about what I read. Who’s M, and why was he writing notes to Ethan’s wife? And why did she leave the note in her book instead of throwing it away? Did she want Ethan to see it? Has he seen it?

  Maybe Ethan and I have more in common than I ever realized.

  “Did you find something?” Ethan asks behind me.

  I turn away from the bookshelf and give him a tentative smile. “I did.”

  I found more than I wanted to.

  Ethan

  “These candidates aren’t what I asked for.” I grip my phone tighter and glare at my computer. What’s the point in paying a company to help you find an employee if they can’t even follow simple directions?

  “Your highest priority was that the candidate be available to start within the month,” the woman from the agency says. “That limited our field drastically. Many candidates don’t want to move right before Christmas, especially for such short-term employment.”

  I bite back a growl. It’s not fair to take my frustration out on this woman, but the entire list of candidates is unacceptable. Too young, too uneducated, one who doesn’t speak English—how is she supposed to talk to my daughter?—and another who doesn’t drive. I suppose that one could teleport with Lilly to all of her activities.

  I hear clicking on her end of the line and tap my pen impatiently. Nic’s been here for almost a week, and I’m losing my mind. She’s so on top of everything, so easy with Lilly. So completely perfect for this job.

  Except she’s also really fucking sexy and sweet, and she makes me think I want things I can’t have.

  Last night, after I put Lilly to bed, I found Nic in the living room. She was curled up in the chair with a blanket and the novel she started after I caught her cleaning. She had a steaming cup of tea by her side and looked like she belonged there. I fucking miss that, I thought as I stared at her. I didn’t think I would. When things were their worst with Elena at the end, I thought I’d take any level of loneliness to simply escape my marriage. I didn’t think I’d miss it at all. But last night, looking at Nic like that woke some dark, long-dormant corner of my heart. I found myself aching for this thing I told myself I didn’t want again. Company. Companionship. Love.

  “Did you need me?” she asked when she caught my eye. She got to her feet before I could stop her. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Don’t leave.” I shook my head. “I mean, you’re not in my way, and I don’t need anything.” Except you. Except that mouth.

  Then I grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened the email the agency had sent me earlier that day. I was sure it would be as simple as picking the best of the best and arranging some interviews. Instead, there’s not a single candidate on the list who’s remotely acceptable.

  Now, Nic’s taken Lilly to her Saturday-morning swim lesson. I wanted to get this call out of the way while they were gone. Since we’re essentially going back to the drawing board, I’ll be lucky to arrange interviews before Thanksgiving, let alone get someone new in here. I wanted Lilly to have a chance to adjust to the new nanny before Christmas. It’s bad enough that her nana won’t be here, but I’m afraid she’s becoming attached to Nic so quickly that she’ll melt down when she finds out Nic is leaving before Christmas too.

  Am I fucking this up? Should I just keep Nic on until February, like we planned? It’d be one thing if she wasn’t a good fit, but she’s better than I could have imagined. Except for the part where you like the way she looks sleeping in your bed and you woke up this morning with a raging hard-on after dreaming about her.

  “Sir?” the woman at the agency says. “Are you still there?”

  I push away my thoughts. “I’m here.”

  “Sorry about that. Perhaps you’d be willing to consider extending the term to a year? It’s the relocation that makes the short-term contract difficult, and since I don’t have any nannies in your area who fit your requirements, a longer contract would certainly open up the field.”

  Sighing, I lean back in my chair and drag a hand over my face. The plan was always to find someone we could transition into a long-term position if it worked out, but the idea of committing to a year without spending any significant time with the person is brutal. “I don’t want to commit to room and board for a year in case it’s not a good match, but what if the year’s salary is guaranteed even if we part ways before that?”

  More tapping. “That’ll help,” the woman says. “I’ll be in touch when I have more candidates.”

  “Thank you.” I end the call and blow out a breath. If they don’
t come up with anything good this time, I’ll ask Nic if she’d be willing to stay on. I can find a new nanny who can start when Mom gets back in town. Hell, maybe I could just scrap the search and have Mom head it up again when she returns. She was spot-on with Nic. She keeps the house clean, and if the dinners she made Tuesday and the leftovers in the fridge are any indication, she’s a phenomenal cook. But most importantly, she’s great with Lilly. She manages that difficult balance between playful and still being in charge. She’s the perfect choice for us.

  Except for the part where I can’t stop thinking about getting her in my bed.

  It’s a pity my dick’s ruining this for everyone involved.

  “Daddy!” Lilly shouts from the kitchen. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear them come in. “I got a postcard from Nana!”

  I head to the kitchen and find Lilly dancing around with her postcard and Nic at the coffee pot. “You’re worse than Shay with that stuff,” I say.

  She grins and pours herself a cup. “Want some?”

  I shake my head. I’m about to say no thank you, but Nic takes a sip and moans, and the words get caught in my throat. Her hands are wrapped around the cup and her eyes are closed, and fuck. I did this to myself that first night. When I walked away from her, I thought we’d see each other again. I promised myself we’d get to finish what we started, and now my body wants me to make good on that promise.

  “Daddy, why are you looking at Nic like that?”

  Nic’s eyes fly open and meet mine. My thoughts must be written all over my face because her cheeks bloom red.

  I tear my eyes off her and turn to Lilly. “Like what, sweetie?”

  “Like you’re thinking really hard about something,” she says. She skips over to me and hands me the postcard, apparently not interested enough in my ogling to wait for an answer. “It’s from New York City!”

  I look at the postcard that shows the Statue of Liberty and flip it over to read the back.

  Lilly, my big adventure begins here. I hope you are having a great week! I miss you already!

  Love, Nana

  “Where are you going to put it?” I ask, handing it back to Lilly.

  “Nic said we could buy a photo album and put all of Nana’s postcards in it so they’re safe and don’t get lost. Isn’t that a great idea?”

  I turn to Nic, whose cheeks are a shade lighter than the last time I allowed my eyes to roam in her direction. “It is. Really great. Thank you.”

  “How long until Thanksgiving?” Lilly asks, pulling my attention back to her. “That’s when Nana and I get to video-chat!”

  “Twelve days,” I say. “Are you excited to go to the cabin?”

  Lilly nods enthusiastically, then turns to Nic. “You’re going to love the cabin! It has tons of bedrooms and a pool table and the best sledding hills, and everyone is there!”

  “Lil, Nic gets Thanksgiving off. She might want to spend it with her family.”

  Nic flinches—is that at the mention of her family, or the time off? Maybe she thought she’d be replaced by Thanksgiving. Maybe she’s already lined up a new job . . .

  Shit. I practically fired her on her first day, so she’s probably already looking. She’s so overqualified that she won’t have any trouble at all finding something.

  “No,” Lilly says, tugging on Nic’s arm. “You don’t have plans, do you, Nic?”

  Nic’s face softens as she looks down at Lilly. “I don’t have plans yet, sweetie, but your Thanksgiving plans are for family.”

  “They’re not just for family.” Lilly shakes her head. “Uncle Jake brings Ava all the time, and sometimes Uncle Levi’s friends come too. Nana says there’s room for everyone.” She turns her sweet, pleading eyes on me. “Doesn’t she, Daddy?”

  “There is room for everyone,” I say dutifully. It’s practically our family creed. “But like I said, Nic has Thanksgiving off.”

  “Please come to the cabin,” Lilly says. “It can still be your day off. Everyone else will do the cooking, and I promise I’ll let you sleep in. I want to show you the kids’ room. I’m the only grandkid right now, so I get it to myself, but it’s full of bunk beds, and when I’m bigger, Daddy says I can have a sleepover there with my friends.”

  “We’ll see,” Nic says gently.

  Lilly’s shoulders sag. “That means no.”

  “It means I need to think about it and see how my friends are spending the holiday.” She smiles and chucks Lilly under the chin. “It means I need to talk to your dad and look at my calendar before I make any decisions.”

  “Okay.” Lilly folds her arms. She’s at that age when she doesn’t like ending any conversation without getting the answer she wants, but she’s also old enough that she knows throwing a fit won’t help.

  “Have you drawn a picture for your nana yet today?” Nic asks.

  “Eeep!” Lilly rushes to the pantry where we keep her box of craft stuff. “I almost forgot.”

  “You can work on it while I make lunch,” Nic calls after her.

  “Okay,” Lilly says. She’s already on her way to the living room with a notebook and a box of crayons, and just like that, Nic and I are alone together.

  Nic meets my eyes for a beat, and just when I think she’s going to say something more, she turns around and starts gathering items from the fridge. “Do you want to join us for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup?”

  “Sounds good.” I expect her to pull out cans of soup, but instead, she grabs a big container from the fridge. “Is that homemade tomato soup?” I ask.

  She grins at me as she carries it to the stove and transfers the contents to a pan. “I made it early this morning. It’s tomato bisque, actually, but don’t tell Lilly. She insisted that soup is good and bisque is gross, so we’re just going to call it soup.” She stirs the soup and turns on the gas to warm it.

  “No wonder Mom was so insistent on hiring you.” I shake my head in wonder. “You’re the whole package, Nic.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” she says softly. “I like to cook.”

  “But you barely eat,” I say.

  She shrugs and drops her gaze down her body. “I eat plenty. I’m not in any danger of wasting away.”

  “You’re perfect,” I say before I can stop myself. She meets my eyes and blinks, and I drag a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you are. You’re gorgeous. I hope you don’t feel like you need to lose weight. Your body is . . .” I swallow hard. “You know.”

  She makes me tongue-tied and fumbling when I’ve always found it easy to flirt with women. Maybe that’s the difference. I’m not trying to flirt. I sincerely want her to know how gorgeous she is.

  She avoids my gaze and stays silent, further evidence that I’m more awkward than charming when it comes to her.

  “And now I’m the asshole boss who says inappropriate things to his employee.”

  She laughs and pulls a loaf of bread from the bin. “You’re fine, and thank you. That’s nice, especially coming from someone whose body is also . . . you know.” Her pink cheeks grow darker and she avoids my eyes. She’s so fucking cute when she’s embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry about that Thanksgiving conversation. I really didn’t mean to put you in an awkward situation. You have four days off while we’re at the cabin, and you can spend that time however you want.” She told Lilly that she needed to see what her friends were doing, but made no mention of family. I take another breath as she slices cheddar cheese from the block. “You won’t go home and spend it with your parents?”

  She stills her knife mid-slice, hesitating a beat before finishing. “No.”

  I wait a beat, hoping she might fill the silence with some detail about herself, but she doesn’t. “I guess you probably want to use the time to look for a new job.”

  Her careful expression falters. She puts down the knife and turns to me. “You want me gone that soon?”

  “No. Not at all. Actually . . .” I shove my hands int
o my pockets. “I had to call the agency this morning because none of the candidates they sent me were acceptable. I was hoping you could hold off your search until we find someone.”

  “I wasn’t planning to leave you in the lurch.”

  “I couldn’t blame you if you did.” I take a step forward. I shouldn’t, but I do. One step, then two more. I take another step so I’m standing right in front of her and she’s looking up at me through her lashes. “You don’t owe me anything. I was a jerk to you the second you walked in my door, and you responded by throwing yourself into this job. I don’t deserve all you’re doing for me.”

  “I made a promise,” she says. “I’m just trying to follow through.”

  “I screwed this up, Nic. I take responsibility for that.” I fist my hands at my sides because I want to touch her and she’s right here. So close, so warm, so sweet. “I’m the one who missed the meeting when you came to visit last month. I’m the one who isn’t comfortable having any personal history with my daughter’s caregiver.” I swallow and release my fists so I can tilt her face up to mine. Once my hand is on her jaw, I instinctively slide it into her hair. “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting things from you that you’re not here to give me.”

  Her gaze drops to my mouth. “I didn’t think you wanted anything from me anymore.”

  “I’m trying not to, but I keep thinking about . . .” Don’t finish that sentence. I flick my thumb over her earlobe and down the column of her neck.

  She closes her eyes and releases a shaky breath. “About what we left unfinished,” she says for me.

  “Daddy!” Lilly calls from the living room. “How do you spell forever?”

  It’s Nic who moves first. She takes my hand from her neck and steps back. “I won’t look for another job until you find a replacement.”

  Relief sweeps through me—too much relief—followed by dread at the thought of searching for someone suitable. Or is that dread at the thought of her inevitable departure?