My phone chimes with a text and I pick it up. On the screen is a picture of Milly, my daughter. She’s only two years old now, but she’s wearing a pair of Celeste’s high heels. She has bright red lipstick all over her face and a string of pearls around her neck that almost reaches the floor. She’s wearing a big, proud smile as her blonde ringlets fall into her face. I chuckle to myself and set the phone down when a knock comes from the door.
With a deep breath, I stand and move to answer it. Just get through this last interview, I tell myself. Maybe I should be looking into daycare rather than a nanny. I turn the knob and pull open the door. On the other side stands a girl that couldn’t be any older than eighteen, if that. She’s short, only coming up to my chin, and she’s tiny—I bet I could bench press her. Surely, she doesn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Her green eyes find mine and they’re wide with fear. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled away from her face and hanging down her back in soft curls. Her ivory skin is perfect, with freckles kissing her nose and cheeks. I almost expect to find her selling Girl Scout cookies.
“Can I help you?” I feel my brows pull together as I look her over again: long, shapely legs, narrow waist, and thin neck.
She holds out her hand. “I’m Brennan Crawford. I’m here for the nanny interview.” She offers up a sweet but nervous smile, showing me her perfectly straight, white teeth.
I look her up and down, confused. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” I rub my hand over my scruffy jaw as I take her in.
Her hand falls back to her side. “Twenty-four. It should say that in my application.” She crosses her arms over her chest, causing her breasts to press together and giving me just a glimpse of cleavage. Her skin is like peaches and cream: smooth and milky.
“It did,” I agree with a nod. “It’s just that you look much younger.” Fuck, I feel like I could be arrested just for checking her out.
Her smile is back in place. “I get that a lot. I’m tiny compared to most women my age and I’m not big on makeup.” She shrugs one shoulder. It’s only now that I notice the natural beauty of her face. It’s not covered in a thick, off-colored foundation. Her eyes aren’t lined in a deep black. It appears she’s only wearing a shiny lip gloss and maybe a touch of mascara.
Already, I’m wondering what the point of this interview is, but I know I have to go through with it. I mean, Child Protective Services will probably be called if the two of them go out in public alone together. The nosey townspeople will think some worthless parent let his older kid babysit. I shake my head at the thought and open the door wider.
“Come on in,” I mumble, stepping back and allowing her to walk through.
She steps inside and as she walks past, I get a whiff of lavender, vanilla, and mint. The mixture is sweet and has my mouth almost watering. She sits in the nearest chair, and I take my place in front of her on the couch with the coffee table that’s littered with applications between us.
“So, tell me about yourself.” I lean back and cross my ankle over my knee, giving her my full attention. The corners of her plump lips turn upward. The dark pink of them seem even more vibrant compared to the creaminess of her skin. My eyes automatically lock on her lips and stay there.
She sits up straighter and clasps her hands together in her lap. “Well, I was born and raised here. After high school, I went to college as a piano performance.” She giggles. “I know, pretty useless, but I just love singing and playing piano. I was hoping to get a job as the music teacher here in town. However, I wasn’t given the position, which has led me here. I’m an only child, but I babysat in high school, so I have plenty of experience. I also have a long list of references if you want those.” She begins digging around in her purse and pulls out an envelope, handing it over.
I lean forward and take it but drop it onto the table to look over later. “And you’re aware that this job is full-time, correct? Monday through Friday, seven a.m. until five or six p.m.? You’re okay with that? It wouldn’t interfere with whatever it is a girl your age does?” I wave my hand in her direction.
Her eyes shoot daggers my way, a tiny wrinkle forming between her perfectly arched brows—apparently, I’ve offended her. “I’m not sure what you were trying to imply there, but I know the hours and I assure you that I’m up for it.” She squares her shoulders, causing her breasts to poke out a tiny bit more—yes, I notice—and she raises her chin in defiance.
She’s calling me out and a part of me likes it. A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth but I hold it back. “I wasn’t trying to imply anything. It’s just that you’re young. I’m sure you have a full life already. I mean, friends, boyfriends, dates, and parties…” I think back to when I was her age and it was nothing but endless parties and fun.
She straightens her tight, white blouse. “All my friends already have full-time jobs, and I broke things off with my boyfriend when I moved back home. Right now, I just need a job so I can get out of my parents’ place. I’m a typical student that ended up back at home when college ended. I just want my own space, my own life.” Her green eyes focus on mine and I can see the desperation in them.
I nod. “Okay then. Tell me what you would do here. I’m looking for someone I can trust. Someone that will not only take care of my daughter, but will also take care of the house while I’m gone. I don’t want to work twelve hours a day and have to come home to cook and clean.”
She nods. “I’m more than willing to clean up while I’m here. In my previous babysitting jobs, I made all the meals. I cleaned the house, did the laundry, ran errands, and I always tried to have projects to do with the kids. I’m not a ‘here’s an iPad, leave me alone’ kind of babysitter. I do projects that help develop children’s motor skills and teaches them at the same time.”
I admit, on paper, she’s damn near perfect. However, she seems so innocent, so young. She can’t possibly know what she’s doing. She doesn’t have any children of her own. And my daughter is only two, so she needs constant attention. I know how young people are nowadays. They spend too much time on their phones and social media to pay attention to anything else. It feels like hiring her would be taking a chance with my daughter’s life.
“Would you be okay with random drug screenings?” This is the question that chased most of the others away. Even if they weren’t addicts, most of them liked to dabble in things once in a while. Her mouth drops open in surprise. “Um, sure,” she says, wrinkling her brow.
“I know it seems odd, but this is my daughter and I can never be too careful. I don’t allow drugs of any kind in my home. I don’t allow people that I don’t know to be around my daughter, which means no friends or boyfriends are to come over when you are here.”
She nods and holds out her hands towards me, palms up. “I completely understand.”
“One more thing: how do you know Celeste? She seemed to think you’d be perfect for this job.”
She smiles. “She’s my daddy’s lawyer. She’s always coming out to the farm for their meetings and she usually ends up staying for dinner. She’s really sweet.”
“Thank you for interviewing. I will call some of these references and will get back to you.”
She offers up a smile, but it’s not the same as before. Standing up, she holds out her hand. I finally reach forward and shake it. The moment I touch that soft skin of hers, my hand burns and tingles. The numbness moves up my arm, drops down to my stomach, and then shoots to my groin. My dick twitches with excitement.
“I’ll show myself out,” she says, spinning and heading for the door.
When it closes and I’m alone, my head falls forward. “What the fuck was that shit?” I ask my man parts. They don’t respond —not that I expected them too— and I let out a long breath as I throw myself back on the couch. I close my eyes as I try to release the stress built up inside of me. My body’s reaction to her touch confuses me. It’s been nearly two years since my wife’s passing, and I haven’t been with a woman since.
I haven’t even thought about having sex with another woman. The only woman I’ve ever loved, the only woman I’ve ever wanted, is gone. I’ve vowed to never move on in any way whatsoever. When a need in my body arises, I take care of it myself. Sure, I miss being intimate. I miss the soft touch of a woman. I miss that overwhelming feeling that consumes me when I slide into her, but I know it will never be the same with any other woman.
There’s no use in trying.
And I know one other thing: Brennan Crawford will not get this job. No way. No how.
I grab my keys and head for the door. Climbing behind the wheel, I start toward Drake’s. Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the gravel driveway, dust floating around the old truck.
I climb out and Drake steps out of the barn. “What’s up?” he asks, motioning toward the barn.
I follow him in and he hands me a beer. I sit it aside. “How was Milly?”
He nods. “Good. She’s always good, and Celeste loves watching her.”
“You two need to get busy and make one of your own,” I reply.
He laughs. “Nah, it’s not the time for us yet. There’s no way I could raise a child by myself every three months. And I don’t want to make things harder for Celeste. She’s traveling too much to handle a pregnancy and a baby right now.”
“So marry her already and move her in full-time.” Seems like the perfect idea. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about this nanny nonsense.
“We’re just not there yet. I mean, I love her, she knows that, and I’d love to marry her, but now isn’t the time. We’re still all over the place. She’s traveling every three months, and when she leaves again, I’m planning on going with her.”
“You? In California?” I can’t hold back my laughter.
He chuckles. “I know. Seems fucked up, right?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell I’ll do there, but I can’t live without her. I can’t go three months without seeing her, touching her. So, until she makes up her mind on where she sees our future, we’ll be going back and forth.”
“Wait, you’re letting her decide where you end up?”
He nods. “That’s right. I don’t care if I’m here or there, as long as she’s with me. If she wants a city life, that’s what we’ll have. If she decides she wants a quiet country life, we’ll be here.”
I shake my head. “You got it bad.”
He laughs. “Come on. Let’s go see how those girls of ours are doing.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me toward the house. A part of me envies him. I want that life again. A life where my wife is alive. A life where my daughter has her mother. A life where I’m actually happy. It’ll never happen. I might as well not even think of it. It will only make me feel twice as worse as I already do.
Two
Brennan
“HOW’D the interview go?” my mom asks when I walk back into the house.
I drop my purse onto the counter and pour myself a cup of coffee. I let out a long breath. “Not very good,” I answer. “Something seemed off about it.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table. She pats the space across from her, wanting me to sit with her.
I take my cup across the room and seat myself in front of her. “I don’t know exactly. It just felt weird, you know? It felt like he didn’t want me to have the job. He said things like, ‘are you sure a full-time job can fit in your schedule of friends, boyfriends, and parties?’”
Mom giggles. “I mean, it is strange that a woman of your age wants to take a job as a nanny. That’s usually something women my age do to make a little money on the side of their social security.” She flashes me a smile.
I shrug. “I mean, I guess. But it’s not like this town has a whole lot of options. The job I wanted didn’t want me. And I refuse to get a job making minimum wage at the grocery store. I’m a college-educated woman. I just want to be able to afford my own place.”
“Well, honey, it’s probably for the best. You know how your daddy feels about the Slade family anyhow.”
I roll my eyes. I know how everyone in this town feels about the Slade family.
“You know, there is an opening at my doctor’s office. The receptionist quit last week to stay home and take care of her sick mother.”
I guess that would be fine. “Can I apply online?” I ask, suddenly full of hope again.
“I believe so. Why don’t you go check it out while I get started on supper?”
I take my cup of coffee into my room and sit at my desk. As I’m pulling up the website, my phone rings. It’s Celeste.
“How’d it go? Did you get the job?” Her voice is full of excitement. I hear a child squealing in the background.
“I’m pretty sure he hated me,” I answer.
She sucks in a loud breath. “What? No way! Why do you think that?”
I tell her about the interview, but she blows off my worries. “Trust me, that is just Colton. You’re his only option. I saw the rest of those applications. Milly, no, no. Don’t jump on the couch like that. You’ll fall and get hurt.”
I press my lips together. “Ummm, I don’t know, Celeste. I don’t know if I even want the job now. He’s kind of an ass. I mean, it’s natural to be protective of your kid, but the things he said, the way he said it… And I just found out that the doctor’s office is hiring.”
“No! Please, take this job, Brennan. You’re the best person for Milly. I just know it.” There’s a lot of background noise. It sounds like she’s wrestling a bear.
“He hasn’t even offered me the position yet,” I point out. “And I doubt he will.”
“He will. I know he will,” Celeste says, sounding very sure of herself.
“I don’t know, Celeste. I’ll have to think about it. I’m not sure he liked me very much, and I don’t want a job that makes me feel uncomfortable every day.”
“Trust me, Brennan. This is the perfect job for you.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up the phone without another word. I close my laptop and move to lay down on the bed. My eyes flutter closed, and I see Colton. I see his chocolatey brown eyes as they focus on mine. I see his dark hair that he had pulled back into the smallest ponytail I’ve ever seen with a dirty cap on his head. I can see his thick, tanned, tattooed arms and that scruffy beard on his face. He’s a big man, and he looks just as intimidating as he sounds. I can see the hate his eyes hold—for me or for life in general, I’m not sure, but it’s there and easy to notice. The way he looked at me when he opened the door steals the air from my lungs and causes my heart to pound in my chest, but I’m not sure why. Everything about him is exciting and confusing all at the same time.
“Brennan, looks like you got some company, hun,” my mom calls out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I sit up and push myself to my feet, wondering who it could be. I walk through the house and to the back door. Standing on the back porch, I look toward the big red barn and toward the driveway where a familiar blue car sits. My shoulders fall when Nate climbs out.
I cross my arms over my chest and head in his direction.
He smiles wide. “Hey, babe.”
“What are you doing here, Nate?” I ask, looking up as he towers over me.
“I missed you,” he says, hands finding my hips as he pulls me to his chest.
My eyes flash to the kitchen window that I’m sure my mama is looking out of right now. I take his hand in mine and lead him into the barn for some privacy.
“Nate, we broke up. You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him, turning to face him.
“I know, but I missed you. And the only reason we broke up was because of the distance.”
“The distance is still there,” I remind him. “Unless they’ve moved Montana closer and nobody told me.”
He pulls me to his chest again, his lips finding mine. At first, I feel nothing. Things are over between us. I haven’t seen him since we left college two months ago. We’ve talked
on the phone a few times, but without the physical contact, feelings drifted away quickly for me. But as his tongue moves with mine, something inside of me comes alive. His hands squeeze my hips and move around to my ass. Something happens in my head because, suddenly, it’s not Nate I’m kissing. It’s him, the stranger I met today, the one that looked at me with hate and annoyance. The one I shouldn’t be thinking about but am.
“Whose car is that?” my dad says, causing me to push Nate away.
“Come on.” I take Nate’s hand and lead him back outside. My dad is getting ready to step into the barn.
“Dad, this is Nate, a friend from school. Nate, this is my dad.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Nate says, shaking my dad’s hand.
Dad grunts but shakes his hand anyway. “Friend, you say?” He starts pulling off his work gloves, shoving them into his back pocket.
Nate’s eyes flash to mine and then back to my dad. “Well, sir, to be totally honest, Brennan and I dated. We were together for the last year. We only broke up because school was over and we both had to go back home.”
I feel my shoulders slump. I never mentioned to my parents that I had been dating anyone. My family is very traditional. They would’ve insisted on meeting him. Nate and I aren’t destined to be together, so I didn’t feel the need to mention him.
“And where exactly are you from?” Dad asks.
“Montana, sir,” Nate answers, straightening his back as he slides his hands into his jean pockets.
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