by Bria Quinlan
I nodded in sympathy. They were a killer if you weren’t used to them.
“How long-term should we be planning for?” Because, this job could put me to the start-looking-for-my-cottage zone of savings, and I could move into Sanity Land.
“I don’t know. But I can’t see her just disappearing for years. She could be back tomorrow.” Tim gave me a weak smile, still apparently in shock that he was in charge of Gus. “But I need to be able to work. And that includes being in the office several days a week. An experienced nanny with your background was the only thing that made sense.”
Yup. Totally made sense.
“So, what else do you need to make this work?” Because an uncle taking over as a parent was going to be a big adjustment. “You have this job you have to get back to in Atlanta?” I prompted.
“Yes.” He nodded, almost visually putting himself back on track. “I mean, it’s the type of job that I can do better there, but for a lot of it I just need a desk and a computer.”
“What exactly is it you do?” Because, if I understood the client, I’d understand his needs for support. And I was trying to think of jobs that didn’t involve agents and managers and PR people and security and whatever strange addition came with the type of celebrity different people chased after.
He shrugged. “I’m the numbers guy.”
I looked at him, a small smile fighting to break out. Tim—cute, geeky, glasses-wearing needs-a-trim Tim—was an accountant?
How hot was that? I all but fanned myself. The guy used his brain and worked with numbers and held down a job long enough to be necessary in his office.
“That’s so cool.”
“Really?” Tim looked at me as if I might be a little nuts.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” I tried to dim my smile a bit. I didn’t want to be a stalker for hire. But really. He was too adorable for words. “I mean—”
I looked down to see what was suddenly stopping the cooing I’d grown accustomed to. Gus had a shiny men’s watch stuck in his mouth, a gurgle sliding around it with a fair amount of drool.
“No. That’s yucky. Yucky,” I said as I pulled it away from him. I wiped it on the baby towel draped over the side of the chair and tried to moderate my tone for the adult lecture part of this situation. “Tim, he can’t be allowed to play with things like this. It has tiny parts he can swallow, and watches, keys, phones—well, they’re germy.”
“I—” Tim glanced down at his own wrist, then scowled at Gus as if he’d been set up. “I didn’t give it to him. He’s a Houdini. Every time I think I’ve got things nailed down, he has them in his mouth. Germy is bad. I’ve been trying to keep him germ-free, but he’s a magnet.”
I smiled at him. New parents were bad enough, but an uncle? Poor guy.
“You’ll get used to it. I’m just glad you didn’t give it to him. Remember, tiny pieces are deadly.”
“Right.” He nodded and ran his hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “No tiny pieces.”
Tim stood, obviously trying to shake off the watch situation as I handed it back to him, drool and all.
I sat, Gus on my lap, looking up at the adorably befuddling accountant before me, thinking that he was the absolutely best thing I’d seen in forever. I kind of loved that his hair didn’t fall magically back into place like every over-coiffed guy I’d worked for before.
“You don’t have any tattoos, do you?” I asked before I had time to stop myself.
“Um, no.” Tim’s attention came back to me before I could make a run for it. “Do you?”
“Oh, well…yes.” I bounced Gus and tried to look like that was totally typical conversation to be having with your new boss.
“Oh. Okay.” His gaze locked on me as if he was suddenly trying to piece a puzzle together. But, without Google and some fancy Google-fu, I was a puzzle with a few pieces missing.
“Why don’t you show me Gus’s room, then mine, and I’ll unpack and start making a plan for the week.” I rose, giving him my most reassuring nanny smile. “You can figure out your work schedule and get your contact information for me to put on the fridge, and we’ll see what’s what.”
“Right. What’s what.”
Tim turned and headed toward the door. I was woman enough to admit my gaze might have dropped to check out the rearview of those khakis as he went. And, I was even more surprised to find that I liked what I saw. He may be an accountant, but he was definitely carrying around a nice, tight behind behind him.
I squelched that grin I felt coming on. This was a job. He was my boss.
Tim seemed far too decent a guy to make a move on the nanny—even if she wanted him to. Which, again. Job.
As I bounced Gus on my hip and headed up the winding staircase Tim motioned to, that was going to have to be okay. Normal meant playing by the rules, and I was really looking forward to a world where rules ruled.
CHAPTER THREE
TIM
Tim’s first thought when he opened the door had been, Thank goodness the nanny’s here.
His second thought had been, When did nannies get so hot?
Minx, a name he was having a bit of trouble adjusting to since she looked more like a Delilah or Jasmine, had swept in, teased him out of his bad mood, taken Gus, and was already getting their lives in order.
He glanced at the baby. That kid was more than a Houdini. He was a safecracker, jail breaker, pickpocket, and potential blackmailer all rolled into one. Tim wouldn’t rule out that he hadn’t seen a toy levitate its way across the room earlier…and right into Gus’s mouth. No matter what Tim did to try to keep things out of his mouth, they magically appeared there. It was like the little guy had magnets on the tips of his fingers. And the germs.
Oh man, now he could only think of all the germs he'd let get inside his little nephew.
This uncling thing was no joke. How parents did it 24/7 for eighteen-plus years was beyond him.
He was just glad the kid wasn’t on two feet yet—although, the way he crawled, Tim should probably get him a cape. The baby could go from zero to Mach 6 in under two seconds. One second he’s there, the next…not so much.
POOF. Disappearing baby. Crawling faster than the speed of uncles everywhere.
Tim felt himself take a huge breath as he followed Minx up the stairs, trying very hard not to study her very nice rear end as he did. It was just as neat and compact as she was. He was betting some nice squats went into the shaping of that rear. He glanced up at where Gus peeked over her shoulder, giving him a look that said, I see you checking out the nanny. Back off, bud. She’s mine.
Lucky Gus.
Minx had been pretty much the opposite of what he’d expected. He’d seen both Mary Poppins and Mrs. Doubtfire. He expected something closer to one of those. He’d also experienced nannies at their worst, so the fact that she was kind and professional was a plus. He’d had to give himself a pep talk before she’d arrived that no matter how hard it was, if she was a fruitcake or in any way harsh with Gus, she was out.
They’d go back to man-caving it while he figured out how to raise a baby until Willow got herself together.
But instead, he’d opened the door to a cute little power package of a whirlwind who swept in and set up shop—no funny business…except that tattoo thing.
“And you and I are going to be fast friends, aren’t we, Gus?” she went on above him, a constant stream of chatter that kept Gus burbling at her while Tim focused on more important things.
Like where her tattoo was? What type of tattoo would a girl named Minx have? He considered something with a strong motif, like a phoenix from the ashes potential. She didn’t seem like she’d be on to just get a little butterfly and call it good. It would have to be something memorable and important. He scanned the hem of her T-shirt, waiting for it to lift a bit so he could check for tattoos on her lower back.
“So—” Minx stopped at the top of the stairs, obviously unsure which direction to head.
“Um, yea
h. This way.” Tim nodded his head toward Gus’s room and gave himself a good shake to get rid of the nonsense he was building in his mind. It was time to get in the game and leave the nanny to do her job.
Gus deserved to have a woman who was totally focused on him and who would keep him safe, happy, and healthy.
And Tim was going to make sure he got that.
CHAPTER FOUR
MINX
In the average household, the majority of slip-and-fall injuries are women.
Gus’s room was not what I would have called the dream nursery.
Sure, it had everything it needed, but it obviously wasn’t put together months in advance with love and excitement. It made me wonder just how long he and Willow lived here before she took off to find his daddy.
“This is Gus’s room.” Tim stood in the door as I walked around, checking it for safety, security, and ease.
It had everything, it just felt—not specific. Like it could have been for any baby ever.
“There’s a closet there.” Tim pointed to a door in the corner, then to one on the other side. “And that is to a shared bathroom. Your room is on the other side. I doubt there’ll be a lot of arguments over shower time. Gus is pretty easygoing about that kind of thing.”
I turned and smiled at Tim, surprised when he all but stepped back.
“Wow, it wasn’t that funny.”
I think I was going to like accountant humor. No need to feel like at any minute someone was going to puke or be sexually assaulted or flash a body part I didn’t want to see.
“You wouldn’t believe the things my former clients passed off as humor.”
“Oh, well. I’m glad the bar is low.” He gave me that sweet grin, and I couldn’t help but stand there and smile back, completely dumbstruck by his mix of friendliness and that very fine behind. “Do you want to check out your room?”
He pushed the bathroom door open, and I froze.
It was gorgeous. Typically something left for the client. A walk-in shower with a waterfall system and a jet soaking tub. It all looked out over a lovely garden, with no other windows facing it.
“This is your bathroom. And,” he swung the far door open, “this is your room.”
I followed him through to the loveliest room I’d ever had.
It was all in shades of pale green, with a forest motif. The bed was a queen and sat high, snug in the middle of the space with so many pillows decorating it, I wanted to hand Gus over and nosedive into the coziness.
I walked through the room, trying not to touch everything, but was so ridiculously giddy over all this space for just me. This plush, beautiful feminine space that wasn’t a hotel room or a small square of a cubicle room in an attic or over a garage.
“Is it okay?” Tim asked, sounding a bit worried.
I turned, flashing him what I was sure was one of my happiest smiles. “It’s perfect. I love it.”
“Oh. Good.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around, obviously a bit confused about what I loved so much. “I’ll help you bring your stuff in, and you can get settled.”
“Actually,” I tried not to blush. I didn’t want Tim to realize how insane my life had been but figured being upfront was probably best. “Right now, that’s all I have.”
“Just that duffel bag?” He nodded, looking a little panicked.
I nodded, realizing that was an odd way to show up for a long-term gig.
“I’m not planning on taking off on you or anything,” I rushed to assure him as I sat down on the bed and let Gus roll back and forth, sticking his little baby feet in his mouth, to his ever-loving joy. “My last job ended suddenly when my boss was…um, fired”—READ: taken in by the FBI— “and my clothes haven’t been sent on yet.”
“They just let you go and kept your clothes?” This seemed shocking to him, as if it wasn’t an everyday occurrence in nannyland.
“Gigs sometimes end suddenly.” I shrugged. Because, what was I going to say?
I just lost my job because I’d been taking care of the child of a religious sect that had been declared a cult but hadn’t left because I feared for the child’s safety and sanity?
Yeah.
No.
He frowned down at the carpet, as if it had something to say about this. Finally, he looked up to where I was sitting, one finger grasped by Gus’s little hand, and nodded. “We need to get you some things. You can’t just live out of that duffel.”
He headed toward the door purposefully and turned back. “Grab whatever it is we need to make this a baby-friendly trip, and we’ll head to the store.”
I watched him stalk out of the room, obviously on a mission, and couldn’t help but smile. I really liked his take-charge attitude.
Of course, if he wasn’t already prepared for outings, he had no idea what a baby trip could be like. I picked Gus up and headed back into his room to get his go-gear ready. I slid a little hat and jacket on him, found some matching shoes, and headed for the stairway, baby bag in hand.
At the door, Tim was wrestling with the pop-out carriage attachment that became a car seat—when done correctly, that is. When it flung itself open, Tim hopped back as Gus cheered him on.
“I’ve been afraid to go anywhere since my last run-in with the car seat.” He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m not sure how to get the carriage thing to work with the car seat thing.”
“Not a problem. That’s what I’m here for.” I looked at the stroller and the car seat and did some quick math. “Why don’t we set it up in my car then since he’ll most likely be riding with me usually?”
“Oh. Right. Good.” Tim nodded and stood there, looking even more confused.
“Soooo…you can go get the base out of your car and bring it around front?” I assumed his car was in the garage since I hadn’t seen it in the drive.
“Right. Yes.” He turned to run and get it and tripped over the baby bag.
As he did, diapers and bottles flew everywhere, cushioning his landing—or maybe making it that much more excruciating.
“Oh my gosh!” I rushed through the front door, hoping I hadn’t already killed him by accident. “Tim, I’m so sorry.”
I bent over, letting Gus sit on the floor as I checked the bump where I feared Tim had hit his head on the banister. Gus sat, watching us as if he knew this was not the time to be playing around. But, as I glanced his way, he didn’t cry or get upset. It was surprising how calm he was since I’d reacted so extremely.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again as Tim sat up. “It’s not like me to leave things in the way. I could have sworn I tucked that against the wall when I set it down.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just almost killed my new boss. This was a disaster. I was going to be sent packing before I had anything to pack. And, it wasn’t like me. I was used to walking unfamiliar halls with a kid in my arms. Everything got tucked out of the way.
I stuffed everything back in the bag and set it aside before picking Gus back up.
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I’m not known for my grace.”
“Oh.” I sat back on my heels, a hand slipping to Gus’s back where he rocked, watching us. “Are you sure?”
I waited for the tantrum—the adult one. But Tim just sat up and rubbed his forehead.
“Yup. We better head out, before I accidentally kill myself.” He gave me a grin and picked Gus up, leaving me free to hoist myself off the ground. “Good thing you’re driving, right?”
He handed me the baby and turned to head toward the back of the house where the garage door was—when he went right over the bag again.
Tim lay sprawled on the floor, glaring at the bag.
I stared at it, then him, completely horrified. “I put that aside. I’m sure I did. I’m so sorry.”
Gus started giggling and clapping his hands as if this was the most fun ever.
Tim did not look like he was having quite as much fun. He waved me off when he went to get up. “Don’t come any c
loser. I might accidentally kill us all.”
I stood, still waiting for the emotional fallout.
Tim stood, picking up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m not letting this thing out of my sight.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
When I realized that was the end of that, that there wasn’t going to be any big reprimand, I headed out to the car.
I had to be getting flustered by the hot accountantness that was my new boss. It wasn’t like me to leave a bag in the middle of the hall—not once, but twice.
“What do you think of that, Gus? He seems pretty cool, huh?”
Gus gurgled his agreement, smiling around the fist in his mouth.
“Right?” I left the stroller and jiggled Gus to keep his attention. “I mean, he totally could have been screaming at us still. But he just laughed it off.”
I opened the trunk so we could stick the stroller in so it would be ready to go.
I leaned in and whispered to Gus, “That’s so hot, right?”
I mean, the whole good guy thing? Who knew it was fan-yourself worthy?
Tim came jogging around the side of the house, the base of the car seat in hand.
“I hope you know how to install this,” he joked as he opened the back door. “I tried contacting a friend at NASA, but he said the specs weren’t clear enough for him.”
I handed him the baby and snapped the seat base in, locking it in place before adding the seat.
“Okay, slide him on in.” I turned around to find Tim holding Gus out and away from him with his hand under each of his little tiny arms.
Gus looked amused and oddly patient.
“Um, Tim. That’s not really how you hold a baby.” I smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
“I figured that, but I’ve got a good grip on him this way. No accidents or anything.”