Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)

by C. M. Stunich

  I throw the last corner of my sandwich at him, but all it does is make him laugh. I figure it takes a lot to faze this guy.

  “Can I see your work attire?” he asks me, eyes twinkling, leaning forward and peering at my tank and jeans with a burning expression that makes me squirm. “I mean, if I'm spending the night and you're spending the night and you did just let me take your virginity …”

  “Are you … serious?” I ask, but I can't help the warm flush that takes over my body. I feel my thighs suddenly clenching tight and my breath fluttering with excitement. My turn to lean forward over the table. “You want to sleep together … again?”

  “I don't even snore.” Zayden sits up and lifts two fingers in some kind of weird salute. “Swear to God. You can ask any of my ex-girlfriends.”

  I stare at him across the table, and I have no clue what to say. This guy's in town for, what, another week or so? And he's my nanny. My unpaid nanny. But he really is hot and I'm eager to try all sorts of other things in the bedroom …

  Before I can answer, the baby starts fussing and Zay gets up from the table, patting me on the head as he passes.

  “Be right back,” he says as I lean forward and try to sneak a peek at him through the pass-through window into the dining area. I catch sight of Zay's dark head bending down and standing up with Sadie clutched to his chest. He moves away for a moment and I hear some rustling before he appears in the kitchen and flicks on the tap, a bottle clutched in his hand. “Guess somebody's into an early morning snack today.”

  I stand up, my chair sliding across the kitchen floor as my heart pounds in my chest.

  I want to have sex with Zayden again, but I'm not sure I can handle it right now.

  “I'm completely worn-out,” I say as I take a few backwards steps towards the dining room/living room area. Zayden turns and watches me as I slink away, raising his brows at me. “You'll take the kids to school in the morning?”

  “Nanny Zay to the rescue,” he says with a smile. I don't wait around to see what else he has to say, retreating into my new bedroom and closing the door … but not locking it.

  I kind of hope he barges in again, like he did earlier.

  He doesn't. But that doesn't keep me from dreaming about it.

  This Brooke girl is tricksy, tricksy, tricksy. Like a fox.

  I smile as I wrestle a screaming twin into his car seat. Even this many days in, I can't tell which one is which. Mercedes and Rob decided to name the boys Michael and Ike. Like they somehow missed the joke, right? Mike and Ike. Like the candies, those little colored chewy things? You know what I'm talking about.

  “Listen up, candy cakes,” I tell Mike (or Ike), “we all have to grow up someday. Boy, this is your day.” The kid just screams as Kinzie and Bella whine and stick their fingers in their ears. The little blond one, Grace, is already asleep. “Sorry, bud, but you're going to preschool today if it kills me. Uncle Zay needs a fucking break.”

  “Curse jar,” Kinzie screams over her brother's shouts as I move back and bump right into Brooke. If I said the collision of our bodies didn't make me hard as a rock, that'd be the biggest fucking lie I ever did tell.

  “Off to class?” I ask and Brooke nods, a pair of black glasses on her face that I've not seen before. I push them up her nose as she bats my hand away. “You wear glasses?”

  “Contacts normally, but my eyes are too tired today. That, and I have a quiz. I have to be able to focus completely on this.”

  “Well, if it helps, you look all studious and shit. Very sexy.” I gesture at her wrinkled black button-up and slacks, at the long beige coat she's wearing. Brooke gives me a weird look and slides by, heading to her car as I watch. Hmm. My usual tactics don't seem to work very well on this chick.

  I wave good-bye as she pulls down the driveway, wondering if she really just used me yesterday or if I might be able to convince her to give sex with me another go.

  You're making a serious mistake here, bro, I tell myself, but I brush the thought off immediately. Nah. Nah. I know what I'm doing. Like I haven't been in this situation a million times before. I have more ex-girlfriends than I do fingers and toes. Not a biggie. Either Brooke wants to play the friends with benefits game with me, or she doesn't.

  “Can we please gooo,” Kinzie whines from inside the van.

  I roll my eyes and climb in, starting up some Hailee Steinfeld as we back down the driveway to start the arduous journey to preschool … and then kindergarten … and then elementary school. And then home to feed the baby and read books made out of cardboard.

  Ah, what sweet hell is this?

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Rob screams at me as I pull the cell away from my ear and feel myself frowning. “You are not a goddamn nanny, Zay. What the hell do you think you're doing with this girl?”

  “Um, first of all, I'm doing her a favor here. Second, I didn't tell you all of this, so you could scream at me. You know, Kinzie's the worst one of them all. She kicks and spits and bites me. What the hell is up with that?”

  “Listen, Zayden,” Rob starts as I flop down on Brooke's couch and accidentally sit on a chihuahua. The weirdest part of all is that it doesn't seem to mind. I lift my butt up and push it away from the center couch cushion. “Kinzie has hyperactive blah blah blah blah blah.” Of course, Rob doesn't really say all those blahs, but who the hell cares what he's actually talking about. Not this guy right here.

  “Personally, I think she needs a spanking with a wooden spoon, kind of like the ones Mom used to give us as kids.”

  “You lay one finger on my daughter, Zay, and I swear to God, I'll—”

  “Look, before you finish that sentence,” I start as I lean forward and put my elbows on my knees. “You'd best consider that I left my house, my life, my job, and dragged my and my hairless cat's butts all the way up here for you. I'm not gonna spank the kid myself, but I sure as hell am giving her time-outs.”

  “Time-outs don't work with Kinzie,” Rob states firmly. I can imagine his red beard wagging, bushy brows drawing together as he slams his fist into the palm of his hand for emphasis. “We've tried that, Zayden. Don't you think we know our own daughter?”

  I don't answer that question. First off, because I'm pretty sure it's rhetorical and second, because I think the answer is no. Sometimes people get too close to a situation to see what's really going on. I figure that must be the case with Kinzie because that kid is insane.

  “You do know you named your sons after a really gross box of candy, right?”

  “Huh? Zay, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Ah, and now I know why the curse jar was already half filled when I got here. Nice one, bro.”

  “Listen, Zayden. You need to tell that girl you don't know shit about children and get the hell out of there. Using somebody's kids, their desperation, to get laid is despicable. I thought even you were above a stunt like that.”

  I feel my jaw clench tight. Rob doesn't get it, not at all. Never has.

  “I'm not doing this to get laid—” although it makes for a nice aside to the whole situation “—so clearly you're missing the point. Did you hear me? This girl doesn't have anybody else.”

  “This isn't your problem, Zayden. Take the kids home. We'll be back in a week and a half, and then you can go home to Las Vegas and wait another three years to visit with your family.”

  “You know what? Fuck you, Rob. How's that sound?”

  I hang up the phone before he can answer, rising to my feet and running my fingers through the hair on the left side of my head. My brother is a serious goddamn asshole. Wow. And he wonders why I never visit. Ain't a mystery to anyone but him.

  My new favorite person in the world is this baby. She smiles at me and laughs, but she doesn't complain unless she's hungry or has a dirty diaper. Seriously huge improvement over everyone else in my life. That chick Kitty got pissed at me for skipping out on our last session and sent me a text of her flipping me off. Oh well. There's always anot
her pretty little tattooed chick walking into the shop, leaning over the glass counter and flashing me her tits.

  I pick Sadie up out of her crib with a yawn—on my part—and sit us both down on the couch, a stack of books at my side. If I'm going to be here, I might as well hang out with the kid, right? Maybe one day she'll actually like me—unlike her older sister. Wouldn't hurt to have some family that cared whether I lived or died.

  The first book I grab is splashed with color and bits of fuzzy fabric that Sadie latches onto with fervor, eating the corners of the book as much as she looks at it. Good for her. At least one of us is having a good time right now.

  Somewhere deep down, I know that I'm waiting for Brooke to show back up, sweep in here in that non-style style of hers, look at me like I'm both the biggest mistake of her life—and the most intriguing. It's an interesting dichotomy, that's for sure.

  “What do you think of Uncle Zay's new lady friend?” I ask Sadie as she slaps her hands on the book and laughs. I lean back and nod. “Yep. That's how I feel, too. Now all I gotta do is convince her that I'm not the enemy, you know? I think a week spent in each other's arms would do us both a lot of good, don't you?”

  Sadie babbles something back at me as the sound of a rattling car engine pulls into the driveway.

  Yes, ma'am. Here we go.

  I lean back casually and wait for Brooke to unlock the door.

  “Hey, how was class?” I ask as I glance over my shoulder and watch her step inside … with a guy on her heels. Huh. Who the hell is this dude?

  “Fine, thanks.” Brooke closes the door and comes over to stand at the end of the coffee table, pushing her glasses up her nose. I notice then that she's got a sprinkling of glittery pink eyeshadow on her lids. It's kind of random … and a little bit sexy. “Zayden, this is Dan, my study partner for survival analysis.” Um, no clue what that is. I smile anyway and nod. “We'll be in the kitchen working on a project.” I lift a hand in a loose half-wave and the guy smiles at me, pushing some dark hair off his forehead. I hate him instantly. “Zay's our nanny,” Brooke adds, making my mouth twitch as she turns and her camel colored coat wafts out behind her.

  “Nice to meet ya,” Dan drawls, shrugging his shoulders, his rain spotted leather coat rustling as he turns and follows after Brooke. There's a moment of silence and then some giggling from the kitchen that makes my skin prickle with nerves. It's not like Brooke and I are anything to each other—obviously we're strangers—but I'm not all that keen on watching other guys hit on girls I like. Just bugs the hell out of me.

  “You hungry, doll?” I ask Sadie and she makes a sound that I'd like to think means hell, yes, Uncle Zay, get your ass in that kitchen and see what's up with this dude. I grin. “You got it, babe.”

  I get up and move into the ugly linoleum kitchen with its builder-grade cabinets, noticing as I do that Brooke's eyes flick up to watch me. I give her my best award-winning smile and kick the fridge open.

  “You okay with applesauce, chickee?” I ask as I reach in and grab a jar with my right hand, the open book tat on my skin fluttering with the motion. “And look at that, unsweetened and organic. Pretty posh.” I heel the door shut behind me and sit Sadie in the high chair I brought over. I pretend not to be interested in what Brooke and Dude are doing, but I'm totally watching.

  “Did you get the reading done last night?” Dude asks as he flips through some pages in a thick textbook and glances over at her from under his eyelashes. He's totally checking her out, but she's not paying attention, opening a laptop up next to her own textbook and logging in with a quick flicker of her fingers across the keys.

  “I did it after my other class yesterday,” she says and then bends down to dig something out of her bag, coming back up with a notebook. “I also got that study sheet filled out, but I didn't have time for the extra credit. Did you want to work on that first?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Dude What's-His-Face shrugs out of his jacket and flashes a really ugly tribal tattoo on his right arm. Puh-lease. He stretches his arms above his head like those weak ass triceps of his mean anything. I narrow my eyes at him as I fish one of those rubber baby spoon things from my back pocket and spin it around in my fingers, dragging a chair from the table and flopping down on it. “Your baby?” Dude asks Brooke as he shuffles around in his own bag.

  “Me? Oh. No.” She waves her hand in my direction. “Zayden has other kids he watches. He's … kind of staying here for the week to help me out.” When she looks at me, she smiles and the expression is genuine as fuck. Screw Rob, that dickhead. This is totally worth it, my good deed of the year or whatever. Lord knows I'm kind of a selfish fuck. Maybe I owe the universe this?

  “Ah, cool, cool.” Dude looks back at me and I meet his dark gaze. Silent man communications are sent. He's digging Brooke; I'm telling him to eat shit. I let my smile simmer wide and hot and when Brooke isn't looking, I flip the guy off. He gapes at me as I turn back to Sadie and lift up a spoonful of applesauce.

  Brooke can do whatever she wants with this douche when I head back to Vegas, but this week … this chick is so mine.

  “Don't think I didn't see what you were doing in there,” I say as I close the door behind Dan and lean against it, watching Zayden as he pauses in the middle of the living room, wearing a t-shirt that says I Would Pierce the Fuck Outta You. I don't quite get it, but okay. “Trying to scare that guy off. You're not very subtle, you know.”

  He lifts up his hands, palms out, and flashes me the tattoos that start at his wrists and go all the way down to his elbows and beyond.

  “Nah. Subtle isn't exactly my cup of tea, Miss Overland. I didn't like that guy. Did you see his ink? It was some fake tribal shit he probably got off of the internet.” I raise my brows and stand up, pausing near the back of the couch to pet Hubert. God, this is an ugly cat. But, at the same time … it's a little bit cute. Not at all like Dodger. I pause and listen to the chorus of yaps coming from the backyard. Hopefully we don't get any noise complaints. That'd really get me to the end of my rope.

  “He's just a study partner. I met the guy like three days ago.”

  Zayden shrugs his sexy shoulders at me.

  “So?” He grins at me. “You also met me three days ago.” I purse my lips at him and give the hairless cat a scratch near the base of his tail. His sweater today is red with a black guitar on the back. It's the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my life.

  “Five. And I don't exactly make a habit of sleeping around. Virgin, remember.”

  “Um, not a virgin anymore,” Zay says with a massive grin that I pretend I don't find at all charming. The thing is, he's super charming. Crazy charismatic. It scares me a little to be honest. I almost wish he was more of a dick. “Anyway, that guy has ulterior motives. Big time. I can smell it.”

  “Like you don't?” I ask with a laugh as Zay moves around the couch and gets up close and personal with me. I'm not even sure he realizes he does that, gets up in other people's personal space like that.

  “I never tried to pretend I didn't. See, that's the difference between that guy and me. I'm telling you exactly what it is that I want.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, of course, it's you, Smarty-Pants.”

  I take a step back, but Zay follows me in, pausing for a moment as the baby gurgles and then sighs softly in sleep. My heart is pumping furiously, my body tingling as I feel the warmth rolling off of him. I can still remember the way it draped across me, that heat, that hard hot body. I suck in a breath.

  “I thought you said this was a casual, no strings attached sort of a deal?” Zay grins and brushes some hair away from my face with his tattooed hand.

  “It is. Look, this is a perfect arrangement, don't you think? You can experiment with me, get all those virgin mistakes out of the way early on, and then in a week and a half, I'll be gone. Boom. Back to Vegas, baby. No worries at all, no awkwardness, no crossing paths.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, but inside, I'm going completely craz
y. I can feel butterflies and tingles and this weird sort of buzzing that I've never felt before. I guess I'm having some kind of … sexual awakening or something. I feel hot and squirmy with need. I'm aware it's all basic human chemistry and hormones and pheromones and all of that … but damn.

  “You're offering to … teach me or something?”

  Zay snaps his fingers and leans in close, the piercings on his face winking at me in the weak sunshine.

  “Yeah, sure, why not? What do you have to lose?”

  I look up at him, at this stranger that I let into my sister's house, that I let take care of her kids … that I let take me to bed. Why do I feel like I can trust this guy? I'm not stupid. I'm completely and utterly aware that I don't know this man at all, but God, I want to say yes. I want to stop being the Brooke that does everything right all the time, but that no one notices.

  My sister, Ingrid, was always one step ahead of me. If I got an A in chemistry then she got an A+ in AP chem; if I got an after-school job, she had two; if I made the team, she was the captain. But now, here I am, trying to pick up the pieces of her mess. I feel like a background, a side character, a pawn on a chessboard.

  And I'm sick of it.

  I can do something for myself, can't I? Even if it's stupid and it makes no sense and it's probably a really bad idea.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Zay asks, snapping me out of my reverie. I blink up at him and then sweep some of my stupidly long hair over my shoulders; I should cut it all off. Make a fresh start.

  “I'm trying to logistically convince myself to sleep with you again.”

  “Oh. Any arguments I can offer to help make that happen?” He snaps his fingers at me again and then takes a step back, reaching down and tucking his inked fingers under his shirt. “Nah, don't say anything, Smarty-Pants, I got ya.” Zay tears his shirt off and flashes me his perfect midsection, a landscape of muscular hills and valleys, a sea of color and piercings that draws my eye and refuses to let go of my gaze.