The Woodsman's Nanny - A Single Daddy Romance

by Emerson Rose

  “Yes, sir!” Tori says, snuggling down in the bed next to me.

  “I’m going back to bed. See you in a couple of hours.”

  “No! You need to stay and help me keep the bad men away from Daddy’s dreams,” Tori yells, and I’ve never wanted to kiss her more. My little cupid, how awesome is that?

  “I’m pretty sure you can handle it, you’re a pro with nightmares, aren’t you?”

  She frowns, “Not Daddy’s.”

  I’m grinning ear to ear now lying back on my pillows with my hands behind my head. Good Lord, how am I supposed to keep this platonic?

  “You’re not wearing jammies,” Tori says, noticing that Sasha is still in her clothes.

  “Yeah, you’re still dressed. You can’t possibly be comfortable, come on, I’ll get you a t-shirt or something, and you can hop in here with us.” Her mouth falls open, and her cheeks blush a perfect rosy color.

  “Yay! A sleepover!” Tori shouts, and I can’t hold it any longer. I laugh loud and long flinging back the covers and grabbing Sasha’s hand to lead her into my closet.

  “I think I have something in here that would be perfect.” I look back at Tori. “Get comfy while Daddy gets Sasha some jammies, okay, bug?”

  “Okay, Daddy.” She snuggles down under the covers smiling like she won the lottery.

  “I’m fine, I don’t need…” I guide her up against the wall inside my closet and kiss away her objections. There’s no way I could sleep all night in the same bed with her without another kiss. Quick and dirty, I cup her breasts, kiss her mouth, and nudge my growing erection into her belly, but that’s all. Once I’ve tasted her, I move away leaving her panting and flushed, hands splayed against the wall behind her, and I grab a Christmas t-shirt someone gave me as a gag gift one year.

  It’s red, size XL, and it says Tell me what you want, what you really, really want on it next to a Santa face. “Here, this should be big enough to cover your ass.”

  I toss it to her, and she holds it up. “Really?” she says making a what the hell face.

  “Gag gift, but it’s new, never been worn, and modest enough to wear to a five- year-old’s sleepover. You’re welcome.” I pass her on my way out and kiss her cheek. When I enter my bedroom, I do it strategically, so my daughter doesn’t see what her new nanny does to me.

  “Where’s Sasha?” Tori asks.

  “Changing into her jammies.”

  She looks at me suspiciously. “You have girl jammies, Daddy?”

  “Well, not jammies exactly, it’s a…”

  “A Santa shirt,” Sasha says strutting out of the closet wearing the shirt. It’s barely long enough and just brushes the edges of her perfect cheeks. It’s baggy but not enough to hide her perky tits and hard nipples. Shit, maybe that shirt was a mistake after all. Only Sasha could make a Christmas t-shirt with Santa on it look that sexy.

  Tori sits up to get a better look at Sasha. “Ooo, is it Christmas, Daddy? I love Santa. He brings me toys.”

  “No, princess, it’s not Christmas time. It’s the only t-shirt I had for Sasha.”

  Her shoulders slump in disappointment, and she flops back onto the pillow next to me.

  “But,” Sasha says skipping out of the room, her ass jiggling under the t-shirt making me hard to the point of being uncomfortable especially next to my daughter. She returns a second later still skipping with a smirk on her face carrying her phone. She knows her tits are bouncing. She knows I’m hard. She knows she’s driving me crazy, and she knows there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “I love Christmas so much I have an app on my phone that counts down the days until Christmas every day of the year. Do you want to know how many days until Christmas?” she asks Tori.

  “Yes! How many?” she squeals.

  “One hundred and forty-six.”

  “That’s a lot,” Tori says looking disappointed.

  “Nah, that’s not long, only twenty weeks… piece of cake. Have you started shopping yet?” she asks with a straight face, and I’m not sure if she’s messing around or if she’s that into Christmas.

  “No. Have you?”

  “Yeah, duh, I’m halfway done. Started the day after Christmas last year when they have the best sales. I had a great discount at Macy’s.” I have a feeling that is no lie. She is nuts, nuts about Christmas.

  “Wow, Daddy we need to go shopping tomorrow.”

  “I think we’re good. There’s still five months left to shop. Don’t worry.” Sasha shrugs. “It’s your funeral.”

  “Funeral? Did somebody die, Daddy?”

  “What? No, honey, of course not. See what you’ve done?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, honey, it’s just a saying,” Sasha says.

  She doesn’t look convinced, and to prove her point, she scoots closer to me in the bed.

  “It means if you want to have a bad Christmas, you shouldn’t go shopping.”

  Tori looks at me, and I slide my arm around her shoulders snuggling her close. Thankfully, all the talk about Christmas and shopping has melted my Sashasicle.

  “So… we should go shopping?” she asks more confused than ever.

  “Yeah, princess, we can go shopping. How about this weekend? Is that soon enough, Captain Christmas?”

  “Yes, I think that’s soon enough.”

  “Will we see Santa, Daddy?”

  I look at the queen of Christmas and wait to see how she handles this one. How the hell did my nightmare turn into a Christmas shopping trip?

  “Well, no. Santa’s still working hard at the North Pole getting toys ready for the kids of the world. He only comes to the stores when everything is ready to go at the North Pole.”

  “Oh,” she says, disappointment clear in her voice. She’s quiet for a moment but suddenly perks up. “Daddy! We need to make a list. What do you want for Christmas?”

  My gaze swings to Sasha. She is the only thing I want that I don’t officially have, and God, do I want her. The blush from earlier is back in her cheeks. She knows what I want, and God willing, she will want it, too… if not now, eventually.

  “Daddy?” Tori says yanking me from a daydream where I’m stripping a very skimpy Santa bikini off of Sasha on Christmas morning next to the tree.

  “Yeah, princess.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Of course, you are. It’s the middle of the night. Come on, let’s go back to sleep.” I pat the pillow, and she lays her head down. “You, too, get in,” I say to Sasha, and she rolls her eyes sliding under the blankets on the other side of Tori.

  “Night.” She turns her back to me and reaches for the light on the night table next to her.

  “No, leave it on,” Tori says, and Sasha’s hand slowly retreats under the covers.

  “Daddy’s afraid of the dark like us,” Tori announces snuggling into my side.

  “The dark is overrated anyway,” Sasha says rolling over to face Tori and me. “The only thing I’ve ever accomplished in the dark is stubbing my toe.”

  “Really? That’s it, nothing better than that ever happened to you in the dark?” I wink and watch her blush for the third time in twenty-four hours.

  “I like doing everything with the lights on.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “You’re killing me here, you know that, right?”

  She covers her heart with her hand and says innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Good night, Miss Rivers.”

  She smiles and rolls back over.

  “Good night, Dr. Sullivan.”

  Sometimes life is better with the lights on.

  13

  Sasha

  There’s a very annoying sound coming from somewhere near my chest. When I try to move, it only gets louder and more annoying. “What the hell is that horrible…” I try to roll over, but a warm lump groans from behind me.

  Someone walks across the room. “Your alarm’s going off. You shouldn’t sleep with your phone
in the bed, It can catch on fire, you know.” It’s Xander, and he is annoyingly chipper. I glance toward the window where the sun is nowhere close to coming up.

  “What time is it?”

  “It is 4:30 a.m., rise and shine.” He’s sitting down in an accent chair across the room tying his running shoes.

  “I can’t rise and shine when the sun isn’t shining yet.”

  “Well, you’ll need to get used to it eventually, but since you’re in bed with Tori, I don’t see any reason for you to get up. Unless, of course, you have an uncontrollable urge to come down and make me some coffee in an hour when I get back from my run.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I snort.

  “Oh, yes, I live only to make you the perfect cup of coffee,” I mumble into the pillow as I roll over and shut off the alarm on my phone.

  “Great, glad to hear it. I’ll be back in a bit.” I listen to him get up and cross the room. I hold as still as possible silently praying he leaves without another word, but I’m too late. I feel his warm hand moving my hair off of my shoulders gathering it to one side, and a kiss pressed against my neck makes me moan.

  “Oh, now that’s not nice. How am I going to run like this?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Have a great run, bye.” I pull the covers over my head and listen to him leave the room. What am I doing? I’m going to have to sit down and talk to him when he gets back from running. We cannot keep flirting like this. It’ll end one of two ways—I get my heart stomped on, or Victoria gets hers broken. Either way, it spells disaster, and I am not interested.

  “Sasha?” a muffled voice says next to me.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re still here?”

  “Yep, we don’t have to get up yet, though.”

  “We don’t?”

  “Nope, when you have a sleepover, you get to sleep in.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh. And then when you get up, you make big, sticky cinnamon rolls for breakfast and hang out in your jammies and watch movies all day.”

  The covers are torn from my back when she sits up in bed.

  “Can we do sleepovers every night?”

  “Well, then it wouldn’t be special. If you do it every night, then it’s no fun anymore.”

  “Can we get up and make rolls now?”

  “And skip the most important part of a sleepover?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The sleeping in part. We can’t get up yet. It’s dark outside.”

  “It’s always dark when we get up.”

  “Well, that’s going to change now that I’m here. We sleep until the sun is up like God intended.”

  She shrugs and snuggles in next to me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her in close to spoon. “I’m the little spoon,” she giggles.

  “Yep, and I’m the big spoon, and the big spoon is super tired, so let’s sleep.”

  “Okay, night, Sasha big spoon.”

  “Goodnight, Tori tiny spoon.”

  “Victoria,” she says in a stern tone.

  “What?” I ask confused.

  “You always call me Victoria.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right, I do.”

  “You don’t like my name, Sasha?”

  I prop up on my elbow behind her. “I love your name, that’s why I call you by it instead of a nickname.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Liking my name.”

  “Of course. Do you like my name?”

  “Uh-huh. Do you have two like me?”

  “I do. My middle name is Liana. That’s my mom’s name.”

  “It’s pretty. Where is your mommy?”

  “She’s back in Minneapolis where I used to live.”

  “Is it far?”

  “Yes, very far.”

  “My mommy is far away, too. She was bad, and she had to go far away. Is that what happened with your mommy?”

  “No, just far away.” I don’t want to press her about her mother. I’m curious, but I’m not sure I want to know what happened when her mom tried to kidnap her.

  “I pretend Zion’s my mommy. I love her, and she loves me, too.” She looks down at her nightie picking at the lace on the hem.

  “You know, a mommy is the person who loves you and cares for you. Mommies don’t have to be the person who carried you in their belly. There are a lot of different kinds of mommies. I think it’s great that Zion’s been a mommy to you. She must be a very cool person if she helped raise you.”

  Victoria smiles wide and scoots back under the covers snuggling up with me. I find it unusual that she’s so comfortable with me knowing how she feels about strangers. It’s also odd that I am this comfortable with her. It’s the same kind of connected feeling I have with Xander—like we are old friends, or we knew each other in another life.

  “Let’s have a sleepover, my Sasha.” I smile. My Sasha, somehow it feels like being her anything is something special.

  The next time I open my eyes feels much more like morning. The sun is streaming in through the windows, and I feel rested and awake. I’m flat on my stomach with my arms and legs splayed out and tangled in the sheets. Victoria is lying on her stomach, her head turned toward me as if she’s been watching for signs of life.

  “Is it morning now?” she asks as soon as my eyes flutter open.

  “Yes. This is what I call morning.”

  “Can we eat cinnamon rolls in our jammies and watch Dallas now?”

  Wow, kids don’t forget anything, do they? “Has your daddy gone to work?”

  “Uh-huh. He told me not to leave the bed until you wake up unless I have to pee. He said no bed wetting.”

  “Then yes, I think sleepover plans shall commence now.” I roll over to the edge of the bed, and she scrambles along with me.

  “What’s commence?”

  “To start.” I have to remember to speak kid talk, whatever that is.

  “What does shall mean?”

  “It’s an old-fashioned word for will, do you like it?”

  “Uh-huh, it’s fancy.”

  “Perfect, then I shall use it more often.”

  “You’re silly.”

  “I am?” I say pointing my finger at myself. She nods her head.

  “Zion’s not silly, she follows rules.”

  Hmm, I don’t know how to take that bit of information. Being silly makes her smile, but I know kids need rules, too, and she loves Zion.

  “I follow rules, too, just not stupid ones.” Her eyes pop, and her neck jerks back.

  “Like getting up in the dark?”

  “Yes, exactly. Now come on, let’s go downstairs and make the house smell like cinnamon.”

  Since I don’t have my belongings here, I ask Victoria to show me where her daddy’s shorts are, and I put on a pair that are several sizes too big along with my sleep shirt. I can’t get dressed because it’s sleepover day, but I also can’t run around in my panties—it wouldn’t be appropriate.

  Downstairs, we make a giant mess baking cinnamon rolls from scratch. It takes forever because I’m unfamiliar with the kitchen. By the time we’re done, I’m acclimated to the Sullivan kitchen.

  “Mmm, these are good,” she says with a mouth full of cinnamon goodness.

  “I told you, sleepover cinnamon rolls are the best.”

  I’m working on cleaning the kitchen while Victoria sits at one of the islands eating her breakfast that technically is now brunch when my phone rings.

  It’s Xander, must be checking up on us. “Hello?”

  “I’m going to assume since you answered on the second ring and there are no sirens in the background that you haven’t burned my house down yet.”

  “Oh no, we’re at the hospital in the ER. It’s quiet here. The house is a pile of ashes, though, sorry. I hope you have good insurance.”

  “Nice, no really, what are you two up to?”

  “Well, we got up about an hour and a half ago, and
we have been baking homemade cinnamon rolls in our pajamas, and now we are about to go lounge around and watch Dallas for a while. Jealous?”

  “Indeed,” he says with a deep longing in his voice.

  “I was thinking about going to my house and picking up my things later on. Do you have a car I can drive or should I call an Uber?”

  “I told you a car was part of the job. Keys are on the counter in the silver bowl, and the car is in the garage next to where I parked mine yesterday.”

  “Thanks. What time will you be home tonight?”

  “I’m supposed to be off at five, but I’m on call tonight. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay, so dinner? Me? Cooking or what?”

  “Can you cook?”

  I hold the phone up. “Victoria, can I cook?” I ask wiggling the phone in the air.

  “Yes!” she yells still chewing a big bite of roll.

  “That answer your question?” I ask putting the phone back to my ear.

  “Since she sounds like she’s currently eating something that you’ve cooked for her, and she’s happy, yes, I will take your word for it. I like Mexican, can you make something spicy for me?”

  “Spicy chicken tacos sound good?”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you both in a few hours. I’m going to make a quick stop at the hospital on the way home and check in on Zion, but don’t say anything to Tori, or she’ll want to come, and I don’t have time today.”

  “All right, see you later.”

  “Sasha?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when you sleep.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. I figured he might be upset that we didn’t get up while he was out running this morning. He comes off as the type of man who likes his schedules and doesn’t appreciate others veering from them.

  “Uh, thanks, but we should talk about the kissing and sleeping in the same bed when you get…”

  “I have to go… my next appointment just came in. I’ll see you tonight. Tell Tori I love her.” The phone goes dead.

  “Hello? Xander?” Shit, he’s never going to listen to a word I have to say about us and the fact that there cannot be an us. I’m just going to have to be strong and keep as far away from him as possible until this job is done, and Zion is home.