The Woodsman's Nanny - A Single Daddy Romance

by Emerson Rose

  “Time for Dallas?” Victoria asks with sticky hands and face.

  “As soon as you wash your hands and face.” She hops off the stool and races to the bathroom to wash up while I flop down on the living room couch and grab the remote. Where would one watch a television show that hasn’t been on for twenty-five years? I have no idea, so I text Twyla.

  Me: Hey, I got a job babysitting the doctor’s daughter. I’ll be staying here for a couple of weeks. Sorry I didn’t text sooner. Where can I watch that old TV show Dallas?

  Twyla: YOU’RE LIVING WITH THE HOT DOCTOR?

  Me: Yeah, it’s a job. I got fired at Macy’s, and this came up. Dallas?

  Twyla: We are going to talk not text about this, but I’m workin at the flower shop right now, and why are you tryin to watch that old-ass show anyway?

  Me: Victoria loves it, and we had a sleepover last night, so today is lounge around and watch TV day.

  Twyla: Victoria, his kid?

  Me: Yes.

  Twyla: Look on Amazon, they got all kinds of old shit there.

  Amazon, of course, why didn’t I think of that?

  Me: Thanks, I owe you one.

  Twyla: You owe me more than one. Text me his address so I can look up his swanky-ass house later.

  Me: You’re nuts.

  Twyla: Text it.

  I roll my eyes and send her his address. Then I get busy figuring out the remote control. When Victoria returns to the room sparkling clean, except for the cinnamon on her nightgown, I’ve found Dallas on Amazon.

  “What season are you on?”

  “Five,” she says settling in next to me on the couch.

  “Wow, five? You’re going to have to help me catch up. It’s been a long time since I’ve watched this show.”

  Her look is one of a person about to take on a very serious assignment as she begins to catch me up. As we watch, it all begins coming back to me—J.R. Ewing and his arrogant backstabbing ways, Sue Ellen and her powerful ways of persuasion, and the drama that comes with the entire cast of the show. The more we watch, the more I can’t understand why a five-year-old is so interested in a show like this.

  “Victoria, why do you like this show so much?”

  She answers without hesitating a beat. “Because they got a big family,” she says with stars in her eyes. Ah, now I get it.

  “Do you wish you had a big family?”

  “Uh-huh. I got lots of uncles, but we never get to see them. On Dallas, they all live in the same house. It’s so cool.”

  “How many uncles do you have?”

  “Four.”

  “Wow, that is a lot of uncles. Do they live close by?”

  “No, far away, like Mommy but not cuz they’re bad.”

  “Do you get together on holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving?”

  “No.” She snuggles closer, and I take that as a hint she doesn’t want to talk about her absent uncles anymore. “Sasha?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think my uncles will ever move here and live in a big house together with me and my daddy and Zion and you?”

  Now that’s a loaded question. First of all, I can’t imagine why Xander has four brothers that he never sees. Second, I can’t say what’s going to happen with Zion and her health. Third, I’m starting to worry that Victoria thinks I’m staying forever, and I’m not.

  “I don’t know, that’s a big dream ya got there.”

  “Dream big or go home. That’s what Daddy says.”

  “Well, your daddy is a smart man so if that’s your dream, I say you can make it happen.”

  “Cool.” She smiles, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I hope encouraging her wasn’t a mistake. I know nothing about their family’s history. Maybe there’s a good reason why they don’t see her uncles. And maybe I just opened a big can of worms.

  Sometimes I should just shut my mouth.

  14

  Xander

  Zion is doing much better. I stopped in to see her, and she was out of bed walking in the halls. They’ve moved her out of ICU and are planning on letting her come home by next Friday.

  Everything is working out perfectly, so why am I so unhappy?

  Sasha, that’s why.

  As soon as Zion is back on her feet, Sasha won’t be needed, and she’ll walk out of my life as fast as she walked into it. I don’t want that. I want time to get to know her better under my roof. I want to see her face every day and watch her interact with Tori.

  Maybe Zion would take a vacation when she’s released? I love that idea, but I’m sure she would see right through it, and her feelings would be hurt at the idea of me sending her away. But, she might be open to the idea, who knows?

  “Hey Z, I want to send you on an all-expenses-paid vacation when you are released next week so you can get some extra rest before you come back to work. Where do you want to go… somewhere tropical, home to Africa, or maybe England? You said you’ve always wanted to see England.”

  “You trying to get rid of me?” she says stopping in the hall leaning on the IV pole.

  “No, of course not! Why would you even think that?”

  “Because you have a new, young, and pretty nanny now.”

  “Oh, stop it. No one can compare to you, Zion. You’re the closest thing to a mother Tori’s ever had. She loves you like no one else.”

  “Maybe so, but I won’t live forever. I’m old Xander. She needs someone younger.”

  “Z… are you trying to tell me something?”

  “I will be here for you as long as I can for as long as you want me, but getting sick made me realize I might not be able to work forever as I thought.”

  “Nobody wants you to work forever. You deserve to retire like everybody else. Do you feel like it’s time?” She looks away from me down the hall toward our destination—her room.

  “I don’t know what to do.” When she looks back at me, her eyes are full of tears. I slide my arm around her waist and give her a gentle side hug. “You do what’s right for Zion. We will be fine no matter what you decide. I want you to know you are always welcome to live with us. You are Tori’s mom as far as she is concerned, and she will need you around forever.”

  “Thank you, that means a lot.”

  “You’d better get back to bed. I smell the dinner cart coming down the hall.” She makes a twisted up, disgusted face.

  “The food here isn’t fit for a dog.”

  “That’s because you’re on a strict diabetic diet. You better get used to it. We want you around for a long time.”

  Her upper lip curls, and she makes a snarling sound. “I guess.”

  We walk into her room and say our goodbyes.

  When I pull into the garage, the Range Rover is parked where it was this morning. I wonder if they even went anywhere today. Inside, it’s quiet, but it smells like a gourmet Mexican restaurant, and my mouth starts to water.

  I call out for Tori and Sasha but get no answer. On the island, there is a crockpot filled with chicken seasoned and fully cooked and a tortilla container filled with fresh, soft flour tortillas.

  I make my way to the glass wall and look down at the beach. Bingo, there they are. Both of them are wearing bikinis sitting on their knees building a sandcastle with buckets and little containers from the kitchen.

  Tori’s hair is wild and windblown but tied up in a knot on top of her head. Her cheeks are sun-kissed, and she’s smiling and laughing. Sasha’s hair hangs down her back in long waves, and she, too, has rosy cheeks from the sun.

  I hadn’t thought to tell Sasha that Tori has no fear when it comes to the ocean, but they seemed to have done fine today anyway. I watch them for a few minutes until my stomach growls. I walk through the quiet house upstairs to my bedroom to take a quick shower and change into black shorts and a t-shirt.

  I hear them coming up the steps to the patio laughing, and I meet them at the door. “Look who the cat drug in. It looks like you two have had a great day.” I lean down and kiss Tori
on the cheek and rub Sasha’s upper arm casually as I straighten up. The electricity that passes between us is off the charts so much so that I have to take a step back to keep myself from kissing her in front of Tori.

  “We did, Daddy. We had a sleepover!” Tori squeals jumping up and down.

  “A sleepover all day?”

  “Sleepover’s work in phases,” Sasha says matter of fact.

  “Oh? What’s this, the beach phase?”

  “No, this is the do-whatever-you-want phase. Phase one is sleeping in, then we made homemade cinnamon rolls, then we chilled in our pajamas on the couch all afternoon watching Dallas, and then we got cleaned up and went to my place for my things. When we got home, we wanted to catch some waves, so we hit the beach.”

  “Catch some waves?”

  “Sasha taught me how to surf!” Tori says still jumping up and down except now she’s added clapping her hands together.

  “You did? How?”

  “That Rover thing is huge. I threw a couple of my boards in there and brought them with us. Hope that’s cool.”

  “Sure, I uh, I guess.”

  “Tacos are ready, are you hungry?” Sasha asks, but my mind is still back to where Sasha had my five-year-old daughter on a surfboard.

  “Yeah, starving. Was she wearing a life jacket?” I ask pointing outside at the water.

  Sasha scrunches up her face in a duh, do you think I’m an idiot look. “Uh, yeah, I wasn’t gonna let her drown. I’m a great swimmer, but I wouldn’t put her at risk.”

  Thank God. I don’t know why I was so worried. Sasha doesn’t seem like the irresponsible type, but I still don’t know her well.

  “Come on, let’s eat and then we can show your dad how you can stand up on the board.”

  “Yes! Come on, Daddy, hurry, eat!” Tori yells running to the kitchen tracking sand all the way.

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

  We sit down and eat the best damn chicken tacos I’ve ever tasted and talk about our day. “Oh, that cleaning lady came, by the way, Lilly, isn’t it? I didn’t look to see what all she did since you said she knows what she’s doing.”

  “That’s fine, I’m sure everything’s fine. Hey, I talked to Zion’s doctor today, and she’s going to be released on Friday. She’s feeling much better.”

  “Yay!” Tori yells. Sasha’s expression doesn’t change, and I wonder if that’s because she’s indifferent about her job ending or if she’s hiding her disappointment in front of Tori.

  “She won’t be a hundred percent, though, so I told her she needs to take some time off for a vacation. She hasn’t decided if she wants to go or not, but if she doesn’t, she will need another week or two to rest.”

  “We can take care of her, can’t we, Sasha?” she says looking up at Sasha with adoring eyes.

  “Sure, of course, we can. She’s your family.” They exchange a knowing look, and I wonder what’s going on with these two.

  “See, Daddy, you bring my Zion home, and me and my Sasha will take care of her.”

  Her Sasha. Zion is the only other person Tori has claimed as her own until now.

  “That’s great, I’m sure Zion will appreciate the help.”

  In true kid fashion, Tori hops up only moments after eating and yells over her shoulder as she runs to the patio, “Come watch me surf, Daddy!”

  “I can hardly move, you up for surfing?” I ask Sasha who is already up and pulling a sheer cover-up over her shoulders.

  “I’m always up for surfing. Come on, don’t be a party pooper.” I certainly can’t bow out now. Nobody calls me a party pooper. I get up and follow the energetic duo down to the beach where Tori is wiggling into her life jacket, and Sasha is carrying a longboard to the edge of the water.

  I sit in the warm sand and watch Sasha lift Tori onto the board and push her out a short, safe distance. Sasha stands next to Tori holding the board waiting for a wave, and when a small one swells, she pushes her into its line. Tori places her hands flat on the big board and pops up riding it toward the beach. I stand and clap my hands and cheer like she just won the biggest surfing competition in the world.

  When she emerges from the water, I can’t remember seeing her happier or more relaxed. She’s oozing confidence, and her smile is brighter than the sun.

  “She’s a natural,” Sasha says trudging up the sand to join me.

  “How did you do that? And in one day, I can’t believe it.”

  “I just told you how, she’s a natural. She doesn’t have a fear of the water, which can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the person. I’m teaching her to respect the ocean. I told her it’s very powerful. I think she gets it.”

  “Did you see, Daddy? Did you see me?” Tori says running toward me.

  “Yes, princess, you did awesome! I’m so proud.” I grab her waist and swing her wet body in a circle.

  “My Sasha’s a good teacher.”

  “I’d have to agree with that,” I say and smile at Sasha who is drying off with her towel.

  “She needs a boogie board to play around with. I brought that big tub so she could get on her feet, but if she’s going to surf a lot, she’ll need her own board.”

  “Anything you want. I have an American Express card for you inside. I forgot to give it to you this morning. Use it for anything you two need… household expenses, food, outings, gas, whatever.”

  “Oh, wow, okay.”

  “Can we go again?” Tori asks Sasha batting her long lashes trying to tempt her to stay on the beach.

  “A few more times then we have to go inside and get cleaned up for bed. I can’t believe you’re still awake myself. I’m exhausted.”

  I watch the two of them in the water, we finish their grand sandcastle, and we drag ourselves up the steps into the house when the sun threatens to go down on us.

  “I’ll give her a bath. Leave the kitchen. I’ll get it when she’s in bed,” Sasha says nudging Tori’s bottom up the stairs.

  “Come give me a kiss when you’re done,” I call out to Tori looking at Sasha. I wiggle my eyebrows, and she blushes and skips up the stairs.

  I rinse the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow while the two of them are gone. Then I pick up the living room a bit and stretch out on the couch. I must have been more tired than I thought because when I open my eyes, it’s been two hours, and the house is dark.

  Upstairs, I find Tori and Sasha sleeping in Tori’s bed. They both have on pajamas—Tori’s are lemon yellow frilly shorts and a matching top, and Sasha is in a knee-length satin floral number with spaghetti straps that instantly makes my cock hard.

  They’d been reading when they fell asleep. A stack of short stories is between them, and one is open and spread across Sasha’s chest. I pad across the room and kiss my comatose daughter on the forehead. She doesn’t even flinch she’s so exhausted, and that’s without her sleeping pills.

  Then, I carefully remove the stack of books from the bed and slip the one they were reading out of Sasha’s hands. I can’t take my eyes off of her perfect breasts under the satin nightgown. Her hard nipples beg for me to touch them, and the soft moan that escapes her lips when I cover her with a blanket makes me want to toss her over my shoulder like a caveman and haul her to my bed.

  I can’t do that, though, but I also can’t bring myself to leave her, so I pull up a chair and prop my feet on the edge of the bed to watch her sleep with an erection the size of the Willis Tower.

  Sasha Rivers makes the most erotic sounds when she sleeps. She also murmurs and makes facial expressions that make me want to know what she’s dreaming about. An hour later, I’m dozing off myself when I hear it.

  She says my name clear as day. I’m positive I didn’t misunderstand her. “Xander, please…”

  Oh shit. Xander, please what? Xander, please don’t stop? Xander, please kiss me? Xander, please leave me alone and never touch me again? No, she would never say that. I’ve gotten a few mixed signals from her but nothing l
ike that.

  I sit up and wait for her to say something else, but she’s quiet. I should walk away, let her sleep, and ignore the fact that she practically moaned my name in her sleep. Yeah right, no fucking way.

  Standing, I glance at Tori who is sprawled out like a starfish softly snoring on her back. That’s a sign that she’s deep sleeping and only an earthquake ranking a nine on the Richter Scale would begin to wake her. Perfect.

  I move to the edge of the bed and slip one arm under Sasha’s knees and the other under her neck. Lifting her light body easily, I start out of the room expecting her to wake up and protest, but she doesn’t.

  Instead, she nuzzles against my neck and murmurs something unintelligible. Good God, am I getting away with this? I know it’s wrong. I was going to give her time. I wasn’t going to rush her. I was going to move molasses-slow, but she’s just so damn beautiful.

  In my bedroom, I close the door for the first time in five years. I’ve never had a woman in my bed. I’m into one-night stands at hotels, or, if she’s single, at her house, but I never sleep over, and I never see the same woman twice.

  None of that applies to Sasha. I lay her down on the bed and sit next to her waiting for her to wake up. When she doesn’t, I move in and kiss her softly on her full, pouty lips. She opens for me, and I slide my tongue into her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s fully awake, or awake at all, but she is responsive, so I keep going.

  Her hands float up to my shoulders, and I ease myself on top of her nestling in between her legs. I pull away for a moment to look into her eyes and make sure this is okay, but they are closed.

  “Sasha? Are you awake?”

  “Shush, don’t talk, I’m dreaming.”

  I smile and press my erection against her belly. She opens her legs wide for me wrapping them around my waist in what I take as an invitation to continue.

  I trail kisses down her neck and slide her flimsy little nightie up her body giving me access to every inch of her gorgeous dark skin. As a plastic surgeon, I have a special appreciation of skin, bone structure, and other aspects of the human body. Sasha is perfect. Usually, I can find a flaw in any woman’s body but not hers.