: Chapter 2

The sound of a bunch of boxes hitting the floor turns my attention down the aisle at the grocery store and I see a little girl climbing up the shelf right where there are about fifteen boxes of cookies on the ground beneath her. I blink a few times while I watch this little girl act out a scene from the cartoon Rugrats. I push my cart a little closer to her before darting my eyes around the empty aisle in search of her parents or anyone that might be responsible for her.

“Do you need some help?” I ask her.

She turns her head in my direction and looks at me from over the top of pink heart-shaped sunglasses. “No, I got it!” she says with a tiny strain in her voice as she climbs up another shelf in her quest for a box at the top.

“Okay, how about I grab that for you? Just so you don’t fall,” I tell her as I pull her down gently and set her on her feet.

“Are you tall enough to reach?” she says looking up at me referring to my short height, and I resist the urge to glare at her. I grab the box—okay, while straining on my tip toes—before handing it to her and looking at all the boxes that lay at her feet.

“Did you do this?” I point to the mess.

“Mmmm nuh-uh.” She shakes her head while holding the box against her chest.

“You sure?”

“Mmmm maybe,” she relents with a guilty smile before pushing her hair out of her face. She has bangs that seem like she’s due for a trim but her long chocolate hair is pulled into a ponytail on top of her head. She’s dressed in all pink with a little purse on her shoulder and while she is adorable as hell, I just know she has to be a handful.

“Do you want me to help you clean it up?”

She nods and we start putting the boxes back on the shelf. Just as we put away the last box, a voice comes over the loudspeaker. “Isla Kincaid, please report to the front of the store, thank you.”

I look down at the cute little girl who is currently avoiding my eyes. “Is that you?”

She purses her lips. “Nope,” she says popping the p.

“I don’t think I believe that,” I tell her. “How about we just go check, just in case?”

She huffs. “Okay.”

“Are you here with your mommy?”

“No, she died.” She looks up at me, and though I can’t see her eyes through the pink lenses, I can see the sadness all over her.

My heart squeezes in my chest thinking about this young girl going through something I’m still going through a decade later and I kneel down so we’re at eye level. “I’m really sorry to hear that. My mommy died too.”

She pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and then I do see her eyes. Light brown and wide and lined with long lashes I’m instantly jealous of. “Really?”

I nod. “When I was older than you.”

She frowns and I watch the tears form as her bottom lip wobbles a little. “It sucks.” Not wanting to watch her cry, I rub her back gently. Then she wraps her arms around my neck, and though I am great with kids and they all seem to gravitate toward me, I wonder why no one has taught this particular one about stranger danger. She pulls away after a second and wipes her eyes before lowering her sunglasses again, like a defense mechanism I imagine she’ll use for the rest of her life.

“It does suck but are you allowed to say that word?” She purses her lips again and shakes her head. I smile at her before I stand up and we move down the aisle. “I’m Elianna, but people call me Ellie. What’s your name?”

“Isla,” she says and I gasp in faux surprise.

“You are! So, you fibbed?” I raise an eyebrow at her and I’m surprised she looks guilty. “Are you here with your dad?”

“No, my—”

“Jesus, Isles,” I hear from the front of the aisle as a man makes his way toward us. He’s dressed down in a long-sleeved t-shirt with the words Bulldogs Football on the front, a pair of shorts, and a backward hat. He has sunglasses tucked into his collar and I’ll admit he’s easy on the eyes. He’s obviously a coach or something, and while guys in sports don’t typically do much for me or my vagina, he definitely has that look that tells me he cleans up very nicely. “I turned my head for five seconds.”

“I needed cookies!” she says as she holds up the box over her head like it’s a trophy.

“Tell me next time! If I go home without you, your dad is going to fucking kill me.”

So, not her dad. And assumedly the person who taught her the word “sucks.”

His eyes turn to me and widen before a smile pulls at his lips despite the look I’m giving him for using the word fuck in front of an impressionable child. “Hi, I’m sorry.”

“You know you can’t turn your back on a child for a second.” I nod at her. My words are only meant to be a little bit scolding but I hope he senses the teasing lilt in my voice.

“She knows better.” He looks at Isla before turning back to me. “I’m River, her uncle.” He holds his hand out for me.

“I’m Elianna.” I shake his hand before looking down at Isla. “Well, River and Isla, it was nice to meet you both.”

I start to walk away when I hear a high-pitched, “Wait!”

I turn again and Isla is skipping toward me, away from her uncle who is watching us from several feet away. “I need a nanny.”

“I’m sorry?”

“A nanny! Daddy says I need one.”

“Isles, we can’t just ask random ladies in the store,” River says as he closes the distance between us, and I don’t miss the way his eyes look me over appreciatively. “Unless you’re interested.” I blink at him a few times hearing the double meaning. “My brother is interviewing. He’s going through a tough time right now. What with their mom…” He trails off and I remember vividly how hard my dad had it when my mom died.

I’m the oldest of three girls and I’d stepped into the role when she died because my dad couldn’t afford the help. We did okay, but I was old enough and he worked all the time which means I didn’t really have a social life until I went to college when I was nineteen. I’d only been there for a year when my middle sister, who was sixteen at the time, got pregnant and I dropped out of school to help and be there for her. I didn’t go back until two years later when I was twenty-one, and now at twenty-five, I’ve just graduated with a degree in psychology.

River clears his throat and finishes his sentence about Isla’s mother. “She passed away.”

I feel for this family in this situation. I look down at Isla who reminds me so much of my youngest sister who went down a very different path than our middle sister and is currently in her first year of college at Yale. I’ve been an au pair three times already, spending entire summers with families in their vacation homes and I just finished my last one to come back here and start graduate school. I wasn’t planning to be a nanny while I was in school. It’s a significant time commitment, but I wouldn’t hate the extra income either.

“I am actually…a nanny.” I look back and forth between them. “I was planning to take a break because I just started school.”

River’s eyes widen and he takes a step back before putting his hands up. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—I mean…”

“Oh, not undergrad. I delayed a few times. I’m twenty-five.”

A look of relief washes over him. “Great. Not that…it would have been bad, but the oldest is sixteen and I don’t know that an eighteen-year-old would have worked for that.” He laughs and my eyes widen at the thought of being a nanny to someone only nine years younger than me.

“She doesn’t really need a nanny. Although she does have a boyfriend and I sometimes worry she’ll get knocked up due to all the lack of supervision.”

Two girls. Sounds like this guy has his hands full.

“What’s knocked up?” Isla interjects while looking up at her uncle.

“Ask your dad,” he says before turning back to me, and I resist the urge to chuckle.

“I bet he’ll love that.” I bite my bottom lip. “Just two?”

He scratches the back of his neck and gives me a nervous look. “There’s a boy also. He’s ten.”

“Three?” I whistle and cross my arms over my chest. I don’t miss the way River’s eyes drop immediately toward the movement before moving back up to meet my gaze. “That is tough. He doesn’t have any help?”

“Me, when I can. Our parents live in Arizona and they come up when they can, but my brother didn’t want them to uproot their life.” He winces. “But he’s…drowning,” he says before his lips form a straight line.

I think about my dad and the sacrifices he made because he didn’t have any help raising us, and I think about the sixteen-year-old who is possibly being denied the chance to be a teenager because she’s having to help raise her two younger siblings. Then I think about her getting pregnant because no one is around to keep her—and more importantly, her hormones—in check.

“Okay, I’ll meet your brother.”

Okay, the Kincaids do not live like I did while I was growing up. I pull up to the massive house in the gated community in Potomac, which is not only one of the nicest cities in the state but in the country. I park in the circular driveway and note a four-car garage with three cars parked out front. A Maserati, an Audi, and a BMW. Next to them is a boy, who I assume is the son, washing one of them.

I get out of my car, alerting him to my presence, and when he looks up at me he drops his sponge in the bucket before making his way over. “Here for the nanny interview?” He looks so much like the uncle it makes me wonder how much the brother and the father look alike. I notice he seems a little on the taller side for ten years old.

“I am.”

He looks me over like he’s silently judging me. “You don’t look that old.”

“Thank you,” I say with a tiny curtsy.

“I just mean…the people that have been here…they’ve been older than my dad.” His cheeks pinken a little. “You’re just…younger.” He trips over his words and I know this narrative well. I’ve dealt with boys that have had crushes on me before, but that usually passes the second they realize I’m not a pushover and I make them finish their homework before they can do anything else.

“I see.” I point to my car. “You have time to do mine?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “for twenty bucks.”

“For twenty bucks, I can go to an actual car wash,” I respond. “How about five?”

He snorts. “How about no?”

So, a bit of smart ass then. “Hmmm.” I narrow my eyes at him. “As much as I enjoy being hustled by a ten-year-old, I have to go meet with your dad.” I turn to walk away before pausing and looking back at him. “Keep your fingers crossed I don’t get the job. Conversations won’t go quite like this if I do.” I raise my eyebrows before moving up the long staircase to the front door.

I’m just about to ring the doorbell when Isla appears with a different pair of sunglasses on her face; these are yellow with star frames to match her all-yellow outfit. “Ellie!” She grabs my hand and pulls me through the door before shutting it behind me. “DADDY!” she screams very loudly and I briefly wonder why no one has taught her about inside voices.

“Isla Kincaid, enough with the yelling.” I hear him before I see him, and then he comes around the corner, dressed in a full suit complete with a tie like he’s just coming in from the office, sporting a stern look across his face directed at her.

She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side. “I wanted to make sure you could hear me!”

“I’d be able to hear you from outer space, sweetheart.” His voice softens, and it’s deep and rich and hot. Like he could narrate one of my romance audiobooks.

She ignores his comment, not grasping the sarcasm. “Daddy, this is Ellie.” She points at me.

“Right, you’re the woman that my brother and youngest child tricked into coming here.” His eyes meet mine. They’re green or maybe hazel and he gives me a dazzling smile before holding out his hand. Instantly, I know I can’t take this job. I was reluctant at first with it being a single dad but a single dad that looks like this? Nope. Nope. Nope. I finally have some stability in my life after years of just the opposite. The last thing I want or need is to feel any kind of attraction to the father of the children I’m nannying. This is a recipe for disaster.

The reminder that he’s recently widowed comes through my brain and I feel somewhat relieved knowing he’s probably still deep in the mourning period, and thereby, not interested. So, there’s no way I’d make a move, no matter how gorgeous he is.

And Rowan Kincaid is gorgeous.

“How old are you?” I blurt out, my brain clearly not working because that is not an appropriate question.

“Forty-four,” Isla answers and he glares at her.

“Forty-three, thank you. Please go play.”

She giggles and takes off for another room in the house.

“Sorry, I just…you’re younger than I thought you’d be.”

“I’d say the same but believe me, my brother sang your praises.” He nods toward the way he came. “We can go to my office.”

I follow him down a long hallway to a room at the end of the hall. He closes the door behind us and sits behind his desk. “Look, I appreciate you coming. I know my daughter can be very persuasive and if you felt backed into a corner, I apologize.” I note how tired his eyes are and the solemn look he’s giving me.

“No…I don’t feel that way. Your daughter is lovely. Very sweet. A bit mischievous. I found her climbing the shelves in the cookie aisle. I’m not sure if she told you that.”

“She did not.” He sighs, running a hand through his short dark hair. “I told her to stop doing that.”

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about your situation? Isla mentioned that your wife passed away—”

“She said that?” he interjects, his expression confused and I nod.

“Okay, so their mother yes. She died a year ago, but we’d been divorced for about three years before that. So, my ex-wife, technically,” he clarifies. “Isla doesn’t talk about that much though, so I’m just surprised she told you.”

“She doesn’t?”

“She was only five and…I think she’s still struggling with what it all means. She’s also my happy-go-lucky child. Nothing bothers her. She’s always smiling. She rarely cries.”

My mind goes back to our interaction at the grocery store and the thought that her eyes welled up with tears in front of a perfect stranger, moments after her mom was brought up has me wondering if her father is talking to his kids about her at all or if it’s that thing they don’t talk about.

“I see…and you have two others?”

“A son, Sawyer. He’s ten and my daughter, Margot, is sixteen.”

“Does Margot help you with day-to-day things?”

“As much as she can, yes. I’m an attorney and there are a lot of nights I’m home late. Later than I’d like. She helps with cooking and putting them to bed at a reasonable time.” Reasonable meaning, Sawyer is probably up watching TV or on his iPad until he hears the garage door open alerting him that his father is home.

“How will she react to having a nanny? Sometimes teenagers at that age, particularly girls, struggle with having what they deem as just a babysitter.” I use my fingers as air quotes.

“She’ll deal with it. I think part of her is happy to have some of her freedom back. She has to come home from practice most days and I know she’d rather go to her school’s sporting events or do things with her friends after school. She’s currently grounded, but when that’s over, I know she’ll be happy to not have to rush right home after her cheer practice.”

“Grounded from…sneaking a boy into the house, correct?”

He winces before he leans back in his chair. “My brother told you?”

I nod. “Are you concerned about that?”

“Name a father who isn’t concerned about his sixteen-year-old daughter and her boyfriend and I’ll show you a liar.”

I clear my throat as I attempt to broach a topic that no father wants to have. “Is she…have you talked to her about being safe?”

“God no. I’m not concerned about that per se, and I don’t even want to put that thought in her head. She’d better not be having sex.”

I frown not knowing if he’s being naive or blatantly ignorant on purpose.

“But what if she is? She’s sixteen and more than likely had the thought already.” While I lost my virginity somewhat later in life because I was forced into being ‘the responsible one,’ sixteen was the age when a lot of my friends and my younger sister lost theirs.

His eyes snap to mine like I just uttered the most ridiculous sentence. “Can we not talk about this?”

“That’s not really how it works.”

His brows pinch together and I see the agitation forming on his face by the second. “Excuse me?”

“Not talking about it isn’t going to magically make it not a problem. I know a lot of fathers defer to the mother about this but she doesn’t have one and from what I’m gathering there is no strong adult female presence, which means this falls on you unless you want to be a grandfather in nine months.”

He scoffs like I’ve insulted him. “My daughter isn’t like that.”

“It’s not about being like anything.” I shrug thinking about my younger sister who was the model straight-A student with all the extracurricular activities in the world and still had the time to get pregnant. “All kinds of girls get into trouble with the boys they think they’re in love with. All I’m saying is having the conversation now can save you from having a very different conversation later.”

“I don’t need a lecture.” His voice is even but still with a hint of defensiveness.

“You’re right. She does,” I tell him and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell me about your son. Why do you have him outside washing cars? I’m going to guess it was not his idea.”

“He’s suspended from school. He goes back on Monday,” he says without offering more information.

I raise an eyebrow at him as if to say, ‘You’re going to have to give me more than that.’ “For…?”

“Starting a fire in a trashcan,” he says without meeting my gaze.

What in God’s name has been happening here?

“How did he get a lighter?”

“He’s ten. He knows how to open cabinets.” His eyes snap to mine, confused with a hint of annoyance.

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No.”

“Did he say why he did it?”

“I’m guessing for attention?”

“Did you ask?”

A flash of annoyance crosses his handsome face. “Yes, Elianna, I asked.” The way he says my name sends a tiny tremor skating through me. Almost like he’s scolding me.

Feeling both a little turned on, but mostly irritated by his response, I push further. “And you couldn’t get a straight answer?”

“He said he thought it would be fun.”

“Did you stress how dangerous it could be? What if someone had gotten hurt?”

“Well, thankfully, no one did. He put it out himself with a fire extinguisher, once it got out of hand.”

“He knows how to use a fire extinguisher?”

“He’s too smart for his own good, unfortunately.” He rolls his eyes followed by a smile that makes a flash of heat move through me.

“Have you explored the thought that maybe he’s not being challenged enough and should go up a grade?”

“Thoroughly.”

“And?”

He sighs again, this time in frustration like he’s tired of the line of questioning. “He’s not ready for middle school.”

“I see.” I think about how much help this family really needs and as much as I want to, I’m not sure I’m the answer. “Mr. Kincaid—”

“Rowan,” he interrupts and when I meet his eyes, they look exhausted.

I remember River’s comment about him drowning and I opt for a question instead. “How many people have you seen before me?”

“Twelve,” he says quietly.

“In how many days?”

“Two.”

Yikes. “And none of them were a good fit?”

“In their eyes, no.”

“Three kids are tough.” I think about all the women who probably heard this exact spiel and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes not meeting mine.

“Were they close with their mother?”

“I’d like to think they were equally close with us both. We had joint custody.”

I’m silent for a moment as I think about how difficult this transition has probably been on all of them. “Who would you say is taking it the hardest?”

“My oldest, I think. They were close.” Just my brief interaction with Isla and hearing about Sawyer’s very obvious acting out makes me want to refute this immediately, but I’ll reserve judgment until I spend more time with all of them.

“My mom died when I was a little younger than Margot, so I probably get her a little bit. I have two younger sisters that I helped raise. We struggled a lot and I wish I’d had help. My dad was busy working and a lot of things fell on me. He was a great dad, just…not always present.” I’m already regretting the words that are preparing to leave my lips but I know I won’t be able to get this family out of my head if I walk away. “I want to help you.”

“You. PROMISED,” my best friend, Jacqueline, says as she lifts the shot of tequila to her lips. “You said no nannying this semester so you could have a life and we could actually hang out more than once a month!” she whines as she lets her head drop to the hightop table where we are seated at our favorite bar. “This is so unfair. You’re going to live there too?”

“They need a live-in nanny. It’s two young kids and he works late a lot and he worries that the sixteen-year-old is on the precipice of starting to sneak out of the house and the middle child will cover for her.” I haven’t met the oldest yet and I couldn’t quite get a read on her based on what her father told me.

“You’re going to nanny for a sixteen-year-old? God, can I watch?” She snorts. “Girl or boy?”

“Girl,” I say before taking a healthy sip of my spicy margarita because the thought of nannying for a girl at that age is definitely something new for me.

“Oooh, she’s going to haaate you,” Jacqueline sings as she tucks a sleek black strand behind her ear. “You meet her yet?”

“No, she wasn’t home, but I’m going back to meet her tomorrow.”

“How’s the dad?” she asks with a smirk.

“Ugh, don’t start.” I drag a chip through the spinach dip between us.

“Is he hot? Please tell me he’s hot.” I push the chip into my mouth, so I don’t have to answer that and avoid her gaze but she grabs my chin and turns me toward her. “No way.”

I swallow nervously and wince. “Way.”

“Oh my God, oh my God! This is gold.”

I pull out of her grasp and stare at her incredulously. “Since when are you into a guy with kids? You don’t even like kids! You won’t even date a man who has an attachment to their niece or nephew because you don’t want to go to children’s birthday parties,” I tell her.

“All true, but this is gold for you and hopefully your vagina.”

“It’s absolutely not like that.” I shake my head not wanting to think about his eyes or his mouth or the way his hand felt wrapped around mine when he shook it. “He’s going to be my boss.”

“Do you have any idea how hot the single daddy nanny trope is?” she asks.

“Yes, I’m familiar,” I reply sardonically.

“What’s his name?” she asks as she pulls her beer to her lips.

“Rowan Kincaid.”

“God, even his name sounds like sex. Besides, you rarely nanny for single dads. What’s so special about this family?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, knowing exactly why I agreed but not in the mood for the Jacqueline Woods inquisition and her turning me into her latest psych study. I spin my straw around my drink while I avoid her gaze and prepare to tell her the truth. “Their mom just died and…I just feel for them I guess.”

“Oh, of course.” She smacks her head.

I groan. “Don’t start.”

“Me? You’re trying to rewrite the past. If you fuck the single dad, we are going to have a long talk about your daddy issues, Ellie.”

“I am not going to fuck him!” I haven’t had sex with anyone in almost six years and I certainly am not going to break my unofficial vow of celibacy with the father of the kids I’m nannying. I’m not avoiding sex necessarily; I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to sleep with after the horrifying experience of losing my virginity. And the two times after that. I’ve dated casually but it hasn’t gone further than kissing and a couple of hand jobs that I worry I didn’t even do correctly.

“Does he know that? Because you’re also about to be the gorgeous twenty-five-year-old temptation living under his roof and raising his kids.”

“He was perfectly professional when we met.”

“Professional, till he was jacking off before you even made it out of the driveway.” She snorts before stealing a French fry off my plate.

“Ugh, shut up,” I scoff while also not trying to let myself think too hard about his hand wrapped around his—no.

“I’m just saying…” she says putting her hands up in defense. “Look, I know you don’t date much, but living with a hot single man…” She purses her lips and leans forward. “Things happen, you know.”

“And you know my rule. I don’t pursue anything with anyone in connection to the family. I just want to help them. I’ve been thinking about Isla tearing up in the grocery store when she said her mom died for three days now.”

Jacqueline knows how much I give my heart to the kids I nanny and I can already hear the lecture coming about not getting attached when it’s obvious I already am. “How long do you think you’ll be there?”

“We are doing a sixty-day trial and then we’ll reevaluate.” She gives me a look from across the table and I groan. “What?”

“Well, it’s just you usually have an endpoint. Usually just for a summer, which is three months. This sounds like you’re potentially signing on until the youngest turns eighteen.”

“No, I mean…I don’t know. The money is good and I have the time. He knows I just have to go to campus once a week to meet with my advisor for an hour and Margot will be home at that time. He’s also giving me two weekends off a month, so relax, we can still hang out.” Her eyes light up and she does a little dance in her seat. “But I doubt I’ll be there for twelve years. Besides, he may meet someone.”

“Yeah,” she snorts before taking a sip of her drink, “the hot nanny sleeping in his guest room.”