Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(10)

“Naw,” he says, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. “Personally, I like getting poked.” A wink that's clearly meant in a flirtatious sort of way. “Got any piercings?”

I shake my head and smile.

“Same problem. The whole … you know, poking thing.”

“Gotcha,” he says as he looks me over again, clearly checking me out. Basically, I'm in complete shock. I'm wearing torn nude tights, a brown chiffon skirt, and a white tee that's a little too small for me. On my feet are a pair of suede boots with scuffed toes. Essentially, I'm a hot mess. “So, how come your,” a pause to look down at my hand, checking for a ring I think, “boyfriend isn't here with you today?”

I raise my eyebrows as my heart starts to pound. Holy crap. This guy really is hitting on me.

“I don't currently have a boyfriend,” I say, trying not to think about that particular screw up. Three years with the wrong guy, a guy who was supposed to be perfect. And the reason I'm still carrying my V-card. He said he wanted to wait until marriage, that his faith was important to him. Yet, he was sleeping with my friend on the side. Yeah. Great. “I'm not looking for one either,” I add, even though I really like the idea of this guy liking me.

“Well,” Mr. Tattoo says, handing his phone out to me. “I've got plans to bring the kids over here tomorrow, too. If you're gonna be around, we could always hang out. No strings attached. Personally, I'm not a fan of the tangled little f*ckers either.”

I smile and—almost reluctantly—accept the phone from his hand. I am so stopping by the store and using the last of my money on a new one after this. I plug in my number and hand it back, knowing as I do though that I'm probably making a mistake here. I've got two kids and a dog to worry about, a degree, a … job. A job that I hopefully won't have to go to. If I look hard enough, maybe I could find a gas station or convenience store gig, something overnight that doesn't involve … that.

“Maybe I could bring bread for the ducks?” I say, even though I don't expect anything to come of this.

Zayden flashes another grin at me as Bella and Grace wave me over from the direction of the slide.

“Come watch!” Bella yells as they dart up the steps.

“Sounds like a plan,” he tells me as I stand up and wave good-bye.

I really don't expect to see Mr. Tattooed and Handsome ever again.

And I especially don't expect that I'll be asking him to be the girls' nanny.

Funny how life works out sometimes, isn't it?





If I'm gonna be in town, I might as well have a little fun. The young looking mom with the kids was f*cking ballin', baby. She had no idea how hot she was in that little white tee, her flat bare belly showing above the waistband of that ugly skirt. I mean, not that I mind a chick that knows how hot she is, but Brooke was so clueless it was kind of funny.

I grin and spin my phone in my hand, getting ready to shoot her a text message. I've also got sexy little Kitty waiting for our video chat session tonight. Maybe these two weeks don't have to be god-f*cking-awful, right?

I park my butt on the couch just in time to hear a crackle from the baby monitor. Shit. Don't I, like, ever get a break here? I mean this is nonstop. How does Mercedes ever find time for games? Seriously. Does the woman not sleep?

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” I clomp up the steps two at a time, setting my phone down next to the baby's crib and hefting Sadie into my arms. She screams and throws her fuzzy brown head back, wailing like a goddamn banshee. A fist pounds on the wall from next door and I hear a grumbling shout. Motherf*cker. What the hell am I gonna do about a goddamn baby? I mean, it's not like I enjoy kids or anything, but seriously? What is that asswad's problem?

I scowl as I carry the kid downstairs and manage to juggle getting a bottle under the hot water, all the while trying to pretend that it's not Mercedes' breast milk that's inside the clear plastic.

“It's cow tit juice instead, right?” I coo at Sadie as I bounce her and try to get her to relax. It doesn't work, no matter how I move or what I purr at her in babbled baby talk. Damn it. I balance the baby against one shoulder and squirt some milk onto my skin to check the temperature. Yeah, I actually read Mercedes' dossier. This guy knows what he's doing.

Sort of.

When I sit down and try to feed the little chick, she won't take the nipple in her mouth, screaming and howling around it. When I check her diaper, I find it … full of crap. Jesus. So that's what the smell was. Personally, I thought it was the f*cking chihuahuas. They go every which where it seems. I keep stepping on tiny poops.

I am in literal hell.

I change Sadie's diaper and she finally calms down, falling asleep on my shoulder before I deposit her upstairs. By the time I do, I find my phone's all blown up from Kitty and her texts and calls.

Not around, I guess. Well, screw you. I've got other options.

I mouth the word shiiiiiiiiiit and then fall onto my back on my brother's bed, bangin' out a quick response.

Tomorrow night? Sorry, babe. The baby was crying.

Hopefully that'll win me some sympathy points, right? I'm about to put the phone away when I think of that girl, Brooke. What the hell? I'll send her a text, too. She doesn't want a boyfriend right now; the last thing I want is a girlfriend.