Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(6)

Only … she won't let go.

“Come on, Gracie, baby. Auntie Brooke has a finite population sampling class that she's going to be fifteen minutes late to.” The kid has no sympathy for me, tearing a button off my shirt as I pry her away from me. The teacher gives me a look, but I don't have time to spend talking to her this morning.

I race back to the car, my white button-up flapping in the center, flashing my pink lacy bra. I'm starting to think things can't get much worse when my heel snaps and I go flying onto the pavement.

Fuck.

That really hurt.

I am in way over my head here.





They're monsters. Fucking monsters. Even the baby.

“Listen, Kinzie,” I say as she hauls out and kicks me in the ankle. I grit my teeth, but I'm kind of busy here. I've got a fat chihuahua tucked under one arm and some old, gross toothless one under the other. One of the things my brother neglected to mention to me was that his dogs are ridiculously cat aggressive.

Sweet.

Now I've got Hubert trapped on top of the fridge, the twins in the backyard throwing mud clods at each other, and Kinzie screaming that she wants me to die.

This is gonna be a fan-f*cking-tastic two weeks.

“Can you please take the dogs upstairs and put them back in the bathroom?” I ask as I try to hand her one of the disgusting smelly rat creatures. I miss my life so bad right now it hurts. The Strip, the hot sun, the sexy tourists, the smell of iodine at the shop. I make myself take a deep breath.

“They don't like being in the bathroom,” Kinzie says, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares up at me, brown eyes taking me in like she's not impressed. “Why is your skin all splotchy?” she asks. “And what happened to your hair?”

I roll my eyes, moving past her and up the stairs, tripping over toys as I struggle to make it to the bathroom at the top of the steps.

“Get in there, you nasty little rats.” I close the door and then run my inked fingers through my hair. If I can just get through this one weekend, then I'll have school to look forward to on Monday. That should be sick. How many hours do these monsters go for? I'll have to check Mercedes' dossier, I guess.

“Can I go play with my friends outside? I'm bored.”

I turn and find Kinzie hovering on the top step, looking at me like I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to her.

“Um.” I scratch the side of my head and try to remember the rules for that shit. Mercedes laid it all on pretty thick on our way to the airport. “Lemme check on that.”

She rolls her eyes and stomps into her room, slamming the door loud enough to shake the whole house—and wake the baby from her nap.

Fuckity f*ck.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” I move into my brother's room and look down at the weird wrinkly thing in its crib. Gross. Okay, so like, how do I pick this thing up? I tilt my head at the kid, using my tongue to play with my lip rings. People—much dumber people—do this kind of thing all the time. I should be able to figure this out. I slip my phone from my pocket and notice a text from Kitty. Huh. I don't remember giving her my number.

I programmed my digits into your phone when you were in the bathroom. You're a f*cking *, Zayden.

I scroll down to the next message.

I'll be back in town next weekend. Want to meet up?

I feel my lips curl back in a grin and then cringe when the baby lets out a piercing wail. What is it with kids and yelling all the time? I feel like I'm gonna go deaf here.

“Okay, Google,” I tell my phone. “How do you hold a baby?”

I tap my foot and play with my lip rings while I scroll through some idiotproof pics. Huh. Okay. Looks easy enough; I can do this.

“Alright, kid,” I say as I tuck my messy inked fingers under the baby's warm body. “Let's do this thing.” I heft the screeching bundle up to my chest and cradle it under my chin, glancing down at the phone screen and breezing through the rest of the instructions. “Stay confident and calm, huh? Well, I got that shit in spades.”

“You said the S-word,” Kinzie chortles from behind me. “You have to put a dollar in the curse jar.” I glance down at the little monster with its brown curls in pigtails and its face all scrunched up. Some people might think it's cute, but to me, it looks like a pink-overall-wearing demon.

“Like hell I am,” I say as I sneak my phone back into my pocket and make my way toward the stairs. “Listen, kid, but I'm here as favor to your mom, alright? I'm not putting money in any curse jar. What are you guys trying for, the ultimate TV family cliché? Lemme guess … you've got a chore chart and a soccer team, huh?”

“You'll put money in the curse jar or I'll scream and I won't stop.”

I turn back at the landing, already trying to puzzle out if this baby in my arms is supposed to drink from a bottle or if I can order in takeout and give it a piece of cut up pizza or something.

“Be my guest, cupcake,” I say with a smug smirk. What I've gotta do right now is establish boundaries with these kids, let 'em know who's boss. I'm a twenty-nine year old man, and let's be honest: I've never had any trouble with women before. The kid might be, like, seven or whatever, but I can still charm the heck outta her.

But then I notice the smile curling across her lips and the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up.