Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(69)

It looks nice. Really nice actually.

I turn back to Zayden and wrinkle my nose.

“I think she was floundering before she ever got started.”

He laughs and then pauses when a fist slams into the wall next to us, gritting his teeth as he curls his hands into fists.

“That motherf*cker better be out of there by the time my brother gets back, or I swear to God …” I grin and reach up to take Zayden's face between my hands, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that shuts him up almost instantly before he grins back at me. Then I reach down and take his hand, leading him outside and over to his sister-in-law's minivan.

I don't look at his beat up old Geo because I really, really don't want to think about him driving back to Las Vegas in it.



Monica looks like she's halfway to the grave when we get home that night, already waiting on the porch with her coat on by the time we get out of the van. When she sees the piercing in my eyebrow, hers shoot up to her hairline.

“They're all asleep,” she says and then breezes past us to get back to the sleek black sexiness of her car, zooming into the night without so much as a wave good-bye.

“Stupid bitch,” I snap and Zay laughs, lifting up his hand for a high five. I smack him palm to palm and feel my toes curl when he wraps his fingers around mine and brings them to his lips for a kiss.

“Exactly. Fuck her,” Zayden says, pulling me inside to the quiet, easy sounds of Sadie's breathing. The other kids must be upstairs because I don't see them. From my spot near the front door, I have a clear shot at the back and can see the dogs waiting eagerly at the glass.

I head over there to let them in, suddenly nervous about what's going to happen. Zayden and I just did it—twice. Are we going to go upstairs and do it again? Are we going to sleep in the same bed for the rest of his time here? Can I handle that?

I bend down and pick up Dodger, dislodging a few small twigs that are wrapped in the thin fluff of white hair around his head and neck. It's literally like, all of the hair he has and he manages to get stuff stuck in it. Figures.

“Want some leftover casserole?” Zayden asks as he spins his way into the kitchen and grabs a hold of his iPod. It's covered in a questionable sticky substance no doubt left by one of the children, but he doesn't care, just wipes it off on his shirt and picks a song, turning it to a low volume so he won't wake Sadie.

I groan.

“No,” I say as I skip over and look for something that could be considered a compromise. “I hate Tove Lo,” I say and Zayden drops his jaw like I've just insulted the Virgin Mary or something. “And I really hate that “Talking Body” song.”

“Seriously? I think it's adorable,” he says as he grooves to it in his too cute black and red Converse with the little skeletons on the sides. Yet another pair of knee-high wins in my book. Paired with the skinny jeans and the silly video game shirt, well, it's just precious. He's this naughty mixture of bad and nerdy with all those tats and piercings. I could stare at this guy for hours and not get bored.

Zayden ruffles the hair on the left side of his head as he pulls the casserole from the fridge and starts spooning it into a pair of white bowls.

I look through Spotify for a minute and decide that he might actually like “Game Over” by Falling in Reverse. I feel like it's pop-y enough that Zay could get into it.

“Check this out,” I say as I start the music and Zayden starts bobbing his head, tossing the bowls into the microwave and pressing start. He dances his way over to me and puts his arm around my waist, dragging me into yet another impromptu dance session.

I go with it, letting him press our bodies together in a warm embrace that makes my thighs clench tight with need. It's a bouncy song, so our dance isn't exactly a romantic waltz, but it still makes me laugh when Zay twirls me in a circle and catches me again.

“This song's all about video game metaphors, I see?”

“Thought you might like it,” I say as his grin gets huge.

“Tomorrow,” he says, like that's super important for some reason. Zayden claps his hands together and I can't help but lock my eyes onto his tattoos, on the open book on one hand and the sword and shield on the other. The more I look, the more little things I see buried in there, like the cluster of balloons with skulls and crossbones on them, the smiling pit bull face, and the tiny hairless cat with a … sweater?

I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Tomorrow,” I mumble as Zayden pulls the bowls from the microwave and curses at how hot they are. “What about tomorrow?”

“No school, no work. You want to stay up all night and play a game with me?” Zayden pauses and gives me a theatrical wink. “And not just a sex game, although we'll get to that eventually. You want to play something stupid and shitty and ridiculously fun?”

“Why the hell not?” I ask, hating the way my heart flutters and dances when Zayden does a fist pump and scoops up half of his casserole in one bite. I like the way he eats, with his bowl up close to his chin and his entire fist gripping the handle of the spoon. He scoops food into his mouth with a methodical sort of purpose. I don't know if I've ever actually noticed the way someone eats before. Is that a weird thing to notice?

“Come on,” Zay says, tilting his head to the side and leading me into the living room. He's done with his food before we even sit down, putting himself up against the arm opposite the TV and dragging me into his lap. With Zayden's chin on my shoulder and his arms wrapped around me, I feel that shifting, sliding thing happen inside my chest and try to fight it back.