Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(72)

“Boys will be boys,” the man says and I find myself gritting my teeth as I collect the twins and make them put their hands on the stroller. They're so slippery that Zay and I have almost lost them three times since we got here a half an hour ago. The only way I can keep watch on them is to play this game where they have to touch the stroller at all times.

“Boys will be boys? What kind of bullshit is that? So he has a right to act like a brat? Screw that. Tell your son to keep his f*cking hands off my niece.”

“My son has a right to be a boy,” the man says and I watch in horror as Zayden's colored fists tighten, his knuckles turning into sharp points of bone beneath his marked skin. “Now back your faggot ass off and let's be done with this.”

Zayden closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and then opens them back up to smile at the man.

“You might want to send your son away for this one,” he says as the man starts to turn and then shakes his head at Zayden. Zay waits for a minute as the brat boy scrambles back into the playground and then reaches out and puts his hand on the father's shoulder.

“Fuck you,” the man says as he turns back and scowls.

Without warning, Zay's fist explodes into the guy's face and I kid you not, the man practically topples over, falling to the foam covered floor like a board. All around the playground, I hear the adults go silent.

Uh-oh.

“Want to play a game?” I whisper to the kids. “Let's all race to the car. If everyone plays fairly, you'll all get a prize.”

I start pushing Sadie's stroller, grabbing Zayden by his muscular arm and dragging him away before anybody gets it together enough to stop him.

As soon as we hit the parking lot, we all start to run, and we don't stop until we're piling into the minivan and peeling the hell out of there.

Maybe I should be mad at Zayden or maybe I should be explaining to the kids that violence doesn't solve problems but … that guy was a serious *. Screw him. I feel like I've spent a good portion of my life trying not to rock the boat.

I glance over at Zayden as he shakes his head and smiles wryly, flexing the fingers of his right hand. Here's somebody who's definitely not afraid, who does his own thing when he wants and how he wants. Maybe he doesn't always make the right choice—punching some a-hole in the mall probably wasn't the right choice—but at least he stood up for himself, for Grace.

I smile.

“You are so goddamn stupid,” I say as I look down at the hole in the knee of my jeans. When I glance back over at Zayden, he's looking at the road with his eyebrows raised and his lips pursed. “But also kind of cool.”

His lips curl into a smirk as he reaches over and playfully taps me in the shoulder.

“Boys will be boys, right?” he jokes as I laugh my ass off, until there are tears streaming from the corners of my eyes.

“You're the best nanny ever,” I say and he touches a hand to his chest.

“Aww, you flatter me,” Zayden mocks, batting his lashes at me.

I smile back at him, but I hope he knows that I'm telling the truth.

I really am gonna miss this guy.





I can see the change in Brooke as soon as the last of the kids falls asleep, the way she starts pacing and threading her fingers together, stretching them out in front of herself as she paces.

I cross my own arms over my chest and tilt my head to the side as I watch her. She looks so cute and fresh in her tight, little t-shirt and jeans, those crazy heels she's wearing. I'm inclined to grab her and toss her onto the couch for a quick f*ck, but I think we need to use our last few nights wisely. I have yet to go down on her, and there is no way in hell I'm going home without showing her all of my tricks.

“You okay over there, Smarty-Pants?” I ask as she leans down to pick up Hubert in his stupid black and white striped sweater. Brooke cuddles him to her chest and he lifts that ugly pale pink head of his to rub against her chin. Friendliest I have ever seen the damn creature in my life, swear to God. “You look like you're about to shit a brick.”

“I'm contemplating,” she says with a lift of her chin, that long dark hair tucked in a braid. Hubs bats at it as she strokes her hand over his sweater.

I take a few steps closer and drop my hand to the cat's head; he hisses at me but doesn't bite me like he usually does. Score. Even my * cat likes this chick.

“Contemplating … f*cking me?” I ask and laugh as Brooke rolls her eyes dramatically. “Because I have a very specific little game in mind for tonight. We've checked off a lot of boxes this week, Smarty-Pants, but we've missed one of the Big Four.”

“Big Four?” Brooke asks, that perfect arched brow of hers accented by the piercing I gave her. It looks so goddamn good on her face. I wish I was going to be around to suck on it once it heals. Damn and double damn.

“Yep,” I say, trying to be sexy as I lift up my right hand and splay it against the wall next to Brooke's head. I lean in all sultry and shit and then feel a rapid thumping against my boot, glancing down to find that stupid hairless rat going at it with my Docs. “Whoa. No means no, Dodger, you dick.”

I shove him away with my foot as Brooke laughs and spins out of my embrace, moving to the opposite side of the coffee table as she continues to stroke and cuddle my cat. I turn and watch her with a smirk building on my lips.