All Stars Fall (Seaside Pictures #3.5)(10)

“NDA?” I guessed.

He gave me a funny look. “Well, yeah, but it’s more or less a contract in writing that states you won’t sell pictures of my kids on the internet.”

I gaped. “People do that?”

“You’d be surprised what people would do for money,” was all he said as he handed me a pen.

I scribbled my name across the dotted line and handed the pen back to him, his fingers warm as they grazed my skin.

I felt that touch more than a nanny should.

This was going to be a problem.

The awareness I had of him.

The way I couldn’t stop looking at him.

And the way he seemed to be doing the same to me.

“So.” I rocked back on my heels. “I’m going to assume by the ketchup on your shirt that they’ve had lunch and that now we’re doing play time. Do they take naps?”

“They have quiet time at three, and a lot of times all three of them crash.”

“Great!” A sleeping kid was a healthy kid. And it would give me time to clean up the train wreck that had exploded around his house. “And you’ll be home at?”

“Six.” He blinked his gorgeous eyes at me. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what else to say.”

“No problem.” I grinned. “Maybe change your shirt before heading out, though? We don’t want people thinking you murdered someone just because they see a flash of red ketchup.”

“Good point.” He laughed and peeled the shirt over his head with record finesse and speed.

I shivered, gaped, and then didn’t know if I was supposed to be outraged or turn away.

I turned away.

“Damn it. Sorry, it’s just been us, I wasn’t thinking, plus the laundry is on the couch—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I felt my face flame as visions of his six pack taunted my mind. “I’ll make sure to fold it when you’re gone.”

“Great.” In a flurry of movements, he had a black band shirt on and was calling upstairs. “Kids, I’m going to the studio, Penelope’s here to hang out with you. Don’t burn the house down and listen to her, all right?”

Silence.

“KIDS!”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Sure.”

“You hid the matches!”

Trevor gave me a panicked look.

“We’ll be fine.” Matches? Burning the house down? What kind of kids burned the house down at age five? Or even thought that attempting it would be a solid life choice? I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile, or even a non-reassuring one. “Promise!”

“You’re sure.” He eyed me like he wasn’t above chasing me out the door and pinning me to the ground just to make sure I’d stay.

“Yeah.” I waved him off. “Go before they catch the scent of freedom.”

He barked out a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

“Dad!”

I gave him a wide-eyed look while he nearly tripped over a Lego and made a run for it out the front door.

I felt three sets of eyes watching my back.

Slowly I turned and crossed my arms. “Who wants to make a fort?”

Every set of eyes lit up.

Hours later, while the kids all crashed in their rooms, I realized I’d grossly misjudged my ability to be a good nanny.

They wanted me to play with them the entire time, which I loved, but it also meant breaking up a fight every few minutes over stupid things like skin touching skin, being scared of a monster face that one of the twins kept doing, and my personal favorite.

The book.

That was all Bella said. The book was angry.

And then she said her doll laughed at her under her bed.

I was pretty sure that any sort of paranormal Annabelle activity wasn’t part of the job description, but Malcom finally fessed up to pretending to be her doll.

All in all, it was a busy day.

I’d cleaned the entire kitchen, tossed out old takeout, and noticed that the freezer had a perfectly good beef roast in it.

I defrosted it and added it to a pan with some carrots, potatoes, onions, and some spices. It wasn’t gourmet, but at least the kids would have a nice home-cooked meal, right along with Trevor.

I started in on the laundry at around a quarter till five, after checking on the kids again and finding they were still out.

There was enough laundry on that couch waiting to get folded I was shocked that everyone wasn’t roaming the house naked.

I winced. Bad visual.

You’re the nanny.

I picked up something black.

Black boxer briefs.

Not toddler size.

Big boy size.

Had anyone told me a few months ago that my fresh start would include folding Trevor Wood’s underwear, I would have checked them for a head injury.

And yet there I was, clutching his boxer briefs to my chest like a stalker fan gone too far.

I folded and folded and folded until I heard the sleepy talk coming from upstairs as each kid made their way down to the main living room. I already had apples and juice boxes out for everyone and a Blippi streaming via Amazon.

Everyone just huddled on the main couch with their snacks while I finished folding.

Malcom yawned and struggled with the straw to his juice box while Bella grabbed what looked like a black T-shirt and tried wrapping it around her legs. It wasn’t fitting right, so I walked over to help when Eric’s tiny hand shot out and shoved me away.