Make Me Yours(13)

“Use your fork, Lillian.” Just as fast, she’s back on me. “You cannot hire that girl to live in this house.”

“I can do whatever I want.” My voice is level. “It’s my house.”

Eleanor’s voice goes low. “I saw the way you spoke to her at church. You have chemistry with that girl. It’s a bad idea.”

“If I thought it was a bad idea, I wouldn’t have given her a contract and asked her to start this evening.”

Lillie looks up from her plate, where she’s putting mac and cheese on her fork with her fingers. “What’s chemistry, Daddy?”

Her question makes me grin. “Remember Bill Nye the science guy?”

She nods quickly, that cute little dimple appearing in her cheek when she smiles. I wasn’t sure I could love someone this much until she was born. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.

“Well,” I continue. “He does chemistry.”

Her little eyes widen. “He makes things go boom! Will you make Ruby go boom?”

I cough a laugh, shifting in my seat and imagining how that might go… and how it might sound. “It’s different with people, honey.”

Of course, Eleanor’s face is a disapproving, I told you so. “Lillian, take your hands out of your food.” She wipes my daughter’s hand again. “What are her qualifications?”

Sitting back, I cross my arms over my chest. “She has a master’s degree, and she’s a licensed therapist.”

“Therapists are all crazy. It’s why they do what they do.”

“She is not crazy.” A little nutty, maybe, but not crazy.

“We don’t need her.”

“We do.” I fight to keep the edge out of my tone. “Friday night was the perfect example.”

“I was right Friday night.”

Anger rises in my stomach, but I fight it down. I won’t let her bait me.

Instead, I take a different approach. “You’re her grandmother, Eleanor. You should be spoiling her, not worrying about following my rules.”

She sits back, daring to act offended. “I guess you think I was a horrible mother.”

“I do not think you were a horrible mother. I think we need boundaries, and you need a break. You’ve been taking care of Lillie for four years now.”

“So it’s not about me?” Eleanor huffs, straightening her blouse.

I don’t respond to the snark in her tone. I don’t say it’s very much about her, and that I wouldn’t have been in that bar last night if it wasn’t for her.

“It’s about making things easier for all of us.”

“I just hope you remember those boundaries when that girl is in this house.”

“I’d rather not discuss that here.” I tilt my head toward Lillie, who’s studying her plate, but who I know is not deaf. “My goal is to have more time to focus on my work. I need to get more accomplished if I’m going to grow the business. It’s what I hope Ruby allows me to do.”

Lillie’s head snaps up. “I like Ruby. She talks to me. She shook my hand and said I was polite.”

My smile to Eleanor is conclusive. “That is what matters most to me.”



I pace the large foyer of my house as I wait for Ruby to arrive.

She texted me earlier saying the contract was agreeable, she would sign it, and arrive here with her things at seven. It’s seven, and I can’t sit down. I have to move.

I’ve prepared the room down the hall from Lillie. They’re on the third floor of the house. My suite and offices are spread out on the second. Eleanor’s master suite is on the first.

As I walk back and forth in the large entrance, I realize this house probably is considered a McMansion. The grand staircase curves up to the second-floor landing, which has a balcony overlooking the downstairs.

Doors close it off from my quarters, and the stairs continue up to the third floor. When she was a baby, we had Lillie’s bedroom and playroom on the first floor near Eleanor’s. As she got older, she wanted to move to the top floor. She went through a Tangled phase, and I guess it made her feel like a princess in a tower. Naturally, we have monitors in her rooms.

Her playroom is still on the first floor, however, and I hear her little voice talking to her dolls. She won’t be awake much longer. My hands are shoved in the pockets of my jeans, and the tail of my button-up shirt is untucked.

I didn’t want to appear too formal when she arrived or make her feel uncomfortable. Honestly, the only thing I know about nannies is from what I saw as a kid in The Sound of Music, which my mother made me watch one day when I was sick, and which I mostly slept through.

Still, I remember whistles blowing, kids marching like soldiers, and running from the Nazis.

I’m pretty confident none of that will happen in my house, so I have no basis for what to expect.

A knock sounds at the door, and my boat shoes squeak on the marble as I rush to open it. Ruby’s hair swirls around her shoulders when I do. Her brown eyes widen, moving up and down my body quickly. God, she’s so gorgeous.

“Hi.” I manage to say.

The air hums and crackles between us. I wonder if she feels it, too. Then her cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink, and I know she does.

Jesus. I want to fuck the nanny. Don’t get a boner. I cannot adjust my fly right now.