Halftime Husband (Sassy in the City 5)

“You can put your bag away whenever you want,” she said, following me and reaching up and getting a wineglass and putting it in front of me. “Here you go.”

I stopped in the process of opening the wine cabinet. Shit. I had expected her to yell at me about leaving the bag out because that’s what my ex-wife would have done. But Dakota was the nanny, not my… anything. Of course she would never reprimand me. I was paying her a salary.

Pulling out a bottle of merlot, I used the electric wine opener and then poured myself a glass. I was wrestling with whether it would be appropriate to offer her a glass or not. I wouldn’t have with any previous nanny. But I couldn’t pretend she was just any other nanny. “Do you want a glass?” I asked.

But she shook her head. “Dancing and drinking don’t mix.”

“They do if you’re me. And ninety percent of people out at clubs.” I took a sip of my wine.

“Dad, do you want a donut to make you feel better?” Poppy asked. She held the box up for me and opened it. “There are two left.”

“There were six originally. So who ate two? Fess up.”

Both Willow and Poppy said, “Dakota!”

She made a face. “Way to sell me out, guys. But yes, it was me and I feel zero regrets over it.”

I took one of the remaining two and bit it. “Great combo. Red wine and a glazed donut. Classy.”

“More like classic,” Dakota said. “What dessert would be better with red wine than a glazed donut?”

“Is this like what drink would sting the most when thrown in your face?” The way her mind worked was entertaining.

“Something like that. Like, for example, beer goes with apple pie.”

“Does it though?” I wasn’t sold on that combination. “I think bourbon goes with apple pie. You guys go back to your dance thing. I’m going to sit down on the couch and mentally berate myself for the next hour.”

“That sounds fun.” She winked at the girls. “Maybe we’ll get your dad to dance.”

“Yes!” Poppy was on board.

“Ew, no,” Willow said. “So embarrassing. It’s already embarrassing enough that he’s a coach.”

“How is that embarrassing?” I asked.

“Because this is you when you are mad.” Using mime, she pretended to throw off her headpiece and wave her arms around and yell at the ref. She stomped off.

“Every coach does that. I am not an exception.”

“Embarrassing.”

I sank down onto the couch with a sigh and put my feet up on the ottoman. “Sorry. You’re stuck with me.”

Dakota startled me by coming up behind me and resting her hands on my shoulders. She gave me a quick massage. “You may be embarrassing but we’re proud of you, Macnamara.”

The massage felt amazing because my shoulders were tense, but also because I enjoyed Dakota’s touch in any form. “Why have you suddenly started calling me by my last name?”

“All the announcers do.”

“You’re not an announcer.”

I closed my eyes briefly and enjoyed the shoulder rub. I tried not to think about what she was wearing or how close her tits were to my head.

Then she moved away and I sighed again. That had almost felt too good. Too real.

She pulled Poppy in front of the couch. “What do you want to learn now?”

“Twerking.”