Caveman (Wild Men 1)

The softness leaves his gaze. “The mother won’t be fucking visiting.”

“Dad—” Mary starts, and Matt gets up, his expression furious.

Unsure of what happened, I get to my feet as well. “Why, was it—?”

“Enough.” He leaves the kids sitting there, on the sofa, and he strides over to door, grabbing his car keys from a hook on the wall. He opens the door, letting in the cool morning breeze.

I guess this is it, then. He’s off to work, and I’m babysitting his kids, and whatever crawled up his ass this time doesn’t matter.

“One last thing,” he says, stopping on the doorstep. “This dress you’re wearing.”

Self-conscious, I tug on the hem, the blue fabric stiff. “What about it?”

“Don’t wear it again. No more dresses.”

“What? Why not?”

What a dick!

He doesn’t wait to see if I’ll answer. If I say yes or no, or if I damn him to hell and leave.

No, he just slams the door behind him and is gone.

Great.

“Hey, baby,” Mom says, giving me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek when I enter the kitchen late in the afternoon. “How was your first day as a nanny?”

I shrug, although I’m bursting with things to say.

“Really? That bad?” She arches her brows, putting the lid back on the pot, the heavenly scent of her world-famous minestrone soup filling the room.

“No.” I decide to omit any mention of the very hot and very rude Matt Hansen and stick to a safer topic. “It was great. The kids are lovely, they’re the funniest little things. The boy’s barely three and he babbles a lot. It’s so cute. And the girl…”

“What about the girl?” Mom asks when I hesitate. “How old is she?”

“She’s five. She’s sweet, but…”

“Naughty?” Mom suggests.

“No. The opposite. Too quiet.”

Except for one time when she started to yell. I’m still not sure what exactly happened. They had been eating the spaghetti I’d prepared for them, and it was pretty good, if I say so myself.

She took one bite and she sort of snapped. Fell to the floor and wailed and screamed until I took her in my arms and rocked her, for a long time. Cole joined us, and we stayed like that for ages until Mary calmed down.

And when her father returned from work, I tried to talk to him about it, but he brushed me off, told me not to sweat it.

Told me to run on home.

What a jerk.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom is looking at me with concern, and I don’t want that. She has enough worries on her head without adding my rude employer to the mix.

Besides. It’s only day one. I should give him time. Maybe he’ll come around.

Or I’ll grow thicker skin. That would be good for me, and about time.

“What’s for dinner?” Merc bellows, entering the kitchen and dumping his ass in a chair, not