The Lumberjack's Nanny: A Forbidden Romance (Rockford Falls 3)

“My number one job is keeping you safe, baby girl. And sometimes that means telling you no.”

“Like Snapchat,” she said.

“Yes,” I said with a sigh, wishing she’d let that go already. “Bath time, you cherry cheesecake mess.” She made a show of licking her lips to get the mess off her face, but the cheesecake smear was on her forehead.

I got up to start her water, and Rachel took dishes to the sink.

“I’ll do those,” I said, “after you leave. I’d appreciate if you’d hang around until she’s in bed so we can finalize terms of your employment.”

“So did I pass the audition?” she asked wryly.

“I thought I was the one who successfully had the right whipped cream,” I said.

“You don’t want the wrong whipped cream. Trust me. The oil-based kind, ugh,” she shook her head. “Plus, it’ll stain the sheets.” She grinned, then flushed pink, “Shit. I’m so sorry. I forgot who I was talking to. Won’t happen again, ugh. And I won’t say shit around Sadie either. Just—” she broke off.

Her flustered moment that let me peek beneath that confidence. It was adorable. Almost cute enough to make me ignore the hot rush of blood that set my body aflame at her offhand joke. I clenched my fists. This was getting out of hand.

“You can have a seat in the living room while I get Sadie ready for bed,” I said coolly.

I gave Sadie the quickest bath in the world, read her one story and kissed her good night. I crossed my fingers that she’d stay in bed and not demand more stories and songs like she was used to having. When I went to the living room, Rachel wasn’t there. I glanced at the door and saw her shoes were still there, so she hadn’t left. I heard the faucet in the kitchen and went in to see what she was doing. She’d done the dishes and cleared off the counters and wiped them down.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“I know, you have people to do that,” she said wryly. “But I thought I could help out instead of sitting around. So, am I fired for the inappropriate comment earlier?”

“No. Consider yourself on probation.”

“What does that mean exactly?” she asked.

“It means that I think this will work out fine, as long as you—”

“Watch my mouth?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Weigh your words carefully.”

“Got it,” she said.

I offered her a beer and she shook her head, “I’m on my best behavior, remember?” she said, and I got the idea she was teasing me. There was amusement in her eyes, and she didn’t sound snarky about it.

I sat on the couch and she sat, thankfully, at the opposite end of it.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” I said wearily.

“You did. But you’re interviewing me for a job, so that goes with the territory, I guess.”

“I won’t be—underfoot—while you’re working. The fact is, if I could be at home during those hours I wouldn’t need a nanny for her. I’ll leave any special instructions for the day on the dry erase board by the fridge. If you want anything added to the grocery list for the week, leave a note. If there’s a problem, you can text me. Otherwise, I don’t expect to have to—”

“Deal with me? I get it,” she said with a half-smile. “I get the impression you don’t like me. Which is fine, I guess. As long as you trust me to take care of Sadie.”

“It isn’t that I don’t like you. I don’t feel one way or the other in that respect, which is appropriate. You’ll be an employee, temporarily.”

“Denise is like family, I understand. I’m not trying to replace her. I’m going to spend time with Sadie and make sure she has a great summer. And I’ll stay out of your way. Do you want pictures and videos and stuff sent to you or not? Because she’s a cute kid, and I’m gonna take pics.”

“You can’t post them on social media,” I said quickly.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t have without permission anyway, but that was quick.”

“I’m overprotective. I admit it.”

“That’s fine. It’s your kid, your decision.”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“I get it.”

“I do want pictures of her, videos especially from her swim lessons so I can see how she’s doing. I love getting pictures of her.”

“Good. And I won’t bother you with a bunch. Just a few.”

“No, it’s fine. I’d like to get them.”

“So you won’t get mad if I blow up your phone with a dozen pics of her jumping in the pool?”

“No, I won’t get mad. I’m not actually—harsh, ordinarily.”

“So, I bring out the best in you?” she asked archly. I tried to smile but I was uncomfortable.

“Maybe I’m just out of my element with the situation. I haven’t had to look for childcare in years, and I was comfortable with the arrangement we had with Denise. Now I have to train you and get used to the way you do things.”