Page 34
Story: Filthy Rich Single Daddies
And then, of course, there’s Theo.
I bite my lip, my heart racing as I think of the way he’s been slipping into the carriage house every night this week. The way he lounges on my couch like he belongs there, all easy charm and effortless confidence. His smirk is maddening, his touch electric. He’s a distraction I can’t seem to resist, no matter how much I tell myself I need to keep my distance.
It’s just physical. It has to be.
I can’t afford to let my guard down, not with any of them. This arrangement—thisthing—can’t be anything more than stolen moments and tangled sheets. I’ve learned the hard way what happens when you let people in.
Austin, Cohen, Theo—they’re all dangerous in their own way, each one capable of unraveling the careful threads of my resolve.
But no matter how much I want to believe I can keep my feelings out of it, the lines are starting to blur.
And that terrifies me.
The shrieks of laughter pull me from my reverie. I blink, focusing on the present scene before me. Lucas and Elodie are darting through the sprinklers, their small bodies glistening withwater droplets in the afternoon sun. From my perch in the pool, I can't help but smile at their unbridled joy.
"Time for a lemonade break, kiddos!" Birdie calls out, her silvery hair catching the light as she waves them over.
I watch as the children scamper towards her, their excited chatter filling the air. Lucas, ever the cautious one, approaches slowly, while Elodie practically bounces with each step.
"This is the best lemonade ever, Miss Birdie!" Elodie exclaims, her blue eyes wide with delight.
Birdie chuckles, a warm, rich sound. "Well, thank you, sweetheart. It's my secret recipe."
As I float on my back, letting the cool water soothe my sun-warmed skin, I hear Elodie's sudden gasp of excitement.
"Look! A butterfly!" she cries out, her voice filled with wonder.
I turn my head, curiosity piqued. Sure enough, a delicate monarch butterfly is fluttering past, its orange and black wings a stark contrast against the clear blue sky.
"Oh, isn't that lovely?" Birdie says, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "You know, I planted special flowers in my garden just to attract those beautiful creatures."
"Really?" Lucas asks, his usual shyness giving way to genuine interest.
I smile to myself, impressed once again by Birdie's ability to captivate the children. As she launches into an animated explanation about her butterfly-friendly garden, I can't help but feel a twinge of envy. How nice it must be to find such joy in simple things, to be unburdened by complicated feelings and tangled relationships.
But then again, I muse as I lazily paddle through the water, perhaps it's not too late for me to learn.
"Can we go see?" Elodie asks, her voice brimming with excitement. "Please, Miss Birdie?"
Lucas chimes in, "Yeah, can we?"
I hear Birdie's gentle laugh. "Well, that depends on your nanny. Skylar, dear, would you mind if I showed the children my butterfly garden?"
I lift my head from the water, pushing my wet hair back. Part of me wants to keep the kids close, to maintain the careful routine I've established. But their eager faces make my resolve waver.
"That's a great idea," I say, treading water. "But remember, your dads will be home soon. Don't be gone too long, okay?"
"We won't!" the kids chorus in unison.
As Birdie leads them through the yard toward the gate, I call out, "And no touching anything without permission!"
"Yes, Skylar," they reply, their voices already fading as they disappear into Birdie's yard.
I watch them go, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. It's been a week of this nannying gig, and I've already grown more attached to these kids than I'd like to admit. I sink back into the pool, relishing the sudden quiet.
The water envelops me, cool and soothing. For a moment, I let myself float, eyes closed, enjoying this rare moment of peace. No kids to watch, no complicated men to avoid. Just me and the gentle lapping of the water against the pool's edge.
I take a deep breath, savoring the tranquility. But even as I relax, I can't quite shake the nagging thought that this peace is temporary. Soon, the kids will be back. Soon, their fathers will return. And with them, all the complications I've been trying to ignore.
I bite my lip, my heart racing as I think of the way he’s been slipping into the carriage house every night this week. The way he lounges on my couch like he belongs there, all easy charm and effortless confidence. His smirk is maddening, his touch electric. He’s a distraction I can’t seem to resist, no matter how much I tell myself I need to keep my distance.
It’s just physical. It has to be.
I can’t afford to let my guard down, not with any of them. This arrangement—thisthing—can’t be anything more than stolen moments and tangled sheets. I’ve learned the hard way what happens when you let people in.
Austin, Cohen, Theo—they’re all dangerous in their own way, each one capable of unraveling the careful threads of my resolve.
But no matter how much I want to believe I can keep my feelings out of it, the lines are starting to blur.
And that terrifies me.
The shrieks of laughter pull me from my reverie. I blink, focusing on the present scene before me. Lucas and Elodie are darting through the sprinklers, their small bodies glistening withwater droplets in the afternoon sun. From my perch in the pool, I can't help but smile at their unbridled joy.
"Time for a lemonade break, kiddos!" Birdie calls out, her silvery hair catching the light as she waves them over.
I watch as the children scamper towards her, their excited chatter filling the air. Lucas, ever the cautious one, approaches slowly, while Elodie practically bounces with each step.
"This is the best lemonade ever, Miss Birdie!" Elodie exclaims, her blue eyes wide with delight.
Birdie chuckles, a warm, rich sound. "Well, thank you, sweetheart. It's my secret recipe."
As I float on my back, letting the cool water soothe my sun-warmed skin, I hear Elodie's sudden gasp of excitement.
"Look! A butterfly!" she cries out, her voice filled with wonder.
I turn my head, curiosity piqued. Sure enough, a delicate monarch butterfly is fluttering past, its orange and black wings a stark contrast against the clear blue sky.
"Oh, isn't that lovely?" Birdie says, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "You know, I planted special flowers in my garden just to attract those beautiful creatures."
"Really?" Lucas asks, his usual shyness giving way to genuine interest.
I smile to myself, impressed once again by Birdie's ability to captivate the children. As she launches into an animated explanation about her butterfly-friendly garden, I can't help but feel a twinge of envy. How nice it must be to find such joy in simple things, to be unburdened by complicated feelings and tangled relationships.
But then again, I muse as I lazily paddle through the water, perhaps it's not too late for me to learn.
"Can we go see?" Elodie asks, her voice brimming with excitement. "Please, Miss Birdie?"
Lucas chimes in, "Yeah, can we?"
I hear Birdie's gentle laugh. "Well, that depends on your nanny. Skylar, dear, would you mind if I showed the children my butterfly garden?"
I lift my head from the water, pushing my wet hair back. Part of me wants to keep the kids close, to maintain the careful routine I've established. But their eager faces make my resolve waver.
"That's a great idea," I say, treading water. "But remember, your dads will be home soon. Don't be gone too long, okay?"
"We won't!" the kids chorus in unison.
As Birdie leads them through the yard toward the gate, I call out, "And no touching anything without permission!"
"Yes, Skylar," they reply, their voices already fading as they disappear into Birdie's yard.
I watch them go, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. It's been a week of this nannying gig, and I've already grown more attached to these kids than I'd like to admit. I sink back into the pool, relishing the sudden quiet.
The water envelops me, cool and soothing. For a moment, I let myself float, eyes closed, enjoying this rare moment of peace. No kids to watch, no complicated men to avoid. Just me and the gentle lapping of the water against the pool's edge.
I take a deep breath, savoring the tranquility. But even as I relax, I can't quite shake the nagging thought that this peace is temporary. Soon, the kids will be back. Soon, their fathers will return. And with them, all the complications I've been trying to ignore.
Table of Contents
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