Page 7

He sighs and runs his fingers through his dark hair.

I glance away from his arm muscles as my stomach and core clench.

Maybe this was a mistake. A horrible mistake.

Why couldn’t he just be a bored, mean housewife?

“I told my lawyer to deal with it today at lunch. He said he would get it taken care of. I told him to just pay for the severance of your contract or whatever with them, no skin off my back.” He taps his hands on the counter and grunts.

“Oh, and if you’ll be doing the cleaning, and cooking all of our meals, I’ll amend the contract to add in as much as I would pay a housekeeper at least, since the nanny contract does entail making meals for the girls when you’re on the clock. ”

I shake my head. “I don’t need more than I’m already going to be making. Seriously. It’s more than enough. All I have to worry about are my student loans, credit card bill, my phone, and car. And gas… Seriously, it’s fine.”

He rolls his eyes and glances over to the stove to check the time.

“You can’t stop me from paying you more.

You’ve saved my ass, even if I still think you’re too young and maybe over-qualified now that I know better.

” He smirks and saunters to the hall towards the bedrooms. “Good night, Lillian.” I watch him walk away and I sigh as I lean against the island.

I know better than to lust after another boss. Especially while living with him and helping him with his kids. He just got out of a toxic marriage, I just ended a long relationship, plus he’s older than me. I mean, so was Bradley, but still.

I’m not sure how much older, but I imagine he’s at least in his early thirties since Avery is ten.

I haven’t worked up the courage to look up any information on him, because really, how much is really accurate online? Plus I see enough of his ex-wife in the photos on the walls, I don’t need to see what she looks like online to know I’m definitely not Morgan’s type.

She’s stunning.

With a long, lithe body, massive breasts, long blonde hair, and her gorgeous, bright blue eyes with a smile born to seduce.

I know I’m at least decent-looking. But I also look like a damn hot mess eight days a week.

I can’t tame my dark curls, I have curves and thick hips.

I know better than to compare myself to Morgan’s ex-wife, but come on.

He was with her for eleven years, they lived together, procreated, and probably had incredible, dirty sex.

I have never had fun, dirty sex. Bradley wasn’t my first, but even the two ‘men’ before him were nothing to truly remember or have wet dreams about.

I grumble to myself as I shuffle down the hall to my bedroom, softly closing the door before turning off the lights and jumping into bed.

It feels like it’s been the longest day of my life. Waking up to another boring, mundane day of job searching, to somehow living in a mansion, sleeping on the softest bed ever created, in a house with one of the sexiest men alive. And… taking care of his sweet girls.

I just hope that I do well enough for him not to fire me when he finds someone more perfectly qualified for his daughters.

I can put my lust for the man aside. It’s pertinent.

It’s not only inappropriate, but neither of us are even remotely close to being ready for anything romantic.

Men disgust me and he was just in a long ass marriage.

He’s putting his children first and I’ve already made the mistake of sleeping with a boss.

I can’t do that again. I need the stability, not just the money, but I need to find my footing again.

It would also be incredibly unfair to the girls.

They deserve to be safe and happy in their home, not watch a new woman lust over their dad.

I have no idea what life was like for them when their mother was here, but from what Morgan told me tonight, it must have been so sad. Being raised by the staff while their mother goes off and does goodness knows what.

So, here’s to a new day. I hope to get to know the girls better, set up a routine, and get back to doing what I love - teaching and nurturing children.

I don’t know if I’ll ever step foot in a classroom again, but I can still use my skills in homeschooling both Nessa and Tilly a bit, and help Avery with her homework once she goes back to school.

I got this.

_______________

I wake up with the sun the next morning, checking my phone for the time. It’s barely six in the morning. I have no idea what time the girls wake up, so I head straight to the bathroom to take care of my business, glaring at my wonky outfit I threw on last night. I really need to do laundry today.

I’m wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a stained gray t-shirt, no bra, and my hair looks like a literal bird’s nest.

I blow out a slow breath as I brush my teeth and just put my hair up into a messy bun. That’ll have to do.

I quietly step through the hall and head straight to the kitchen, finding Morgan already dressed, freshly showered, and sipping from a white cup of coffee as he scrolls through his phone. His dark hair is wet, pushed back with his fingers, and he just looks incredible.

I wish I could look like that without even trying.

I glance away from him and pull down a cup from the cupboard and pour some bean water before taking a sip.

He grunts and sends me a frown. “No cream or sugar? We do have those.”

I nod and blow over the top of the hot, steamy liquid and gulp down another mouthful.

“Yes, I found everything yesterday, actually. I just got used to drinking black coffee in college. Couldn’t afford any fancy creamer or sugar.

” I wink and head to the fridge, pulling everything out for a simple breakfast casserole for when the girls get up.

I think I’ll finely chop up some vegetables to add to it so that they can’t see it.

I didn’t see a food processor anywhere so maybe I need to order one of those.

It makes sneaking in foods a lot easier.

“Makes… sense. College must have been expensive. Did you have any help?”

I blink at him, wondering why he’s asking. Didn’t he go to college? He has to know the pricing.

I also hate talking about my family life, my past. It’s dark, depressing, and I have been through years of therapy and different medications to control my nightmares.

Then figuring out everything with my hormones, my uterus and reproductive system turned against me.

I have the shit end of all the sticks, honestly.

It’s been a rough twenty-seven years and I don’t want his pity.

I sigh and check his face for anything sinister. Anything untoward, and he is just open and kind, this poor man has also been through the ringer, hasn’t he?

“Just scholarships and grants for my academics. I didn’t go to a fancy Ivy League or anything, but it was a decent school.

I also did work-study shifts in the library and in the administration offices, the testing centers…

anything to help lessen the student loans that were piling up. But other than that, no help.”

He nods and stands from the stool, stepping around me to pour another cup of coffee. He pours in a pound of sugar and cream. I snort and shake my head as I watch him sip it as if it wasn’t loaded with sugar. How is he not grimacing?

“So you won’t eat fast food, but you’ll chug four million grams of sugar in the morning?”

He purses his lips and makes a show of gulping his coffee down.

“It’s delicious.” He clears his throat, setting the mug down on the island and staring straight into my eyes.

“I’ve always had an easy life. My parents pushed me into hockey before I could walk.

They paid for private lessons, coaching, and putting me on the best teams. I missed so much school that I almost didn’t graduate high school, and with my shitty GPA it was hard for colleges to want to accept me, even with my stats on the ice.

Of course, one phone call from my parents, donating enough money to rebuild and feed an entire country, of course I was accepted into their college of choice.

“It took until my senior year for teams to show me any notice. I did a lot of traveling, fucking around, and finally I chose the Mavericks’ offer out of a handful of other pro team offers, because it was far enough away from New York.

But, unfortunately, not too far for them to know my plans to separate from them a bit.

“I love my family, but they care more about status and money than true happiness. They visit every Christmas and send gifts for birthdays, even call once a month. It’s better than nothing, but sometimes I wish that they hugged me and told me they were proud of me.”

I nod and blink back the tears. “At least you have them in your life. I promise that I’m not trying to be dramatic or rude about it.

They wanted the best for you and did so the best way they knew how.

As long as they don’t try anything crazy with the girls, right?

I hope that you can mend your relationship with them.

” I send him a watery smile and focus on greasing a casserole dish.

I place down some bread on the bottom of the dish, pouring the egg and water mixture over it, topping it off with diced mushrooms, broccoli, and tomato…

then I add a bunch of cheese on top. Easy, simple, and healthy. Plus it’s going to taste delicious.

I cover it up with foil and place it in the oven, thankfully I remembered to pre-heat it and then set a timer.

He sighs and grabs a bottle of water, glancing down at his watch before grimacing at me. “Usually the girls are up by now, hopefully tonight is easier. I’ll call around lunch to talk to them, is that okay?”