Page 7

FOUR

GAGE

Keep it together, Donovan.

I pace the front sitting room, waiting for the Chinese food to be delivered, all while internally berating myself. You couldn’t pick one of the older women to be Zoe’s nanny. No, you had to choose the hottest fucking one possible. I’m a goddamn masochist, I swear to God.

The one Hail Mary I’m getting in all of this is the fact that I will be deployed more often than not. So it’s not like she’ll be a temptation.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

Apparently me. I’m living in a land of delusion.

Fifteen minutes later, the food is here and I haven’t heard a peep from upstairs. I take the stairs two at a time and once on the landing, I see her door is open and so is the nursery. I peek my head inside and Alejandra is at the changing table, cooing over Zoe, singing to her in Spanish.

As I watch Alejandra dote on my daughter with such tenderness, relief and guilt wash over me. It’s a relief because her genuine care for my daughter is clear to me, and I know Zoe will be in excellent hands when I’m not here. But the guilt lingers, reminding me of the attraction I feel towards her.

Gotta keep that shit on lockdown, Donovan. You can’t fuck the nanny.

I lean against the doorframe, silently observing the scene before me.

Alejandra’s voice fills the room, the soft melody of her Spanish lullaby wrapping around Zoe like a warm embrace.

I’m struck with an immense feeling of sadness.

My daughter deserves better. Better than a father that will be gone most of her life.

She deserves an actual mother, unlike the one who hid the fact she was pregnant and then just dipped out.

The warmth in Alejandra’s eyes as she gazes at Zoe is undeniable; it’s a tender light that speaks volumes. It’s not just physical attraction that draws me to her, it’s the kindness and her nurturing spirit that resonate with me on a deeper level.

I chose Alejandra precisely because I believed her beauty wouldn’t be a temptation.

My upcoming deployments would keep us apart most of the time, minimizing the risk.

Yet, the truth is, I’m kidding myself. This pull I feel toward her is intense, and distance alone may not be enough to extinguish the flame.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door, and her head shoots up. “Food’s here.”

“Okay, I can feed her and then put her down. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Zoe’s asleep in her swing after refusing to go down in her crib.

Leave it to my kid to ruin any alone time I get with anyone.

Alejandra sits across from a sea of takeout containers between us.

Her presence is intoxicating, the genuine care for Zoe radiating from her every gesture.

But I know I have to tread carefully, reminding myself of the boundaries I set in place.

With a forced nonchalance, I reach for a container of chow mein and begin to dish out the food, trying to distract myself from the magnetic pull I’m feeling. Alejandra, however, doesn’t seem to be affected by the same internal struggle. She leans forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“So, Mr. Donovan, tell me more about yourself,” she says, her voice soft yet filled with genuine interest.

I pause, unsure of how much I should reveal. But looking into her eyes, I see a flicker of vulnerability that mirrors my own. Perhaps it’s time to let someone in, even if only a little.

With a sigh, I put down my fork and meet her gaze.

“You can just call me Gage. You can drop the “Mr. Donovan.” You’ve already got the job.

” That makes her smile. Fuck, she’s pretty when she smiles.

“Well, I’m thirty and I enlisted in the Corps when I was eighteen.

I’ve been deployed countless times, and it doesn’t look like that will change anytime soon.

I’ve been with the 1st Battalion for five years now, and I found out three weeks ago that I have a daughter.

To get my affairs in order and bond with her, I was given family leave. And now, you’re here.”

Alejandra’s expression softens, her hand reaching out to touch mine briefly before she withdraws it. “That must be incredibly tough. Now I’ll be here to help you in whatever ways I can.”

Don’t look into that statement, Gage.

I nod, grateful for her understanding. “It is. But I made a promise to myself that I would be the best father I could be, no matter the circumstances. That’s why I chose you, Alejandra. I saw something in you that I knew would be invaluable for Zoe.”

She looks at me, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and compassion. “Gage, I want you to know that I care deeply for Zoe. She means the world to me, and I promise to take care of her like she’s my own daughter.”

Her words bring a sense of relief, easing some of the guilt that has been weighing me down. I realize that Alejandra’s presence in our lives may be the blessing I didn’t expect.

As we continue our meal, the conversation flows effortlessly, a mixture of lighthearted banter and sharing plans for the future. She’s an incredible woman who is doing her best to help her family out of a shitty situation and she is doing a huge solid for Zoe and me.

Two Weeks Later

The alarm goes off at 0400 sharp, cutting through the silence of my dark bedroom like a knife.

The first thing I feel is the pull of exhaustion—the weight of the past few days crashing down on me.

I don’t want to get up. Hell, I don’t want to do anything except pull the covers over my head and sleep for the next week. But I don’t have that luxury.

Not today.

Not ever.

Today is my first day back from leave. I roll out of bed, feet hitting the cool floor with a dull thud.

A decade as a Marine has taught me what comes next: the early morning shouts of PT, the physical exhaustion, and that familiar, relentless grind.

The exhaustion is a familiar companion now; I’ve learned to block out the bone-deep tiredness, the throbbing in my head. It’s what we do.

But now, there’s an additional layer to it all. A baby. A responsibility that I didn’t ask for but have to shoulder whether I’m ready or not.

I drag myself to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face, and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

You look like shit, Donovan.

It’s true. I’m not fooling anyone. I haven’t slept in days.

Every time I close my eyes, I see Zoe’s tiny face, the way she cried the first night, and the way her hands reached for me like I was supposed to have all the answers.

And every time I hold her, I feel the pressure of it—the weight of being a father, of not knowing how to do any of this.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I can’t afford to let this shit get to me. I’ve got a job to do, and that job doesn’t include feeling sorry for myself. It’s time to suit up and get the day started.

I throw on my PT gear, tight-fitting shorts, and a T-shirt, lacing up my running shoes with a practiced ease. I grab my jacket as an afterthought and head downstairs.

When I pass the living room, I freeze.

She’s already up and in the kitchen.

Alejandra.

I don’t know why it surprises me. She’s been here for two weeks now, and I should expect this—her dedication, her calm demeanor. I knew she was good with kids, but I never imagined she’d be this... reliable.

I glance into the kitchen, where she’s standing by the counter with Zoe in her arms. Alejandra holds my daughter, whose tiny head rests against her chest, and she hums a soft, soothing tune while looking down at her.

It’s a quiet moment, but it hits me harder than I expected.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this tired or this. .. unsure about my feelings.

A messy ponytail holds back her dark brown hair, escaping strands framing a face etched with exhaustion.

She took over Zoe’s nightly routine so I could get some sleep and go back to my usual schedule.

Her T-shirt’s rumpled and stained with traces of formula or maybe it’s spit up.

Alejandra’s devotion to Zoe astounds me.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

There you go again, Gage. Don’t do this to yourself.

It’s the way she holds herself, the way she cares for my daughter, that makes her so damn captivating.

She’s got this gentle strength about her, something that draws you in without even trying.

It doesn’t help that every time I look at her, I feel like I’m breaking my own rule about keeping distance between us.

You can’t fuck the nanny.

I can’t let myself get too close. She’s here to do a job, and I’m paying her for it. That’s all this is. That’s all it can be.

Right?

But even as I think it, my thoughts betray me.

I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way her body moves and the way she carries herself with quiet grace.

I’ve noticed the softness in her voice and the kindness in the way she looks at Zoe.

She’s different from anyone I’ve ever met.

She’s not like the women at the bars who wanna ride a Marine’s dick, then hope they get the call the next weekend for round two.

No, she’s different.

And the way she treats me, specifically.

Not just the love she shows my daughter, but the way she respects me.

Alejandra doesn’t walk on eggshells around me, but she keeps to herself, never letting her eyes linger too long.

I see it though. When she looks at me, taking me in.

Those fucking beautiful brown eyes make me want to drop to my knees and lay the world at her feet.

It’s dangerous.

She’s dangerous for me.

I run my hand over my face, pushing the thoughts away. I can’t afford to think like that. Years in this game have taught me that letting feelings cloud my judgment means I’m just setting myself up for a failed relationship, ruining the best thing my daughter has going for her.

I can’t do that.

No matter how much I want to touch her.

Taste her.

Feel her body underneath mine.