Page 20 of Nanny for Grumpy Grant (Shared by the Carter Brothers #1)

I squealed when I saw Marisa, the housekeeper who had worked for the Swansons when I lived here. Marisa had treated me like her own daughter. She used to cook my favorite meals and let me stay in the kitchen to watch her work while I shared my silly teenage troubles.

The kind woman was equally excited. "Is that you, Anna?"

"Yes, Marisa," I said and went to her for a hug, just like I used to.

She beamed as she looked me over. "Wow, look at you—a grown-up now, and such a beautiful young woman!"

"Thank you," I giggled. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I've been just fine," she said. "Still the same me, same life. Cooking three meals a day for the same family. The boys went to college and came back. Except Mr. Swanson is no more..." Her eyes reddened as she trailed off.

As I helped her set the table, I told her briefly about my life.

I was especially grateful for her genuine joy in seeing me, since I’d always feared the household staff might think I was a thief.

We had barely finished when high-pitched laughter echoed down the hallway.

"That's Miss Ruth," Marisa said, her expression unreadable. I remembered Ruth never got along with Marisa or the other household employees.

I forced a smile despite the sinking feeling in my stomach as a young woman entered the dining room.

She was shorter but stockier than me, her skin pale from avoiding the sun.

Ruth loathed sunlight, claiming it damaged the skin.

Despite the heavy makeup, I recognized her immediately—large brown eyes, pouty lips, and a now more mature body.

She also looked even haughtier than I remembered.

"Hi, Ruth," I greeted as she neared.

She looked passive for a second, then forced a smile and pulled me into a hug. "Little Anna! It's so good to see you!"

I cringed at the nickname. It had sounded affectionate coming from Mike Swanson, but from Ruth’s lips, it felt condescending. Ruth was three months younger than me, yet she’d been adopted a year earlier and always acted superior because of it.

After I left, she never contacted me—despite having my information.

I gave her a polite pat before pulling away. "Thank you. It’s good to see you too."

"Look at you," she said, giving me a once-over. "So thin. I wish I could give you some of my weight."

I was five-foot-five and weighed around 120 pounds—not thin, not heavy. I wasn’t sure if that was meant as a compliment. I just chuckled.

"Congratulations on getting married," I offered.

"Thank you!" she replied brightly. "What about you? Any boyfriend, partner, or husband?"

"No," I shook my head. "Not as lucky as you. Where’s your fiancé?"

"Oh, he’s talking to Helen, I think."

Right on cue, we heard Helen’s voice—followed by a man’s.

"Rob!" Ruth called down the hallway. "Come meet Anna!"

A medium-built blond in his early thirties appeared. His light brown eyes sparkled, and the top button of his dress shirt was undone. His short hair was slicked back.

Rob took my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Anna," giving it a squeeze. "Ruth didn’t tell me her adopted sister would be so beautiful."

I blushed. Shit. That was inappropriate. Was he flirting in front of his fiancée?

"Nice to meet you, too," I said quickly and pulled my hand away.

"Where are the guys?" Ruth asked, oblivious.

"They're in the living room," Helen replied. "Let me go get them."

"Is Heidi coming too?" Rob asked casually.

"Who? I don’t think so," Ruth said, her lips tightening slightly.

The name caught my attention. "Is she the surf instructor? I saw her earlier at the beach."

"Yes. She’s Tyler’s girlfriend," Rob said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh," I replied with a smile. I shouldn’t have been surprised—but I was. Tyler hadn’t acted like he had a girlfriend.

"She’s not his girlfriend," Ruth corrected sharply. "She works with him. Maybe a surf partner, that’s all."

Oddly, that made me feel better.

"How do you know they didn’t do anything else?" Rob scoffed. "I bet you a hundred bucks they’re more than that."

Ruth shrugged. "Maybe. But that doesn’t make her his girlfriend. Tyler never dates seriously."

My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"I am. Neither does Landon. Helen even thought they might be gay—but sometimes they bring home girls. Nothing long-term."

"Oh," I said, shrugging. Not surprising. With their looks, they must’ve had plenty of attention. Maybe that’s why commitment never came easily to them.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Helen’s voice followed. "Here we are. Let’s get started with dinner."

I looked up—and lost my words.

If the brothers were breathtaking alone, they were jaw-dropping together. My eyes darted between their handsome faces, my heart fluttering.

Their gazes locked with mine—Landon’s light gray and Tyler’s bright blue.

Two Greek gods stood side by side.

Both were tall and muscular. Landon’s neatly trimmed anchor beard gave him the serious air of a CEO. Tyler’s ink-dark stubble made him look wild and sexy.

Despite their different coloring, their features were similar. It was easy to tell they were brothers—and just as easy to see their differences. Landon was more reserved. Tyler more playful.

Helen and Mike had married late. Helen was forty and Mike in his fifties when they had the twins. Giving birth nearly killed her. But she adored children and convinced Mike to adopt Ruth first—then me.

"I like your shirt, Tyler. When did you get it?" Ruth’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I looked at his navy-blue shirt patterned with surfboards.

"I don’t remember," Tyler said with a shrug. "Found it in my closet. I guess Mom bought it for me."

"Ha! Got you!" Ruth rolled her eyes. "I bought it for your birthday two years ago!"

Tyler blinked, then grinned. "Got you too! I knew that. Just messing with you."

"No, you didn’t!"

Helen laughed. "Okay, kids. Enough bantering. Let’s start dinner. I’m sure Anna’s hungry."

Everyone turned to me, and I blushed. "I’m fine, really," I said quickly—though my stomach disagreed. Marisa’s delicious cooking wasn’t helping my self-control.

We sat at the table. Ruth took the seat between Rob and Helen; I ended up between the twins.

The arrangement brought back memories. The twins always sat beside me when we were kids. Ruth had always taken the seat between our foster parents.

"Try the mushroom ravioli in cream sauce," Helen urged. "It was your favorite when you were little."

"Thanks, I will," I said. "I’ve missed it."

"I reminded Mom," Tyler added smugly. "You should thank me."

I chuckled. "Thank you, Tyler."

I reached for the plate. "I’ll get it," Tyler said, putting down his fork—only to be cut off by Landon.

"Got it," Landon said, taking my plate and eagerly serving me.

"Thanks," I said. Their attention made me feel undeserving.

Tyler’s smile stiffened slightly, while Landon smirked triumphantly.

Are they still fighting like they used to? I remembered them competing over everything—even surfing.

Helen remained composed. If she noticed the tension, she didn’t let it show. "You’ve got to have more, Anna," she said warmly. "Marisa made enough to feed an army."

"I’ll do my best," I replied—then noticed Ruth’s subtle eye roll.

When she saw me watching, she smiled and took a sip of wine.

"Right, your favorite food," she said. "I remember the first time you had it. You ate three servings and threw up that night."

Really, Ruth? That was during my first month in the Swanson home. I’d just left foster care and had never tasted homemade ravioli before. I overate. I was embarrassed—but chuckled.

Helen, ever graceful, came to my rescue. "I don’t recall that. Must’ve been the only time Anna overindulged."

"Me neither," Tyler agreed quickly, glancing at me. "She usually ate like a bird—unlike someone."

Ruth gasped. "What do you mean, Ty?"

"Just saying you had a healthy appetite," he said deadpan.

We all laughed. It was what Mr. Swanson always said when Ruth devoured her food.

Dinner passed pleasantly. I helped myself to more ravioli and crème br?lée for dessert—another favorite I was thankful they remembered.

After dinner, we moved to the living room for wine. Rob and Landon discussed business. Helen and Ruth chatted about wedding plans.

Ruth showed me photos of her unfinished gown. It was extravagant—lace, sparkles, and an off-the-shoulder neckline that flattered her. She looked stunning, and I meant my compliments sincerely.

Still, she frowned. "What do you think of the veil?"

I looked closely. "It looks fine to me."

"I think it’s too long. Is it too late to change it?" she asked Helen.

"We can ask," Helen said. "But you need to decide soon."

"I know. Sorry, Mom," Ruth giggled, hugging her. "But I only marry once."

She kept debating, and I plastered on a polite smile—until I felt a hand on my arm.

"If you don’t feel like tagging along for the wedding dress fitting," Tyler murmured, "you’re welcome to surf with me tomorrow."

My eyes lit up. "I’d love to, but I don’t know how."

"I’ll teach you," he said with a grin. "It’s not hard."

Maybe for him. He was a pro. Still, I nodded. "Sure. That sounds great."

He must’ve seen something on my face, because his eyes darkened. "You’ve got a bathing suit, right?"

Shit. Why did that question make me blush? "Yeah. I brought one, just in case."

His gaze lingered on me, lingering just a second too long. I looked away.

But then I saw Landon, watching us from across the room—jaw clenched, expression unreadable.

What happened to them? They were civil—but the tension between them was unmistakable.

Before I could think more, Ruth’s voice rang out.

"Hey, I deserve a promotion—not because I’m your fiancée, but because of my degree and experience. I didn’t work my butt off at Stanford just to take orders from someone who went to UCLA..."

Rob raised a brow. "UCLA’s business school outranks Stanford’s. You can’t discredit it just because it’s public."

Unfortunately, I nodded—and Rob seized the moment.

"So, what school did you go to, Anna?"

"Um, CCC. Canyon Community College," I said quietly. "But I have a degree in landscape architecture. I’m a landscaper now."

Rob and Ruth didn’t look impressed. But Helen smiled. "It suits you. You always loved my garden."

"I did," I said. "It inspired me."

"So, what’s the difference between a landscaper and a gardener?" Ruth asked.

I resisted rolling my eyes. "We do more design work."

"You know," Landon interjected, "I’ve been thinking—you could take on a project for us during your visit."

I turned to him. "I’d love to. What do you need?"

"The new house has a great ocean view—but no garden."

"I’d love to take a look," I said. "I can design something, but I’d need someone else for the construction."

"That’s fine," he said. "I’ll show you tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow," Tyler cut in. "She has surfing lessons."

Surfing lessons? I blinked. Was he serious?

Tension hung in the air. I rushed to intervene. "I can do both—visit the house in the morning, surf in the afternoon."

They exchanged a look, then nodded. "That’ll work."

Before I could celebrate my diplomatic success, Ruth piped up. "You’re not coming shopping? We need a bridesmaid dress."

"I didn’t know I was a bridesmaid."

"One dropped out," Helen said gently. "Ruth wanted to ask you. No pressure."

Ruth explained the imbalance—six groomsmen, five bridesmaids. "Mom will pay for the dress," she added.

I hesitated. I hadn’t seen Ruth in ten years. I’d never even been a bridesmaid. But Helen had opened her home to me. And the bachelorette party was already over.

"Sure, I can do that," I said. "I just have to stand in a dress, right?"

"And dance," Ruth added. "Can you do that?"

"Definitely," I said. I actually enjoyed dancing—and took classes for college PE.

In the end, the plan was set: I’d visit the new house in the morning, go shopping with Helen and Ruth, and surf with Tyler in the afternoon.