Page 33 of Nanny for the Bodyguard

I move closer on instinct, taking the wooden spoon and setting it down on the counter behind Hazel. I don’t care about the mess it’s making lying there.

All I care about is getting closer to her.

My hand wraps around Hazel’s side, and that little giggle changes to a breathy gasp. It’s even better than the laugh.

She’s so soft against my palm, the heat of her skin meeting my own from beneath the thin material of her tank top. My head dips down toward hers, everything still moving on its own accord like I’m not the pilot anymore.

The nagging voice in the back of my head pipes up, though, and I swallow hard as I focus on Hazel’s lips.

Want. Want this. No, Easton. No. This is…there’s too much…too much between us.

Even my apprehension is choppy, battling against the waves of arousal I feel just being near this incredible woman.

How can she do this to me?

I’m right there, my lips hovering over Hazel’s, and she still hasn’t pulled back from me. In fact, her small fingers are entwining themselves in the fabric of my shirt, fiddling with the buttons.

But we can’t do this. We’re over. We’re done. I’m not looking for a relationship—ever.

And I won’t hurt her again. I can’t do that. I could never.

Why is this so hard?

“Easton?” The breathy question escapes Hazel’s lips, sounding so nervous, so torn.

I’m still craned over her, but the words start to tumble from my lips.

“Hazel, I…this is…I’m not sure if?—”

The sliding door creaks, and I yank myself away from her, flying clear across the kitchen in a matter of seconds so that Jade doesn’t see what was just happening.

“Hey, when’s dinner going to be ready? I’m starving.” Jade smiles up at Hazel, utterly unaware.

“It should be ready in just a few minutes. Let me get everything plated up, and we can eat at the table.”

Jade smiles, nodding as she kicks off her shoes and heads toward the dining room. “You okay, Uncle Easton?”

I clear my throat, raising my brows and trying not to look like I’m fighting back an agonizing boner.

“Yup, just gonna wash my hands. I’ll be right there.”

Turning my back on the room, I head straight to the powder room on the ground floor. I need to splash some cold water on my face—or maybe just down my pants at this point.

I have an entire dinner ahead of me with Hazel right fucking there.

I’m not going to make it.

ELEVEN

Hazel

Weekends are me-time, and I need to work on my manuscript.This thriller ain’t gonna write itself, Hazel!

But sitting in the house has done nothing for my productivity. I’m distracted and on edge, thinking of everything that’s been going on with Easton, including another almost kiss, for fuck’s sake, and I need a change in scenery.

“The coffee shop is just across the street. Just go and get out of your head.” I stand up, shutting my laptop and unplugging it from the charger. “Not wanting people to see you staring at a blank screen might actually force you to work.”

Hopefully.