Page 40 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy

“Maybe I am.”

“Talk to me, what’s going on?”

I debate telling her, then recall that this is my best friend. We don’t keep secrets from each other, and she might be able to pull me back to earth from fantasy land.

“I think I might have fallen for Jace,” I blurt out.

“Sorry, I missed that last part. Say it slower this time.”

I sigh, gazing up at the sky. “I’m falling in love with him, Si.”

Silence follows from her end, and I almost think I’ve lost her until she chimes in a moment later. “No.”

“Yes.”

“The D.C. cowboy?”

“Yes.”

“The CEO?”

“Yes.”

“Single dad Jace Morgan?”

“Yes. I tried to stay professional. But—“ I cut myself off, huffing.

Sienna laughs, loud and knowing. “Uh-huh. Professional? Yeah, right. Look, girl, I get it. He’s attractive, tall, gruff, and probably smells like adventure or horses or…” She giggles, cutting herself off.

“Stop!” I snap, embarrassed, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Nope. Can’t stop. But seriously,” she continues, her tone shifting, “you need to remember why you’re there. Daisy. The job. Your safety. Focus on that. Jace? Yeah, he’s hot, but he’s not the priority. Nip those feelings in the bud. Iron Stallion is not forever.”

I swallow, nodding even though she can’t see me. “Yeah… you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she says smugly. “Now get your butt back to work, tutor and nanny extraordinaire. Focus. Don’t let your feelings get in the way.”

I laugh softly, letting her words sink in. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” she says. “Call me if you need more tough love.”

After I hang up with Sienna, I sit on the edge of the bed for a long moment, feeling lighter somehow. Sienna always knows how to put things into perspective. I need to focus and stick to why I’m here.

I drag myself off the bed and switch gears. If I can’t stop thinking about Jace, maybe I can at least think about something else. Something I can control.

Daisy. The reason I’m still here.

I pull out the binder I started for her; it’s half empty, half chaos. There’s a math worksheet folded like origami, a spelling list with doodles in the margins, and a sticky note that says ask about volcano project.

I sigh. “Okay, kiddo,” I mutter under my breath, “time for a system.”

For the next hour, I lose myself in the kind of focus that used to keep me sane in D.C. I sort through her assignments, set up a schedule, and even color-code the folders with the precision of a bored IT specialist who has way too much time on her hands.

Red for Math.

Blue for Reading.

Yellow for Science.