Page 158 of Nine Week Nanny

“I didn’t run, I was trying to survive. But you left me. You stopped talking to me. You were all but gone, even though we lived in the same house.”

“I was trying to protect you. I did that because I thought if I ended things, Chris would leave you out of this. My attorney told me that I had to end things to remove you from the equation.”

“I wish you would have told me all of that at the time. Because it felt like you were done with me, especially considering what I heard you say on the phone.”

I drop my head. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

“I know now I should have talked to you. If I could go back, I would do it right. I loved you even then. I just thought pushing you away would keep you safe. In the end, you were still dragged through the mud, and I lost you, too.”

“It was a dark time, Pope. I’m not going to lie.”

“Sloan, I’m so sorry. I hate everything that happened. I fucked up.”

“We both fucked up. I’m a survivor, and I came through it on the other side. But it broke something in me. I need to know that if I trust you again, you won’t disappear.”

“I will do better. I won’t shut you out, I won’t stop protecting you, but I won’t keep things from you if you can trust me again. I’ll show you.”

“How am I supposed to make clear decisions when you touch me like you do?” She smiles, lightening the moment. I’m grateful for the small gesture.

Her smile is small, but real. It loosens the knot in my chest. I take it as the first crack of light breaking through.

“You’re the one who keeps ending up in my hotel bed.”

Her lips twitch, but it’s not a full smile. “Yeah, but last time I left with a hangover and a reasonable expectation I would never see you again. This time, I probably should’ve known better.”

The joke stings because it’s true. I shift onto my side, close enough to brush a knuckle along her arm, but not pushing. “This time is different.”

She turns her head, studies me like she’s weighing the odds. “Is it?”

I don’t blame her for asking. The last time she trusted me, she ended up on every gossip site in Palm Beach, ripped from Lennon’s life, and fired from the job she’d built her future around.

“If you’ll let it be,” I say quietly.

Her hand skims down my chest, slow, testing. The heat sparks instantly, and when her lips brush mine, I feel myself start to tip into the old rhythm—fast, hungry, thoughtless.

I break the kiss, breathing hard against her mouth. “If this is going to work, it can’t just be about sex. Not this time.”

Her eyes search mine, wary but curious. “And what exactly do you suggest instead?”

I trace a line along her arm, keeping it gentle, deliberate. “Spend the day with me.”

She blinks, like that’s the last thing she expected.

“In Palm Beach, I never gave us that,” I admit. “It was stolen nights, closed doors. I want something different here. Show me Charleston. Or—” I hesitate, the words foreign on my tongue, “—we could do something touristy. Carriage ride, coffee, whatever you want.”

Her brows lift, amused. “You? In a horse-drawn carriage?”

I shrug, letting a smile tug at my mouth. “If that’s what it takes to prove I’m not just here to get you back in bed, I’ll risk the humiliation.”

The corner of her lip curls, the smallest crack in her defenses. “Coffee first. Then we’ll see about the horses.”

We fallinto step as we step out of the elevator in the grand hotel. The morning is sticky with salt air and the sound of gulls overhead.

“I was going to suggest we head back to Indigo,” I say. “It worked out pretty well for me yesterday.”

Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile. “Funny thing is, that wasn’t even my spot. I’d never been there before. My go-to is Kudu.”

I glance down at her, surprised. “Never been there, and you just happened to show up while I was sitting out front?”