Page 8 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

C hase

What the hell is happening?

I run a hand down my face. The scruff I didn’t bother to shave last night is rough against my palm. I open my mouth and work my jaw around once, then twice to dispel some of the surprise … frustration … tension of the last few minutes.

How is she at my house?

Bits and pieces from my conversation with Megan—a name that I went to great lengths last night not to learn—come barreling back at me.

Her new job. Being in Peachwood Falls. Not being familiar with the area.

She probably had my address in her GPS instead of The Ridges.

I growl into the air.

Megan is so damn hot that it’s almost unreal. Blond hair. Bright blue eyes. A beauty mark off-center below her left eye. Her body is ridiculous, with curves that my fingers itch to skim.

Her laughter mixes with my mother’s voice outside the door, and I can’t help it. I smile—because that’s the shit that kept me up all night. That’s the shit I can’t shake.

Every time I think of her little smirk and playfulness when she’s teasing me, I can’t help but grin.

She brushed off my scowl like she wasn’t concerned with my obvious irritation at stopping to help.

Instead, she pestered me, joked around, and her boundless energy and never-ending mouth were somehow … cute.

She’s everything I don’t need to fuck around with. Period.

I toss my soiled clothes into the laundry hamper by the sink and then pull on the clean jeans and flannel I set out before I left for Gavin’s this morning.

She’s the nanny? She’s staying here for a month?

How did this go from one of Mom’s friends to a sexpot?

I button my shirt.

This isn’t what I signed up for. I didn’t agree with this. I have my hands overflowing with Kennedy’s teenage bullshit and work. There’s no bandwidth left to deal with —Megan’s and Mom’s voices grow louder— that every day for thirty damn days.

“This is never going to work,” I grumble. “There’s no reason to start it. I didn’t want a fucking nanny anyway. I’ll call in favors from Luke and Gavin. God knows they owe me anyway.”

Mom’s laughter rings through the closed door again.

“Maggie Mae Marshall, we’re going to talk about this,” I mutter.

I yank open the door with more force than necessary. I’m unsure if it’s to affirm that I’m taking a stand or to broadcast my irritation before entering the room. Both heads turn toward me as I step into the kitchen.

Megan leans back in her chair, an arm draped over the seat next to her. Casually confident . Her lips are pressed together like she’s waiting patiently for me to explode.

I want to explode all right. So that’s why you gotta go.

“Can someone clue me in as to what’s going on?” I ask, ripping my eyes away from her mouth.

“Megan is Kennedy’s new nanny,” Mom says, chirping like a damn songbird. “I had her come by this morning so we could have brunch and show her around before she meets Kennedy and moves in.”

Move in? Oh, hell no.

I hold out a hand. “Let’s …let’s back this whole thing up a minute, Mom.”

“What? Why?”

I sigh.

My explanation should come quickly and easily. I’m too attracted to have Megan in my house twenty-four hours a day for a month. She’ll hinder me a hell of a lot more than she’ll help.

But I can’t exactly say that.

“I didn’t realize you’d hired someone,” I lie. “I thought you were bringing people by so we could interview them.”

“Chase Ryan, you know that’s not true.”

“So, what? You just chose someone for me?” I ask as if this shocks me. “You chose a random woman I’ve never met to live in my house and care for my baby girl?”

“ She’s fourteen ,” Mom says, her no-nonsense tone hard to argue with.

But I do.

“I wouldn’t give a shit if she were five,” I fire back. “Actually, it might be easier if she were a toddler and not a teenager hell-bent on coming up pregnant or dead.”

Mom sighs. “You’re exaggerating.”

“ Barely .”

Megan drops her hand from the chair and leans forward. “Excuse me. The teenager part of this I can handle. The rest of it? This is not what I expected.”

“That makes two of us,” I say, lifting a brow.

“What are you saying?” she asks.

I look at her. I want to fuck you senseless is what I’m saying.

“Can we just take a breath?” Mom asks, rolling her eyes. “I know this situation isn’t what any of us expected, but Denise breaking her leg changed things, and I thought we were all in agreement that this was the best solution.”

“I don’t even know her,” I say, gesturing to Megan.

Megan stands, her eyes narrowed. “Are you implying that I’m untrustworthy?”

It’s not you that I don’t trust, sweetheart.

My chest rises and falls with more force than necessary as I watch her hand clench the bend of her hip. Her anger should make me feel embarrassed for my behavior, maybe. Or guilt-ridden for making this whole thing a big deal. I should probably feel like a dick for being one.

The only way her confidence makes me feel is … damn .

“ I trusted you —on a backroad at dusk, no less,” she says. “And now you have trust issues? That’s rich.”

I narrow my eyes at her, hoping she’ll back down. She doesn’t. She doesn’t even flinch.

“You trusted me because you needed me,” I say, irritated that she’s making this more complicated than it needs to be. “I can be more discerning. I don’t need you.”

“Yes, you do, Chase,” Mom says with exasperation.

I slide my gaze to hers. “Please let me handle this.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Mom gets to her feet, the pink sequins on her shirt catching the sunlight and almost blinding me. “Megan is the daughter of one of my very best friends, and I trust her implicitly. I?—”

“Well, that’s great,” I say. My blood pressure rises at Mom’s assumption that my opinion doesn’t matter—and the fact that I’m grasping for control. Probably mostly the latter. “But I don’t know her. I don’t know anything about her. Maybe I don’t want?—”

“Okay, hold on a second ,” Megan says. The fire in her eyes burns a straight line to my cock. “First, I’m standing here, so please don’t talk about me like I’m not. Second, I don’t need you either. And after listening to your rant, I’m not sure I want to work for someone with such a ...”

“ A what ? Go on. Finish it.”

She narrows her eyes. “ A bad attitude .”

“I don’t have a bad attitude,” I fire back.

Mom sighs. “Yes, you do.”

“Mom, please …”

Megan bites her bottom lip. Sometimes people do that when they’re thinking. Megan’s thinking all right—she thinks she’ll get me to crack. To give in. To backtrack and apologize.

Not happening.

“Okay, let’s look at it like this,” I say, approaching the problem from another angle. “How am I supposed to trust a woman with my child who thought a hairbrush was an acceptable weapon?”

“It was all I had.”

“You were unprepared.”

She huffs. “Hardly. I was resourceful .”

I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Let’s look at it like this ,” she says, her voice growing cocky as she throws my language back at me. “Why should I trust a man who threatened to leave me sitting in the middle of a darkened cornfield?”

Mom gasps. “ You better not have .”

Megan’s lips purse together. “Maybe I need to rethink this commitment.”

“I didn’t threaten to leave you. I told you I’d leave you to your own devices because you thought I would do something bad to you .

There are two reasons for that—one of them being trust issues,” I say, smirking.

“You didn’t automatically trust me either, sweetheart. Hell, you barely trusted yourself.”

Megan narrows her eyes. I give her a smug grin that only irritates her more. And that only makes her hotter, which is a problem I can’t remedy—a problem I’m not willing to extend over a month. I’m not Luke . I’m not a glutton for punishment with no responsibilities and lots of time on my hands.

“I could barely trust myself? Are you projecting, Chase, dear ?” Megan asks. The pulse of her jaw negates the sweetness in her voice.

“I—”

“I think you two are getting off topic,” Mom says.

“This is Megan’s comfort zone,” I say, my eyes not leaving the nanny’s . “She lets Chris lead her astray all the time.”

She grins. “ Oh , are you jealous of Chris? Is that what this is?”

“ Chris doesn’t know jack shit .”

“Chris is practically a superhero, thank you very much.”

I scoff.

“Will you two please stop it?” Mom says with a giant sigh. “You’re fighting like an old married couple.”

Megan gives me a final glare before turning to my mom. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

“No apologies needed,” Mom says, patting Megan’s shoulder as she walks by. “I know this situation is stressful for all of us. Right, Chase ?”

I look at the ceiling and sigh.

Mom has made her point, and she knows it. None of us wants to be here, in the position of needing someone to stay with Kennedy. Not me, not Kennedy, not Mom, and apparently not Megan. Yet here we are .

If I ask Gavin and Luke to help with my daughter, Mom will stay home. She loves my brothers, but she also knows her sons would let Kennedy get away with much more than she deserves. Mom would cancel her vacation with my sister, and she needs to see Kate. And Kate needs her. It’s been too long.

Mom hasn’t had a real getaway since Child Protective Services called ten years ago to tell me I was a single dad.

Shit.

I look at Megan, my resolve waning. “Did you call the rental company about your car this morning?”

She blinks slowly.

“I told you it wasn’t safe to drive around,” I say, frustrated with her lack of concern for her safety.

“Well, I had an appointment this morning. You know, to have brunch with a family I would be staying with to help them out of a pinch.”

The intensity flowing from one to the other makes my heart pound. I have no idea what I’ll do with her or how to handle this situation, but I better get a grip on it and do it fast.

“I’ll tell you what,” Mom says, picking up her cell phone off the table. “I’m going to step outside and call Kate to book the massages we discussed last night. God knows I’m going to need one. And, while I do that, the two of you will work this out. Understood?”

Megan and I stare at each other, the energy between us crackling.

“You have ten minutes,” Mom says, heading for the door.

Ten minutes to work this out.

Like that will be possible.