Page 13 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

“Do you even hear yourself? Besides…” She pointedly glanced over at Emma, who was having the time of her life. “I feel like this one could use a little more of it, don’t you think?”

My mom was right. I knew she was right. And so did she from the look she leveled me with.

“As always, Mom nailed it,” Lincoln said.

“Nobody asked you.”

“Oh, I thought we were here to give advice to the single dad who’s woefully in over his head. Are we not? That’s what my invitation said.”

“You’re not qualified to give a gopher advice, much less a single dad. How’s the bar anyway?”

“Less dramatic than your life, which you should be absolutely horrified about.” Lincoln stood, twirling his keys around his finger. “But speaking of, I’ve gotta run. Willa is meeting me there at eleven, and she’s grumpier than usual if I’m late.”

“How is Willa?” Mom asked as she helped Emma.

“Yeah, Linc, how is your best friend’s baby sister?” I goaded because the asshole deserved it.

He flipped me off before turning his attention to Mom. “Fed up with my shit.”

“She’s not the only one,” I said dryly.

“Careful, Xan. Or you might find yourself on the other end of a double shift at the bar next weekend. Hell, maybe I’ll swing by your house while you’re working to see how the hot nanny is handling things.”

“The hell you will. The last thing Chloe needs is a distraction.” Never mind that I would be the one most distracted thinking about him there, charming her. Pulling her focus away from my daughter, which was why I paid her. “And don’t call her hot.”

Sunday night, I was knee-deep in tangles and in desperate need of a miracle.

I didn’t know how or when I’d pissed off the God of Hair, but I had no doubt I had. That was the only explanation I had for the torment I faced every time I brushed this clusterfuck. Or attempted to anyway.

“Ow, Daddy!”

“Sorry, peanut,” I said, cringing along with her. “I don’t understand how there’re already so many tangles. I just brushed it before your bath.”

“You’re pulling too hard.”

“I’m trying to be careful. Just sit still.”

“I wish LoLee was here to do it,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering.

And I didn’t know if it was the tremor in her voice or my little girl asking for a practical stranger over me that had my gut twisting. Probably both.

“When’s she coming home?” Though Emma didn’t say the words, I could hear the underlying “ is she coming home?” fear threaded into the sentence.

“Soon.” Both too soon and not soon enough, in my book.

As if she’d heard Emma’s plea, Chloe unlocked the front door and strode in, a bright smile on her face. And Jesus, I’d thought getting some distance from her would help tamp down this uncontrollable draw I couldn’t seem to stop feeling around her.

But fuck me, it had actually gotten worse .

Because seeing her now, after two days without, was like jumper cables to my chest. Let alone my cock.

She wore jeans and a V-neck sweater that dipped too fucking low for my sanity.

Her hair was pulled back from her face, leaving the long column of her neck and her collarbone on full display—as if I needed the reminder of how goddamn soft her skin looked—not to mention the tattoo in sloping script below it that I shouldn’t be dissecting as closely as I was.

“LoLee!” Emma escaped mid-brush, running straight to Chloe. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, doodlebug. Tell me all the things!” Chloe ran a hand down Emma’s tangled hair. “What’s happening here?”

“Daddy’s trying to brush my hair.” Emma glanced at me over her shoulder, then leaned toward Chloe to whisper, “It’s not going so good.”

Chloe snorted and looked at me, her amusement at the situation only making my scowl deepen. “Want some help, Chief?”

“I got it,” I said sharply.

Emma grabbed Chloe’s hand and dragged her over to the couch before pushing her onto the cushion next to me. “Daddy’s fibbing. He doesn’t got it.”

Chloe glanced at me and shrugged. “You heard the boss. You don’t got it.”

“I’m handling it fine.”

“Please, Daddy. Can LoLee do it?” Emma tugged on my hand, those puppy-dog eyes demolishing my resolve in an instant.

I blew out a heavy sigh. “Fine.”

“ Yes !” Emma fist-pumped the air.

“First, we need our supplies,” Chloe said. “Will you grab the magic bag from my room?”

Before Chloe had even finished the question, Emma took off up the stairs, leaving the two of us alone. I wanted Chloe to sit in silence. Just not say a damn word. But of course that was too much to ask for the human version of the Energizer Bunny.

“Rough weekend, Chief?” she asked, glancing over at me.

“It was fine,” I snapped, irritated at myself that I was this far in and still hadn’t figured out Emma’s hair—or anything, really. And even more irritated that that very fact was so obvious to Chloe.

I hated the idea of failing my daughter. And for some reason, I equally hated the idea of failing her in front of my new nanny.

“Got it!” Emma cried, running into the room and skidding to a stop between Chloe’s legs.

Chloe accepted the bag with a smile before unzipping the pouch. She pulled out a spray bottle of detangler, a glittery hairbrush, and a scrunchie with—what else—unicorns on it.

She rested her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “Are you ready for the most gentle hair magic this side of the fairy realm?”

Emma grinned broadly and nodded. “Yes!”

Right. As if a glitter brush, some placebo spray that probably amounted to water, and a decorative scrunchie were going to be the answer to my daughter’s nightmare hair.

But once again, Chloe proved me wrong.

I sat in stunned silence as she patiently, expertly, untangled Emma’s rat’s nest before French braiding her hair.

And doing it all in under five minutes. Not only had it taken her a third of the time I’d already been working on it, but Emma didn’t whimper once—not even a grimace—as Chloe worked whatever demon magic she held in her body.

I wanted to be grateful. I should have been grateful. But instead, all I felt like was a failure. Something I seemed to be feeling more and more as the days went on.

“All done, doodlebug,” Chloe said.

“Thank you, LoLee!” Emma spun around and threw her arms around Chloe’s neck. “Can you teach Daddy how to do it so it doesn’t hurt?”

“Sure.” Chloe slid her gaze to mine, that ever-present heat that just wouldn’t go the fuck away arcing between us. “I’ll give you a lesson anytime, Chief. Just say the word.”

She was talking about fixing Emma’s hair. Clearly. So then why did I hear an undercurrent of desire laced in her tone?

And why the hell was my cock half hard thanks to it?