Page 5 of The Scrum-Half (Lincoln Knights #3)

Harper

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve made a mistake,” I said as I sipped my mug of hot summer berry squash and sank further into the armchair in the corner of my little sitting room, my phone lodged under my ear while I made myself comfortable.

My joints ached slightly, a casual reminder of how they didn’t always like me being on my feet all day, even if that came with the territory of looking after toddlers. I was hypermobile from the waist down and sometimes my body and brain had differing ideas about what my physical limits should be.

“Is it really that bad? Or is it just the initial awkward nerves?” Marissa asked. “You said you thought he’d had trouble with nannies before. Maybe he’s just worried you’ll leave and he’ll be back to square one.”

I hummed, because I’d been thinking the same thing. That was partly why I’d called Marissa, who was the middle child of my three older sisters, because we thought in very similar ways. And she’d always give me her honest opinion when I asked, so if I was totally screwed, at least I’d know it.

“I think that’s part of it, but I’m not sure it’s all of it.”

“What else could it be?”

“I don’t know,” I said, adjusting my legs until my hip popped and rolling my lips together, pulling all sorts of weird and wonderful faces as I thought.

“Stress? Jealousy? Inadequacy? From what he’s said, he’s been solo parenting for a couple of years while also playing rugby.

Maybe he’s feeling a bit torn between both of them? ”

Marissa hummed. “Could be. Remember when Sophie was struggling with the whole mum versus career thing? Like whether she could or should do both and feeling guilty about literally every option we thought of. Maybe you should talk to her about it?”

“No, I don’t want to stress her out,” I said. “And besides, I shouldn’t really be talking to anyone about this. It’s his private life.”

“Yeah, but it affects you too, and if he’s making it a shitty place to work, you need to be able to vent. But I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks.”

“The place is nice, though? You’ve got decent rooms this time?”

“Yes, it’s lovely! I’ve got a whole floor to myself,” I said, smiling as I looked around the room again. I hadn’t been expecting anything nearly this swanky, but it was basically a fully furnished luxury flat that was almost as big as some of the places I’d actually rented in the past.

The stairs from the second floor led into the living room, which had a plush sofa and armchair, a large TV, bookshelves and units, and a fully stocked kitchenette complete with a fridge and freezer, hob, kettle, toaster, microwave, and several large cupboards.

Beyond that was a bedroom with a king-sized bed, wardrobes, a chest of drawers, and bedside tables with little lamps attached to the wall above them, and an en-suite bathroom that had both a bath and shower.

Everything was beautifully decorated and well-maintained, and from a quick nosy at some of the labels, none of it was cheap either.

Matty had gone to a lot of effort to make sure that whoever lived here was comfortable.

He’d even said when I moved in that if I was missing anything, to let him know and he’d sort it, which was wild.

It was also the complete antithesis of his behaviour in the last few days, when he’d been grumpy, standoffish, and rude.

I totally understood that having me here was a change and that he was protective of Jack, but jumping down my throat and virtually accusing me of harming his son wasn’t acceptable.

Bad behaviour from parents was my biggest irritation, and I wasn’t about to let myself be pushed around. I was a damn good nanny and I had the experience to back it up. If Matty wanted to be a dick, then he’d better practise his apology skills because he was going to need them.

“A whole floor?” Marissa whistled. “Sounds posh.”

“It is. I feel like I’m living in one of those fancy holiday cottages, like the one we stayed in for Leigh’s wedding.”

“Sounds like all you’re missing is the pool.”

“Pretty much,” I said with a soft chuckle as I used the back of my hand to nudge my glasses up my nose.

My sister Leigh’s wedding had been in Italy three summers ago and was one of those “no expense spared” kind of affairs, but she had been marrying a tech millionaire, so that hadn’t been surprising.

But even though I spent a lot of time around wealthy people as part of my job, I’d still been stunned by how lavish the whole affair was. It’d almost made me uncomfortable.

I had made good friends with several of the nannies working for various attending families, though, and a couple of us had even been on holiday together a few times since.

“Oh, and that friend of Nick’s that Leigh kept trying to set you up with,” Marissa said teasingly. “That blond guy from California with the super obvious veneers who kept talking about how he was planning to retire by thirty-five and wanted a trophy twink.”

“Derek! Oh my God, I’d forgotten about him! He tried following me on literally everything and I had to block him because he kept messaging me about how I could come and be his trophy boy.” I laughed while Marissa made a choking noise.

“You and trophy boy are two things that will never go together.”

“You don’t think I’m hot enough to be a kept man?”

“I think you’d hate every fucking second of it and within two days I’d have to try and find you a really good lawyer to get you off a murder charge.”

I snorted then hissed as a little hot squash dripped onto my thigh. “You would find me a lawyer, though, right?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” she said, and I could hear her smiling.

“I’m going to put my camera on,” I said, sliding my phone out from under my ear so I could tap the button on the screen. “I miss your face. Plus this way I can pout at you when you try to deny rescuing me.”

Marissa laughed as her face appeared, her blonde hair scraped back with a pink towelling hair band and her skin covered in a green face mask. “You can see me in all my frog glory.”

“It suits you,” I said. “Green is definitely your colour.”

“Aww, thanks.” She blew a kiss at me as she sat back in bed. “So, how’s life in Lincoln? Have you had a chance to get out much?”

“No, not yet. But I’ve got some time off this weekend, so maybe then. I need to have a search, though, because I have no idea what’s on.”

“Just log onto Grindr and find someone hot to take you out,” she said with a wicked grin.

“How about no?”

“Oh, come on, why not? It’s a foolproof plan. You get an evening of fun with someone who actually knows the place you’re living, and you get dicked down at the end of it. It’s not like you have to do anything drastic like date him. You don’t even have to stay the night.”

“I know,” I said, taking another sip of my squash.

“Plus you deserve to have fun! When was the last time you went out anyway?” Marissa asked with a pointed look. I smiled at her over the rim of my mug.

“Do you really want to know that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? We’ve always talked about this stuff.”

She had a point. Nothing had ever been off-limits between the four of us.

My sisters had always been close and they’d just folded me into the conversations with them.

I’d never considered not telling them anything about my life because I knew everything about theirs—from their favourite period snacks to which of their exes sucked in bed to all of their fears and worries about life.

I’d even been in the room when both Sophie and Leigh had given birth, holding their hands as they attempted to break my fingers.

They’d known I was gay since I was nine and developed my first proper crush, given me oral sex advice at sixteen when I had my first boyfriend, cried with me at seventeen when I’d had my heart broken, and taken me clubbing in Ibiza for my twenty-first.

They were my family, and I loved them fiercely with every piece of my heart.

“Two weeks ago,” I said quietly. “I had a free weekend, so I went out, met someone, spent the whole weekend at his place, then left Monday morning. It was fun.”

“See, that’s what you need.” She tried to look smug, or at least triumphant, but her face mask had set and the only emotion she could display was indifference.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it,” I said, biting back a laugh as Marissa tried to move her face.

“Will you?”

“Yeah, I will.” Maybe if I took Marissa’s advice, I’d be able to distract myself from thinking about how sexy Matty was. It shouldn’t have been something I’d even noticed, but here I was, wondering what his beard would feel like on the inside of my thighs.

I blamed Sophie for making us watch The Lord of the Rings so much. Yes, Aragorn was the obvious choice but sue me, I’d always thought Gimli was kind of hot.

The only problem would be making sure my weekend of distraction didn’t cause me too much pain, which intense sex could sometimes do, because trying to explain to Matty why I was struggling would be absolutely mortifying. And definitely wouldn’t improve our already fragile relationship.

“How’s everything with you?” I asked, hoping to distract her away from further interrogating me about my life. “How’s things with your new boss? Is he still being a dick?”

“Oh my fucking God, don’t even get me started on that asshole!” Marissa rolled her eyes and I grinned, knowing she was about to vent for the next forty minutes without taking a breath.

Distraction achieved.

Later that night, when I probably should have been asleep, I tiptoed down to the kitchen because I realised I’d left my phone charger in the corner near the fridge, and since my alarm was on my phone, I was worried about being completely screwed over if I didn’t retrieve it.

Even if I could count on one hand the number of times I’d needed it to wake me up in the past five years.

Being an early childhood nanny meant I’d developed some sort of nanny-senses about when my charges were awake and ready to cause mischief, like some sort of low-budget Spiderman.

I’d lost track of how often I’d sat bolt upright in bed and muttered, “Something’s not right” to myself, only to open the door to find everything from vomiting, fevers, and chicken pox to a half-eaten birthday cake and a baby covered in excruciatingly expensive Dior lipstick.

But it was better to be safe than sorry, so an alarm was always necessary, just in case.

“Everything okay?” The sudden gruff voice startled me, and I squeaked with fright as Matty stepped out of the utility room holding a basket of clean washing with a tub of ice cream balanced on top.

“Sugar beans! You startled me!” I clutched my chest, doubled over with shock that had started to melt into laughter—my default response to stress. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be up.”

“It’s all right. I forgot to fold this earlier,” Matty said, hefting the washing basket. I tried not to stare as his low-slung joggers slipped and his T-shirt rode up, revealing a wide strip of skin with a trail of dark red hair leading into his waistband.

I should not have wanted to run my tongue through it as much as I did.

“I, er, I thought I was going to be doing Jack’s washing?” I asked slowly, trying to get my brain in gear. Luckily, Matty didn’t seem to have noticed me staring. Hopefully, he just thought my lack of ability to construct a sentence was still due to shock.

“Er, yeah. Maybe? But I don’t always have a lot since the club washes most of our kit.

I can always throw it all in together. Or I mean, we can split it?

I don’t know how you usually do it. Do you usually put your clothes in with the kids’?

I mean, it won’t be difficult to tell stuff apart if everything gets mixed up.

” He sighed and scrubbed his face with a broad hand.

“Fuck, now I sound like a creep asking about how you prefer to wash your pants.”

“You’re fine, I promise.”

“Look, Jack’s dirty stuff usually goes in the wicker laundry basket in the bathroom. We can both keep an eye on it and put a load on when we need to. Does that work?”

“Sounds good,” I said. I was pretty sure I’d end up doing most of it, but if Matty needed this to feel like he was still in control of something or helping out, then that was fine with me.

“Good. Cool, that works.”

There was an awkward pause as both of us searched around for something to say.

“Have you—” Matty said as I opened my mouth to say, “What flavour—”

I chuckled and shook my head. “You first.”

“Have you had a good evening?” Matty asked. “And, er, it’s chocolate.”

“Always a good choice, but my go-to is always strawberry.”

“Strawberry, seriously?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with strawberry?”

“Nothing, I just… I don’t know actually. It fits you.” He nodded like he was confirming it to himself that, yes, I was a strawberry person, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks. And my evening was good. I rang my sister for a catch-up.”

“Sounds nice. Are you two close?”

“Yeah, well, I have three sisters and I’m close to all of them. I’m the youngest and they can be kind of… nosy. They like knowing everything about my life, but I don’t mind. I know everything about theirs.”

Matty nodded again, a wistful look in his eyes, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have said anything. Some people didn’t want to know about the lives of their staff, but I wasn’t sure it was that. It seemed more like he missed something.

“Marissa liked my rooms, though,” I said, aiming to sort of change the subject. “Said you had very good taste and I have to agree. They’re lovely.”

He brightened slightly. “Oh good, I’m glad they’re okay. I’ve never had any complaints but everyone’s different.”

“They’re perfect. Very comfortable.”

There was another awkward pause. “I should let you go,” Matty said, shifting the washing basket in his arm again. “And probably put this ice cream back in the freezer before it melts and everything needs washing again.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you…” I grabbed for my phone charger, missing it a few times before I managed to wrap my fingers around the cord. “Well, good night.”

“Night, Harper. Sleep well,” he said softly as I turned and scuttled away, my heart racing.

There seemed to be a hint of soft sadness underneath Matty’s grumpy defensiveness that prodded at something in my chest. I shouldn’t have wanted to know more, but I did.

And as I closed the door to my bedroom, I couldn’t help wondering if he was lonely.