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T he envelope crinkles, rough against my trembling hands. I should have stuck it behind the cookie jar with the rest. Instead, I chose to start the morning under a black storm cloud, no doubt setting a precedent for the rest of this miserable Monday.

Final Notice taunts me, emblazoned across the clean white paper in bold red ink.

I tear it open, only to find another mortgage payment that I don’t have the money to pay for.

Cyrus, my brother-in-law, would front me the money if I asked, but— I swallow around the lump in my throat and swipe at the tears gathering in my eyes.

Shoving the bill in the growing pile behind the ceramic bear-shaped cookie jar, I force out a breath.

“We’ll be fine, Mags. You’ll find a way like you have for the past four years. ”

Roman would know what to do. A gusted breath passes my lips.

He always knew what to do.

Roman wouldn’t have let our finances get this bad in the first place . Nausea churns in my stomach, the same way it does every time I think of him.

My husband.

My first love.

If only he was still alive.

It’ll be fine. It has to be.

Spinning, I brace my hands on the edge of the kitchen sink, and my eyes wander to the rows of trees outside the window. Nearly ripe apples peek from behind the green leaves. Bright red and just waiting to be picked.

It’s almost harvest season. Pretty soon, people will be lining up at the orchard gates to select their own bushel and enjoy a hayride around the grounds. At least, I hope they will. After last year, I’m not so sure.

If we can just make it through the remainder of summer, then the cash should start flowing again.

Busying my hands to distract myself from my chaotic thoughts, I focus on the dishes in the sink. The pink plastic plate adorned with rainbows and unicorns has a smile tugging at my lips.

At least I have Lily. Everything I do is for her now. I pulled myself out of that dark pit four years ago… for her .

Turning my head, my eyes cut across the room to the kitchen table, landing on my five-year-old daughter.

Her tiny legs swing beneath her chair, eyebrows pinched while her little tongue pokes out of her mouth. Intense green gaze focused on the purple crayon in her hand, she scribbles a path along the paper.

Uncapped markers and glitter paints litter the worn wood of the tabletop like an explosion of creativity.

“What are you working on, Lily bug?” Setting the final plate on the drying rack, I flip off the water and dry my hands on the dish towel before wandering over to where she sits.

As I peer over her shoulder at the paper, I stroke a hand through her curly blonde ponytail and spot—

“A buttfly!” Shimmering light eyes peek up at me as she bounces in her seat.

I stifle my laugh and smile. “And what a beautiful butterfly it is. What colors did you use?”

“All my favorites, Momma!”

Sure enough, the butterfly’s wings are decked out in every shade of purple and pink in her art box. Bright, bold, and sparkling, just like her vibrant personality. “It’s perfect, Lil. Should we hang it on the fridge when you’re done?”

Chubby cheeks smudged with purple marker scrunch when she smiles, showcasing a missing bottom tooth. The first of many to come.

She’s not my little baby anymore. In a few weeks, she’ll be starting kindergarten and making new friends. My heart squeezes with every sign of her getting older.

It squeezes to the point of pain when I remember all the milestones Roman’s missed. Clutching at my chest, I wipe that thought away. It’s too early in the morning for a pity party, Mags.

A clipped knock at the front door has my head swinging up. “I’m going to get the door. Let me know when you’re all done.”

“Okay!” Oblivious to the second round of knocks, Lily picks up her crayon and turns her attention back to her masterpiece.

With my daughter sufficiently occupied, I head down the hall as another knock rings through the air. “Impatient much?”

I’m about ready to read this person the riot act, but the breath stalls in my lungs when I swing the door wide and am met by the most handsome man I’ve ever seen—besides Roman.

Striking rich crimson eyes meet mine, and my brain goes blank. “C-Can I help you?” I manage to choke out. Smooth, Maggie.

“Mrs. Maggie Wilcox?” His dark eyebrows rise, a direct contrast to his nearly translucent white hair.

The long strands are neatly combed back into a sleek ponytail, fastened at the base of his skull, and leaving his sharp jaw on display for my wandering eyes.

A jaw that’s been carved from marble, surely, like one of those famous statues you’d see in a museum.

Is it hot in here, or is it just me? Every inch of my skin heats, and I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth before continuing my perusal.

He really must be carved from marble; his skin is so pale, it’s unnatural, and he nearly glows where the morning sun beats against the side of his face.

Based on his appearance alone, I’d wager he’s something otherworldly, but I know it’s rude to ask .

Humans and monsters live in symbiosis for the most part, so I try to treat them like I would anyone else.

In fact, several of my harvest employees are monsters. Wings make it surprisingly easy to reach the apples at the tippy-tops of the trees that would otherwise go unpicked.

A throat clearing pulls me back to the oddly attractive stranger on my doorstep. His full lips curl up in a grin, revealing glinting sharp fangs.

Definitely not human.

My cheeks burn as I extend my hand and try to recover from my blatant ogling. “Yes, actually it’s Ms. Wilcox. I’m no longer married.” I’m not sure why I clarify the status of my love life. “How can I help you?”

He nods, gripping my hand in a firm shake.

Goosebumps race up my arm at the contact. He’s so cold . My mind wanders to what it would be like to have his chilly hands running up the outsides of my thighs while he pinned me to the wall.

I shiver, yanking my hand from his and instantly missing the icy kiss against my palm. What’s wrong with you, Mags? Lusting after a man you’ve literally just met. He could be a serial killer, for crying out loud!

“Right. Ms. I’m Viktor Bielski. I was sent by Bottles and Babes Nanny Co. to care for one Liliana.”

So, probably not a serial killer.

Once his words register, my jaw drops. But— “I didn’t hire a nanny. There must be some kind of mistake. Are you sure you’re at the right house? ”

Long fingers slip into the breast pocket of his peacock-blue suit jacket, drawing my gaze when he pulls out a thick stack of folded papers.

As he unfolds them, I catch the official company letterhead at the top. Seems legit. Still doesn’t explain who hired him.

“Is this your address?” He turns the papers to face me, and I scan the address listed under my name.

“Yes.”

“And we’ve already established you’re Maggie Wilcox.”

Okay, so he’s probably in the right place.

Viktor flips through the papers, skimming the lines with a slender finger before tapping a spot.

“A Mr. Cyrus Wilcox paid the contract in full… for the rest of August and first months of autumn. Three months total.” His eyes swing up from the papers, and I’m dumbfounded, mouth gaping like a damn fish.

Of course Cyrus is behind this. Never one to let me refuse his help, he’s taken matters into his own hands this time. He knows I’ve been struggling to keep up with running the orchard while Lily is home on summer break.

And fall is harvest season, our busiest time of year.

Oh, he’s about to get an earful. Once I figure out what the hell is going on.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the doorframe. I don’t miss the quick downward flick of Viktor’s eyes. They land on my chest before slowly skimming back up to my face.

My spine straightens under his perusal, pushing my small breasts out farther. Let the man look. It’s been years since I’ve been checked out .

“You don’t look like a nanny,” I say, gaze sliding over his brightly patterned silk shirt and blue three-piece suit.

The fabric is molded to his tall, lightly muscled frame like it was sewn onto him.

A chain dangles from the small pocket of his vest, probably attached to a fancy old-fashioned watch.

He seems the type—stuffy and uptight. “You look more like a flamboyant chocolatier from a children’s movie.

” I can’t help the giggle that slips out.

Clearing his throat, Viktor tugs at the burgundy tie wrapped around his neck. “And what should a nanny look like?”

“First of all, you’re a man,” I retort. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a male nanny, not that I have much experience with childcare.

Before Roman died, I stayed home with Lily.

Since then, I’ve been fortunate enough to work from the small office space off the kitchen while Lily plays in the kitchen or living room.

“Does being a man make me ill-equipped to care for a child?”

My face flames. As a single woman running a business, I should know better than to judge someone based on their anatomy alone. “Um, well, no. But—”

“Who were you expecting? Mary Poppins?” Those damn fangs peek out when he flashes a mirthful smile my way.

My eyebrows dip together, and I chew on my lower lip, trying not to think about what it would be like to have those fangs scrape against my flesh.

Shit. Where did that thought come from?

Schooling my features, I recover quickly and throw a retort his way.

“No. Although, you are dressed like her.” Viktor’s smile widens, making my lips curve into a devilish grin.

“How are you going to chase after a rambunctious five-year-old in that ?” One finger points to his stuffy outfit.

Still a strange choice for a supposed nanny, if you ask me.

The smile dissolves from his face, and he fidgets under my gaze, fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch before straightening the hem of his vest. “I’ll manage just fine, Ms. Wilcox. I haven’t met a child I couldn’t corral in all my years of service.”

“If you say so,” I sing-song, stepping back from the door and letting him into the house. “I suppose we could do a trial run today to see if Lily likes you. But this isn’t the Upper East Side. This is the country… We’re not afraid to get dirty around here, city boy.”

Oh my god, am I flirting? Where are these brash words coming from?

“I bet you know all about getting dirty, country girl.” He returns my remark tenfold, thirsty eyes perusing from the tips of my toes to the messy pile of blonde curls tied in a bun on the top of my head.

Once he’s done eye-fucking me, he has the sheer audacity to wink.

I didn’t think I could possibly blush any harder, but my skin must be close to the color of a ripe apple, and sweat dampens the armpits of my shirt. I’m so out of practice with how to act around an attractive member of the opposite sex.

Luckily, I have a daughter with zero filter and the inability to judge a situation before she interrupts.

“Whoa! Are you a vampire?”

Ladies and gentlemen, there she is… right on cue .

Heads turning at the same time, Viktor and I find Lily standing in the entryway hall, mouth hanging open and eyes as wide as saucers.

“Lily,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “We talked about this. You can’t just ask someone what kind of monster they are.” Swinging back toward Viktor, I wince. “Sorry.”

His expression softens, warming when he lowers to one knee and extends a hand to my daughter.

Even bent down, Viktor is a large, looming figure as she comes to stand in front of him. Damn, he’s gotta be well over six-feet tall.

“Quite alright, little one. I’m Viktor. And you must be Liliana.”

Lily eyes his outstretched hand with a furrowed brow before finally taking it in her little hand. The size difference is adorable and has my ovaries perking up. What the hell?

Four years of grieving and being alone, not once has my body been interested in anyone—man, woman, monster, or anything in between. Why is this vampire suddenly getting my blood pumping?

“And you are correct. I am a vampire.” A smile has his fangs poking out to dig into his plump lower lip. My insides turn to goo when Lily takes a step closer, a grin lighting up her face. “I’m here to play with you today. Would you like that?”

Lily peers up at me, eyebrows lifted in question.

“It’s okay, Lily bug. Viktor is a friend. He’s going to take care of you while I work for a few hours.” I point down the hall behind her, where my office is. “I’ll be right in my office if you need me. Sound good? ”

My words spark confidence in her eyes. For as long as she can remember, it’s just been the two of us. So I’m not sure how she’ll take to a stranger, but I’ll keep an eye on them until I’m assured Viktor’s as qualified as he claims.

“Can we play dolls?” Lily bounces on her toes, vibrating with energy.

“I would be honored to play dolls with you, little one.” Straightening to a stand, Viktor tips his chin down to me and winks once more.

He really needs to stop with the subtle flirtations. I’m not sure I like the flutters he’s awoken between my thighs.

My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans, saving me from trying to flirt with Viktor. Pulling it out, Cyrus’s name lights up the display. Sneaky asshole . “I’ve got to take this,” I say, but Lily has already dragged Viktor down the hall, her tiny hand clutched in his giant one.

“My dragon doll is my favorite. Annie gave it to me! She’s a real dragon. Have you ever met a dragon?” Lily chatters away as I follow behind them. To say she’s obsessed with Cyrus’s mate is the understatement of the century.

We part ways in the kitchen. Lily and Viktor head to the family room, while I head into my office, listening to her happy voice as it filters into the room behind me. Viktor assured me he’s qualified. He was hired through a nanny agency, so he must be trustworthy. Right?

Plopping into my desk chair, I swipe my thumb across the screen of my still ringing phone and press it to my ear. “Oh, you’re in trouble!”