Page 17 of Worst Nanny Ever (Babes of Brewing #2)

Heat flashes through her eyes. “Yeah. So noted. Roland was paying for some kind of game subscription service on this iPad he gave Ollie, but he cancelled it. It sent Ollie spiraling, so I decided to make him feel better. And yes, all of this is very juvenile, but it’s also harmless, and he’s a kid.

Juvenile is his language. But he didn’t want me to tell you about the iPad, because you already told him he’s too young for screens. ”

“He doesn’t trust me,” I say, feeling deflated. I already knew that, but it doesn’t feel great to have my fear validated.

“So show him you won’t overreact to every little thing.”

“I’m starting to think you just enjoy giving me a hard time,” I say tightly. “Go ahead and get that towel. I’ll get you a shirt to change into.”

“You don’t need to?—”

“I’m getting you a different shirt, because yours is transparent, and we’re not done with this conversation.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I can’t help it. My gaze lowers to her tits again, taking in the sweet curve of them under her shirt. I’m still worked up, and right now I want to push her against a wall and take that shirt off myself. I want to lower my head and lick off the soda.

I feel her staring right back, and the urge pulses stronger as blood funnels down to my dick.

“Your shirt is covered in glitter,” she remarks, reaching over and skimming the hem of it with her fingers. “Are you going to change too?”

I grab her hand, and her gaze immediately darts to mine, full of the same kind of heat that’s pulsing through me. I should drop her hand. I need to. But I hold on and edge closer .

My ringing phone pierces the moment, which is probably for the best, because it’s the ring tone I assigned to her .

To Lilah.

Gold Digger.

I release Hannah’s hand.

“You should get that towel,” I say. “I have to take this.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

I consider it for half a second, even as the phone keeps ringing, then shake my head. “No. I’d like you to stay.” I pause, letting myself take one last look at her before she leaves. “You can grab a shirt from my dresser.”

She surprises me by lifting onto her toes to kiss my cheek, her full lips soft against my skin. Before I can say or do anything, she turns and walks back toward my bedroom. I’m still watching her swaying ass as the ringer stops. Then starts again. My bedroom’s going to keep smelling like her…

I’m surprised by the little voice in my head that says, Good .

I check my phone and am annoyed to discover it’s a video call, and even more annoyed to see Lilah’s in a sparkly red dress, calling me from a restaurant. I answer the call as I head over to the couch and lower down.

“Is Ollie awake?” she asks.

“No. It’s past ten.”

“Tell him I’m sorry I missed him,” she says, but she doesn’t look particularly surprised or sorry. “But I actually need to speak with you .”

“Oh?”

She plays with a strand of her hair, drawing this out. “Someone sent Roland a glitter bomb and some other unwanted deliveries, and he thinks I’m behind it.”

I hear a stifled laugh and glance back to see Hannah standing in the threshold leading to the back end of the house. I do a double take at the sight of her. She has swapped the soaked T-shirt for one of my Garbage Fire T-shirts.

Does she know what she’s doing to me?

Probably.

I’ll bet she likes it too. Not in the way Lilah would—because a man’s desire gives her power—but because she loves to tease and laugh.

“Travis?” Lilah says shrilly, recapturing my attention. “Were you behind this?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I sent your husband a glitter bomb?” I ask, sounding pretty convincing, if I do say so myself. “Does that sound like something I would do?”

There are other things I’d like to say to her, an ocean’s worth of anger I’d love to unleash, but I don’t need more drama with her.

The only thing I want from her is her continued absence.

She’s already been gone for six weeks. Only two and a half more, and she’ll meet the state’s threshold for child abandonment.

So I don’t want to do or say anything that’s going to piss her off enough that she decides to end her little hiatus early and try to take Ollie away to spite me.

She narrows her gaze on me. “Is that glitter on your clothes?”

A strangled sound issues from behind the couch, but I manage to keep a straight face. “It’s from a school project I helped our son with.”

“Oh.” Emotion flits across her face. I’d like to believe it’s guilt, but after everything she’s done, I doubt it.

“Well…I’m sure Roland pissed someone else off.

Of course he wants to blame me for it. Anyway.

I also wanted to tell you that I’m going to be traveling through an area with some spotty reception.

So you probably won’t hear from me for another couple of weeks. Maybe three. ”

As if that would be any different from her usual calling schedule.

“Okay,” I say, ready to end the conversation. “I’ll tell Ollie.”

She smiles. “And I’m going to send some photos from this koala sanctuary I went to. He’ll love them. I got him a stuffie too, even though it takes up a lot of space in my bag.”

My rage spikes, and I want to tell her to go fuck herself or say something about koalas having chlamydia, so hey, they have something in common with her, because she gave it to me eight years ago…

Instead, I smile, squeezing the phone, and say tightly, “Great. Have a nice trip.”

Then I hang up and throw the phone so hard it bounces off the rug and slams into the wooden flooring beyond it, probably spiderwebbing the screen. I run my hands through my hair, dark emotion pounding through me.

A warm hand descends on my shoulder, squeezing, and I smell her. My animal side recognizes Hannah. The beast in me feels desperate to pin her to the wall and claim her. To sink my emotions into something that feels good.

“I’ve tried not to hate her,” I say in a low, thick voice. “But I fucking hate her. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her, but I wish she’d never come back.”

“Go play for a few minutes,” she says softly, her hand massaging my shoulder. “Get some of it out.”

“I’ll wake him up if I do that.”

“If he wakes up, I’ll put him back to bed. Go play.”

I suck in a deep breath full of her scent and then let it out slowly, hissing like a punctured tire. “Thank you.”

Then I head into the music room, and I play, hitting harder than I should, letting all of my anger stream into music—not one of our Garbage Fire songs, but a long freestyle solo that says what I’m feeling.

The anger. The shame. The feeling of being so lost, I don’t even know what map I should be looking for.

The deep well of need that’s a black hole inside of me.

When I finish, my hands hurt, and I look up to find her standing in the open doorway, her lips parted. I don’t know how long she’s been there.

I set my sticks down. “Hannah,” I say in a low voice. “I’m not trying to be a dick right now, but you should probably leave. I’m struggling tonight.”

She steps into the room. “I thought we were almost friends. Friends help each other.”

I rise from my chair and take a step back, feeling too big for the space suddenly.

“Right now, I’m not interested in being your friend, or being professional.

I want…” Damn. How do I say this without making it awkward?

I guess there’s no way. “I want things I have no business wanting, and it would be better if you just left until I regain control over myself.”

“You want to fuck me?” She sounds almost surprised by it, which is a joke, because I assume most men want her, although I might be the only one who’s made a practice of counting her freckles.

“Can’t you tell?”

“I didn’t think I was your type,” she says, putting a hand on her hip. “I don’t look anything like Lilah.”

“Thank God.”

She smiles but adds, “Lilah’s gorgeous.”

“So are you,” I say, frustrated, not wanting to hear their names in the same sentence or even the same paragraph.

“Look, Lilah’s the one who pursued me in the beginning, not the other way around.

I got caught up in the current, but she wasn’t what I wanted.

I’m working through some things right now, and I’m not in a position to date anyone.

But, yeah, I’m attracted to you. Very attracted.

And it’s been…” I pull my hair, hoping the pain will give me the jolt I need.

“It’s been a wh ile since I’ve been with anyone, so it’s getting harder to ignore it. ”

She pads farther into the room, wearing that shirt that’s mine, her pupils dilated. Her curls sway as if they’re dancing. “So you’ve wondered what it would feel like between us?”

She says it as if it’s been a casual thing for me, no different from wondering about the weather, or what the specials are at a favorite restaurant.

“ Yes ,” I admit, my voice practically shaking. “But you should go. This is a line we can’t cross.”

But even as I’m telling her to go, I take a few steps toward her. I stop in front of her, wanting her to walk away. Also wanting her to reach for me.

“Probably not.” She tips up slightly on her toes, bringing her lips closer, more kissable. So tempting I feel myself leaning in just the slightest bit more, my body vetoing my brain.

“I’ve wondered too,” she says. “I love watching you play. You put your whole body into it. It’s…fascinating.”

My dick is rock-hard, and I’m struggling to hang on to sanity. “We can’t.”

“But don’t you think we should at least know what we’re missing?”

That’ll only make it worse, so much worse. But playing didn’t release all of the emotions boiling inside of me. Most of the rage Lilah awakened has slipped away, but not the need.

“Maybe just one kiss,” I say, my voice hoarse.

“Only one,” she agrees.

“A French kiss?” I ask, surprised I still have the capacity to make a joke.

She laughs in surprise, and that’s the moment I lower my mouth the rest of the way to hers, my whole body thrumming with the strength of my desire for her. My mouth brushes against hers, tentatively at first. Then she parts her lips to welcome me in, and it’s like something else takes over.

Our mouths move together, clashing almost violently, all tongues and teeth and desire. The next second I’m backing her into the wall of the music room. She tastes like wild honey, and even though it feels like there’s a risk of being stung, I can’t get enough.

My need for her eclipses everything.

It sure as hell eclipses what’s left of my sense.

So much for the single sip of sin we promised ourselves.

All I can think about is getting closer, getting more.

I lift her up so I have better access, and she wraps her legs around my waist, her thighs surprisingly strong, which has me pulling her closer.

Taking more of her. She buries her hand in my hair, pulling, and kisses me as fiercely as I’m kissing her.

I break away, but only so I can kiss down the side of her jaw and neck, which tastes of sugar from the soda. A sigh eases out of me as she grips my hair tightly.

I push closer, and she’s got to feel my dick as she presses into me with a breathy little sound that I swallow. I want that sound to be mine. In that moment, I want everything about her to be mine.

Then I hear a shaky little voice out in the hallway, audible because we didn’t even close the door all the way.

“ Hannah? Travis? ”

I jerk back reflexively and set Hannah down on her feet. What in the ever-loving hell am I doing?

Hannah is here for Ollie. She’s the only one who has the slightest clue what she’s doing with him, even if her methods are unconventional. I can’t take one more thing away from my son, not when he has a mother who thinks the only thing he needs from her is a dumb souvenir .

My horror must be written on my face, because Hannah gently traces her fingers down my cheek, mouthing, It’s okay.

It’s not, but I appreciate the sentiment.

She brushes her fingers through my hair, fixing it, and calls out, “Ollie, we’re here in the music room. I was just listening to your dad practice before I head home.”

She collects herself well enough to swing the door wide. Ollie’s standing quietly in the hall, so small my heart breaks at the sight of him. His hair is mussed from sleep, and he’s wearing pajamas with penguins on them.

“I couldn’t find anyone,” he says, his voice hitching. “I thought you were gone.”

I’m shocked that he says this while looking at me. He was worried I was gone—that I’d left him like they did.

Emotion clogs my throat as I span the distance between us. “I will never willingly leave you,” I say, stooping to hug him. “You’re stuck with me.”

To my surprise, he hugs me back. The backs of my eyes heat as I pull back enough to meet his gaze. “Hannah told me about your iPad.”

He gives her a look of such complete betrayal, I can only laugh.

She lifts her hands, palms out, in the universal I come in peace gesture. “Your dad’s like the grand inquisitor. I didn’t have any hope of holding out.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he says gruffly, his bottom lip pushed out, “but I’m mad at you.”

“It’s okay,” I say, smoothing his hair. “I wish you’d told me directly, but if you want this gaming thing, or whatever, I’ll get it for you. Me. You don’t need to depend on that guy for anything. I don’t want you to.”

He looks up at me in surprise. “But you said screens aren’t good for me. ”

“There will be limits, obviously. But I want you to be happy here, Ollie. I want you here.”

He studies me for a long moment, his brow furrowing. “Travis, did you open the glitter bomb?”

His gaze darts to Hannah.

“Did he—” He pauses, staring at her with narrowed eyes. “Why are you covered in glitter too? And you’re wearing Travis’s garbage shirt.”

It’s not really funny, but I’ll be damned if I don’t laugh.