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She slaps a hand against her forehead. “I slept here all night? Oh, geez. I’m so sorry.”
I swirl the steamed milk around in the frother and tap the container twice on the counter to get the foam to settle on top. Then I pour milk into the espresso and top it with a dollop of foam.
Ruby takes it from me wordlessly and sips it, a quiet groan of approval escaping her lips. I drop a second pod into the machine and make myself a matching cup. I watch the brown liquid pour into the cup because it keeps me from staring at her messy hair and imagining my hands combing through it.
“You don’t need to apologize for being tired. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”
She tips the mug back for another sip, which leaves a faint mustache of foam on her lip. I’m dying to reach over and wipe it off, but I just stare, fantasizing about licking it off instead.
Apparently, I’m not at all subtle about where I’m staring because she licks her bottom lip and wipes her upper one with one finger. Then she licks the foam from that, either completely oblivious to the effect she has on me or completely aware. Is she toying with me?
“You okay?” she asks.
I grunt and clear my throat.
“Thank you for the coffee, by the way. Should have said that before, but I was too busy inhaling the whole cup.” She shows me the now-drained ceramic cup.
“I can make you another.”
“Nope, I’m good. But I…” Shucking off the sherpa blanket, she stares down at her black pants and lace-trimmed tank top. “I can’t wear this to work again today, and I don’t have time to go home. Showing up in yesterday’s clothes isn’t a good look for the nanny.”
“I can ask one of my sisters for something to wear. You’re a little smaller than them, but I’m sure one of them has something that will fit.”
Her jaw drops open. “Yes, let’s invite more people into this walk of shame.”
My mind immediately goes to an image of Ruby walking out of my house wearing one of my button-up shirts like a dress and a pair of stilettos. Then my dick swells in my pants because I’ve truly lost my grip on reality.
“Sorry. You could run over to Duck Feather when it opens. I know they have a gift shop.”
She laughs. “Yeah, that’ll work. I hit that place up the day I showed up for my interview in a flimsy top and booty shorts. Your reaction was priceless, by the way.”
I’d been meaning to talk about that. In the month since she’s worked here, we’ve talked about so many things, but never that. “Can I apologize for that a month too late?”
Ruby folds up the blanket and lays it on a corner of the couch. “Never too late for an apology. But it’s fine.” She checks her phone for the time. “Actually, I can make a quick run home and back. All good.”
Glancing around the room, she spots her sweater and pulls it on. My brain starts firing disjointed thoughts, all of them telling me to remove the sweater because she looks so damn good in the tank top.
But then…she works for me. And Fiona loves her. For the first time in two years, I’m getting enough sleep that I can actually see straight.
The last thing I should be doing is putting our nanny in the position of having to turn me down and report to work the next day. I’ve had enough sexual harassment training to know I should stay focused on my job and not on my employee.
Buttoning the sweater halfway, she stifles a yawn. “Thanks for letting me crash here, even if I didn’t know I was planning to do it.”
“Of course. It was the least I could do. Really, Ginger, you’re the reason I’m not losing my shit every day of the week. You’re keeping everything running around here, and I’m grateful.”
She runs a hand through her hair, causing long pieces to fall in front of her face, but not before I catch sight of a shy smile. “You got it.”
As she goes for the door, I debate whether to propose what I’m thinking. “Listen, I have an idea.” I shift from one foot to the other, giving myself a last-ditch hope of coming up with something better. I fail.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I-I think you should move onto the property. We have some cottages near the hotel for staff who work nights, and they’re not all being used. At least, I don’t think they are. I need to run to my office and look at the spreadsheets, but I believe we have space.”
She looks confused. “You want me to live…here?”
I nod. I do want that. More than she knows. But I try to make it sound casual. “It just makes sense. It saves you more than two hours in the car each day, and you can use that time to poke around the wine cave and shadow our sommelier here if you want. Seems like a win-win.”
“Only I’m the only one winning. I don’t want to feel like you’re just giving me money. I won’t take your charity. What do you get out of it?”
