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His laughter boomed, forcing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight and make me nauseous. “It’s okay, really,” he choked through his fits of chuckles.
I covered myself immediately, standing straight to glare at him for even daring to look. “Fucking perv.”
“We’re even now,” he grinned, but even with the sun reflecting on his window, I could still see a tint of red on his cheeks. “And that freckle on your nipple is cute.”
“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you.”
His smile spread wider, and I turned, no longer wanting to look at him. It would be hard enough seeing him face to face in thirty minutes; I didn’t want another second ruined by his creeping stare. “I’ll see you in half an hour,” he said, and the call dropped.
————
It had never felt more important to cover myself up.
Knowing damn well I’d be on my hands and knees playing with a four-year-old for at least half the day, I went with my tried-and-tested black joggers, a tight-fitting tank top, and a loose, white knit cardigan that I assumed I’d need to take off if Jamey insisted on painting or something.
It also left everything to the imagination for when I had to see his father.
Sliding my slippers on, I grabbed my laptop from its spot on my workstation, making my way out the door and across our conjoined lawns. The sun was already blazing in the sky, warming up the day and chasing away the chill in the air from the night before. It wasn’t enough to calm the shaking of my hands, though.
Hudson opened the door before I could even approach, and I wondered if he had one of those fancy doorbells with the live video feed that alerted when someone was nearby. I did my best not to make eye contact as I shuffled past him and in through the open door, a timid Jamey hiding behind his father's legs.
“Jamey,” Hudson said softly, turning at the waist as he closed the door behind me. I watched every muscle in his abdomen ripple as he twisted, the tight white shirt doing little to hide what lay beneath. “This is Sophie. She’s going to watch you today.”
I set my laptop down on the entryway table and knelt down to his height, getting a good look at him. He looked so much like Hudson it was crazy. Same bright green eyes, same dark mop of hair on top of his head. It was a little lighter than Hudson’s, though, and I wondered if that came from his mom. He was absolutely adorable, and I felt that familiar, hungry ache break open just a little bit more in my chest. I wanted one like him.
“Hi, Jamey,” I grinned, holding out my hand for him to shake. He backed away a little. “I’m your neighbor. You’ve waved at me a few times, remember?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
“I know it’s a bit scary to meet new people.” I glanced up at Hudson, trying not to pay attention to how I was nearly at eye level with his hips and what sat between them. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be okay with it right away, alright? We can hang out when you feel comfortable. Until then, I’ll be around, just like your dad, keeping an eye on you.”
Jamey nodded as he buried his face into the back of his father’s scrubs.
I stood up straight, taking a solid first look around the massive house. The floor was a dark hardwood, polished to a shine, complimented by the varying grays on the walls. The kitchen, which sat at the back of the house, looked as though it was carved straight from marble—marble countertops, marble flooring, even the sink appeared to be marble. The room to my left was the one I’d seen Hudson in that morning, and I could hear children’s cartoons playing on the television in there. I found myself wondering what Hudson’s room looked like, and immediately wiped the thought from my memory. I’m not mixing these things together. I can’t.
“How about you go finish your cereal, okay bud? I’m just going to show Sophie around the house,” Hudson said, his large hand resting firmly on his son’s back.
Jamey’s eyes popped open as he looked up at his dad. “Don’t show her my room! I want to.”
I couldn’t keep myself from watching as Hudson’s smile grew, lighting up his annoyingly handsome face. He looked so much less intimidating when he was being a parent. Being happy.
“Okay, okay, I won’t show her your room,” he laughed. He ushered Jamey toward the room to our left, and Jamey left a solid chunk of space between him and me as he passed. I knew it would take him a little bit to open up to me—I was used to that, considering the string of babysitting jobs I’d done before starting my business. He was on the shy side, and I could definitely break through that with enough time.
Luckily, I had all day.
Hudson walked me from room to room on the ground floor of the house, from the kitchen to the living room, to the second living room, the piano room, the spare room, his office, the garage with his three fancy-ass cars. He showed me the laundry room and how it connected to the gym, which I’d assumed he didn’t have from how he’d been working out outside the day that I… no, do not think about that, Sophie.
He was incredibly professional when he needed to be, and I wondered if it was an act he was putting on because I was in his home, looking after his child for the day. I was an unknown nanny—he hadn’t even asked for any references, for Christ’s sake. He clearly wanted to make a good impression, and so did I.
“So, where do you keep the first aid kit? Just in case.”
Hudson turned to me, one foot on the first step of the staircase. The mask slipped, only for a second, and I caught a glance of something unreadable in his features. “It’s, uh, in my room. I’ll show you.”
I nodded wordlessly and followed him up to the equally large second floor. There was a huge open landing that overlooked the kitchen and second living room of the downstairs area, and surrounding it was a slew of doors. The one toward the end was larger than the rest, a grander double door, and I could only guess that was the master suite.
Hudson pushed the doors open, and holy hell, his room was massive. A large, black, four-poster bed sat in the middle of the far wall, the sheets barely messed up from when he’d gotten out of bed. The wall that faced his backyard was glass, two massive hanging curtains lining the edges, looking out over the expanse of his property and across the lake. From where I stood, I could almost see my own bedroom window through it.
Could he see into it from the corner of his room?
