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Can things even get more complicated?
I shouldn’t ask.
Because a second later, Sawyer looks over my shoulder at Willow, blinking several times before she drops an atomic bomb. “Hey, Dad...who’s she?”
5
Tiger’s Den (Willow)
I bite my bottom lip at the way Grady’s entire being quivers.
He’s trying to put on a brave face and hide it, but it’s too freaking late. The poor guy’s out of his element.
Head lice is no laughing matter, but it’s not the end of the world.
I had it once as a kid when my entire school came down with a bad case of creepy crawlies. Some rancid-smelling shampoo and a fine-toothed comb made quick work of it.
His daughters are adorable, though, and not quite identical like I expected. One’s a little taller, and they both have long dark hair, the same shade as his.
For some crazy reason, I keep glancing at the woman by the door, wondering who she is.
With short dark hair cut fashionably and lines around her eyes, the woman must be in her fifties. I can’t assume she’s a girlfriend unless Grady’s tastes run much older, but who knows.
Who cares.
I’m not here to wonder about the women in his life, right?
Especially when I’ve got a bashful little face staring at me over her father’s shoulder, blinking like she isn’t sure if I’m a ghost.
“Hey, Dad...who’s she?” the kid asks.
Delightful.
Grady lets go of his girls and slowly turns, staring at me with the same look a deer gives a rapidly approaching pickup truck.
Inwardly, I flinch, but I pull up a cheery smile for the girls and the strange woman staring at me.
“This is, uh—”
“Willow,” I prompt, when I’m sure he can’t remember my name in his panic.
“Yeah, Willow, she’s here for...” Grady clears his throat, his eyes searching mine.
Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got you covered.
“Saving your lives! From messes, I mean. I cleaned this whole floor of the house, but I wasn’t sure where to put your clothes,” I say, dredging up my best excuse.
I certainly can’t fess up to the fact that I’ve brought a flipping tiger onto their farm and I’m basically a fugitive at this point.
Pointing to the piles of clothes still on the coffee table, I smile again. “I wasn’t sure what belongs to you girls. Care to help a nanny out?”
“Nanny?” The twins say it simultaneously.
They stare at me, taking me in, then look at their father like they aren’t sure.
Oof.
Tough crowd.
Not that I can blame them.
I’d be doing the same thing if I was ten years old and dear old Dad brought a total stranger into the house without any warning.
“Hello, Willow,” the older woman cuts in. “I’m Joyce, a good friend of Grady’s. I’m so glad he finally listened and hired a nanny while Faye left town! Hope the head lice thing won’t scare you off. This is out of the ordinary. We all take good care of these two little angels. Lord knows he needs the help sometimes, right, papa bear?”
Nanny? Oh, God, I said it, didn’t I?
Now I’m the one who’s tongue-tied, and I’m also curious why he needs so much help.
Grady gives his friend a pained smile. “The day I turn down an extra pair of hands, you’re welcome to slap me upside the head, Joyce.”
“Well, your load’s already lighter. My hairdresser met me at my place and treated the girls as soon as I picked them up this morning. I left you enough shampoo in a bag on the porch for another round. You’re welcome.” Joyce beams another pearl-white smile around the room.
“You’re a rock star,” Grady tells her before turning back to me. “I put an ad online and Willow answered it yesterday. Lucky me. She was looking for quick work and I was desperate to clean the place up, so here we are. Getting along like two strays on catnip.”
He gives me a brown-eyed wink.
Holy crap.
I hold in a laugh, both amused and nervous as hell at his cheesy innuendo.
Sure, I have to go along with this. Don’t have a choice. But we’re really rolling with this nanny thing?
Wow.
This is going to take some serious acting, and I sucked at theater in high school.
Fortunately, I did have a string of nannies growing up.
“Nice to meet you, Joyce, and it’s no big deal. I’ve dealt with lice before,” I say, still smiling. At least that’s no lie. “I’ll give them both a thorough checkup and get their things in the washer right away.”
Then I notice two sets of big brown eyes still glued to me, thickly lashed just like their father’s.
I wave a hand.
“Hi. Sawyer and Avery, right? Nice to meet you,” I say, unsure which girl is which.
The shorter one, by less than half an inch, smiles softly and waves a few fingers back.
The taller one frowns and gives me a slight bashful nod when Grady gently taps her shoulder, as if prompting her.
