It was alarming.
And honestly, I needed to get a grip before my inner fangirl let loose an ear piercing scream that would match the rest of the noise coming from upstairs.
“Thank you so much.” Trevor took off his tiara. “For starting so soon. I’m swamped and since their mom left—” He cut himself off, but something indefinable flickered in his eyes. “It’s just… been a big adjustment for us.”
My chest cracked a bit. “Has she been gone long?”
“Gone,” he repeated and then smiled. “Gone makes it sound like she’s missing or that maybe she didn’t choose to leave. She’s called twice in the past year since she left, sends the kids presents on all their birthdays, and for the holidays flew in for twenty-four hours before jet setting back to Brazil or wherever the hell her current boy toy is. She left. And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for doing that to our family.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted, feeling horrible. “It’s none of my business. I feel horrible, I’m—”
“Honestly, I thought you probably knew. The rest of the world does.” His eyes locked onto mine.
“Well, here’s a moment of truth—I don’t read celebrity gossip and have been living in Montana for the last few years of my life, where the local gossip is even dirtier than Hollywood.”
“Oh?” He crossed his bulky arms.
“Yeah, I mean we once had this horse escape…” I grinned and bit down on my bottom lip, trying like hell not to look at the complete package of perfection in front of me as he waited forme to continue. “Since you were honest, I guess it’s my turn. I came here for a fresh start. My cousin Dani’s married to Lincoln Greene.”
“Ahhhhhhh.” Trevor snapped his fingers. “I love Lincoln, he’s one of the good ones.”
“He’s the best, they both are. It was their idea, and here I am.”
“Huh.” Trevor seemed to mull that over a bit before another yell came from upstairs. A basketball was thrown over the railing; it bounced behind him while he looked up and bit back a curse. “I apologize in advance. Just remember, I’m paying you well.”
“I love kids so it won’t be a problem.” What was I saying? I loved kids, yes, but not ones who were hurting and who lashed out and yelled and cried, and crap I was in over my head, totally in over my head. Back when I was a teacher we had school counselors for this sort of thing, I knew how to teach them things, to engage, but the sadness factor or even the anger, I wasn’t so sure about.
“Well, just in case…” He grabbed a piece of paper from the kitchen table. “You have my personal cell number, and if you sign here we’ll be in business.”
“NDA?” I guessed.
He gave me a funny look. “Well, yeah, but it’s more or less a contract in writing that states you won’t sell pictures of my kids on the internet.”
I gaped. “People do that?”
“You’d be surprised what people would do for money,” was all he said as he handed me a pen.
I scribbled my name across the dotted line and handed the pen back to him, his fingers warm as they grazed my skin.
I felt that touch more than a nanny should.
This was going to be a problem.
The awareness I had of him.
The way I couldn’t stop looking at him.
And the way he seemed to be doing the same to me.
“So.” I rocked back on my heels. “I’m going to assume by the ketchup on your shirt that they’ve had lunch and that now we’re doing play time. Do they take naps?”
“They have quiet time at three, and a lot of times all three of them crash.”
“Great!” A sleeping kid was a healthy kid. And it would give me time to clean up the train wreck that had exploded around his house. “And you’ll be home at?”
“Six.” He blinked his gorgeous eyes at me. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what else to say.”
“No problem.” I grinned. “Maybe change your shirt before heading out, though? We don’t want people thinking you murdered someone just because they see a flash of red ketchup.”
