Page 6 of Cowboy Daddies

Chapter Three

Grady stood at the kitchen counter, pouring his second cup of coffee, wondering what the hell can of worms he’d opened by letting Sage stay. Lord help him, he was only two weeks into her being there and already regretting it.

Do you regret her being here or regret that she’s still sleeping on the other side of the house?

Yeah, that was his cock talking. And, yes, his cock could be a real bastard. He was man enough to admit it wasn’t because he didn’t want her. It was because he was starting to want her there too much.

She was only supposed to be there for the summer. And why did that make his heart clench? He couldn’t forget this wasn’t about forever. Sage was leaving at the end of the summer. Unless, of course, she quit before that. All the other nanny wannabes had.

Still, he hadn’t been sorry to see the back of them. None of them had connected with Rose. He also had the feeling all the others had been scared of him. He raised the cup to his lips. Why they would possibly feel that way was a mystery to him. And then there was Sage. She sure as hell wasn’t scared of him. And damn if that didn’t warm something in his chest that had been cold for a long time.

Sage was still here, brash as ever. He was beginning to think the question wasn’t if she would leave. He knew the answer to that one. No, the real question was how much of his heart would she take when she left. And Rose… how would that affect her?

She’d taken to Sage with a fierceness he hadn’t thought possible. She sure as hell hadn’t taken a shine to any of the other nannies. But that wasn’t true about Sage. His daughter was growing more and more attached to this new nanny every day. Not that he blamed her. Sage was amazing.

Rose wasn’t talking yet, but she was blossoming in ways that he hadn’t let himself hope for. And now that was what worried him. After all the pain she’d been through, how could he open his daughter’s heart to that kind of hurt again? They’d both endured enough heartache to last a lifetime.

Still, the squeals of joy and laughter coming from the family room made him smile. Right now, he needed to see to it that everyone got breakfast. He reached into the refrigerator for the carton of eggs, stopped, and stared.

What in the hell is that?

A horde of tiny egg-shaped aliens with large, googly eyes stared back at him like a dozen tiny, ridiculous judges. This was neither useful nor orderly. But was he angry? No.

His first reaction was the thrill of having an excuse to spank one naughty redhead. And that was a problem. He looked at the eggs again and barely held back a grin. His kitchen had officially been invaded by one mischievous Little wildfire.

Rose entered the room, sleepy-eyed and shuffling her feet. She glanced up at him and tugged on the leg of his jeans. Since her mother, his Tricia, had died, Rose had developed this system of gestures and expressions. And damn if that didn’t make his heart break.

But at least he’d come to understand her. Right now, she wanted to know what he was staring at in the fridge. It was a good question. He lifted her up and pointed at the eggs. “I think our new nanny has been decoratin’ our eggs,” he said.

For half a second, he thought his daughter might speak. He held his breath, waiting for a breakthrough, but she didn’t make a sound. She did giggle a little, then just patted his arm in solidarity and wiggled to get down.

Before shuffling to the living room, she pointed up at his cup and grinned. With a sigh, he turned the other side of his cup to face him. Sure enough, one lone googly eye was stuck dead center on his favorite mug.

Yep, he’d hired one naughty Little nanny. His palm itched something fierce. Barely suppressing the need to yell out Sage’s name, he closed the fridge slowly.

An energy had buzzed through the house every morning for the past four days. Before Tricia died, he’d loved the silence. After she died, he’d hated it. Maybe that’s why he’d been feeling more cheerful lately. At least for as long as Rose’s naughty nanny was with them, that sad silence was driven out.

From the other room, he heard Sage greeting Rose. “Good morning, sweetness. Did you sleep well?”

“That woman’s gonna blaze through our lives like a damn wildfire,” he muttered under his breath. But fuck if part of him didn’t long for it.

He carried his mug, googly eye still attached, into the living room. Sage sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Rose, animatedly reading from the dragon book again. Rose was actively engaged, once again a tiny smile on her face.

Sage looked up when he entered. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with pure mischief when she saw the mug in his hand. “Let’s tell your dad good morning, Rose. What do you say?” Turning back to Grady, she sang, “Morning, Daddy,” batting her lashes.

Rose didn’t say anything but smiled and clapped.

Grady held the mug up. The googly eye wobbled. Wait, what had she said? The pulse of his cock was all he needed to remind him. Even as a joke, hearing the word Daddy on her lips did dangerous things to his libido.

Before he could answer, Sage tilted her head, studying his face with open curiosity. “Wow,” she said, voice softer now, almost breathless. “Your eyes are the darkest green I’ve ever seen. They’re like a tall, dark pine at night. I hadn’t noticed before. Must have been too busy trying not to get fired.”

His heart swelled at her words, his wife had complimented him on his eyes all the time. For a moment, he forgot about the ridiculous mug in his hand.

Sage’s cheeks turned a bright pink, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her grin returned. “Your eyes are kinda pretty when you’re not pretending to be so mean,” she added, clearly enjoying herself. “Makes it harder to be scared of you.”

Oh, did it now? His palm seemed to be in a perpetual state of itching whenever she was around. Grip tightening on his mug, he took one slow step closer, voice low and rough. “I don’t pretend to be mean. I am mean.”

She grinned. “If you say so.”