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As we walked toward the family room, Wes leaned close to me and whispered, “Shot of whiskey for me. Oh, and maybe a meat and cheese tray. I’m kind of hungry.”
I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for his humor, and said, “Get your own drink.”
He smirked at me as Annalise yelled from the other room, “Uncle Wes, watch this!”
By the time I returned to the family room, Tori had Benny in her arms and Annalise on her lap.
“Do you like tea parties?” Annalise asked Tori.
“Oh, they’re my favorite.”
“Really?” Annalise slid off of her lap. “We could have one right now!”
Tori got down on the floor with the kids, managing to tickle Benny and make silly faces at him, drink imaginary tea with Annalise and answer our questions about her experience with children all at the same time.
“Can you put just a little more milk in mine?” she asked Annalise, holding out her imaginary cup.
“Regular milk or chocolate?” Annalise asked in a serious tone.
“Chocolate, please,” Tori said. “And would you like one of these delicious cookies I made?” She held out an imaginary tray.
“Yes!” Annalise pretended to take one and nibble on it. “It’s delicious!”
An early childhood education major at a local college, Tori was exactly what we needed. She could work six hours a day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and evenings and weekends as needed. Plus, the kids already liked her.
“Have you ever had any traffic accidents or tickets?” Wes asked her, probably because she’d be driving the kids places on occasion.
“No. And I don’t drink or smoke or anything like that.”
“Okay, good.” Wes met my gaze across the room and said, “Hey, why don’t we step into the kitchen and find some actual cookies if we can?”
I followed him into the kitchen, and Wes gestured toward the corner of the room furthest from the family room. When we were both standing there, he whispered, “What do you think?”
“I like her.”
“Yeah, I think she’s really good with the kids. Would it be enough for you, since she can’t be here on Tuesdays and Thursdays? Because we can keep looking if you need someone full time.”
I shook my head. “She said she could do evenings on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I could work then.”
“You think we should hire her, then?”
“I do.”
“Great.” He took a step toward the family room, and I put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Hey,” I said.
Wes arched his brows and waited for me to continue. His forearm was warm and muscled, and it was the first time I’d touched any part of an attractive man in a long time, so I was distracted.
This was Weston Kirby. The guy who had made a lame comment about me liking wieners the first time we met. Who’d brought a date wearing a skintight tank top and stripper heels to Annalise’s first birthday party. And who’d told me a couple New Year’s Eves ago, while drunk, that his greatest wish for the year to come was that I’d get laid so the massive icicle wedged up my ass could melt a little.
He might be hot, with his chiseled face and blue eyes that landed him on magazine covers, but he was still Wes. Somehow, I had to ignore his looks and just spit out my concern.
“I, uh…you can’t, um…” I cleared my throat. “If we hire Tori, you can’t, you know…”
He narrowed his eyes in a look of complete aggravation.
“Hadley, I’m getting really sick of these comments about me trying to jump into bed with every woman I see.”
I tried to whisper but it came out louder than I wanted, “She’s not just any woman. She’s about to become our very attractive, nineteen-year-old nanny. There are entire websites devoted to the seduction of nannies.”
He furrowed his brow and whispered back, albeit harshly. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, but it sounds like someone’s got quite the porn habit.”
“Why are you such an asshole?” I asked, groaning.
“Why are you such a shrew?”
“Just give me your word you won’t lay a hand on her. The kids have lost so much already, and if they get close to her—”
Wes took a step toward me, and I could feel the heat of his body. “Fine, but you have to promise me you won’t try to bone the gardener.”
I scoffed. “Bob is like fifty years old, Wes.”
“So what? He’s got a dick and when a woman hasn’t had any for, in your case, I’m guessing years, she might just jump on the closest man she can find.”
“You’re being absurd.”
“And you’re not? I’m a twenty-nine-year-old man, Hadley. It’s been about a decade since I had any sort of romantic interest in a teenager. Stop insulting me because you assume I’m the worst kind of man. You don’t know me.”
I put my hands on my hips and said, “If it’s a given you’ll keep the relationship entirely professional, you shouldn’t have any problem giving me your word.”
