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That little kernel of truth had her waving toward the couch. “Have a seat.”

He sat down on the sofa, his large frame dwarfing it. “Listen,” he said. “I think kids are fun. I want kids of my own someday, and I’m getting closer to that phase in my life. I’d really like it if you gave me a chance.”

Mel narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure how I feel about a male nanny. Are you single?”

“No. I’m . . . hopefully, I’m going to be engaged by the end of the year.”

He tapped the knee of his jeans, so nonchalant like there was nothing weird about him—this guy—sitting there in her living room. Mel had no idea what to think. Was he stalking her? Was this one giant coincidence? And though she fully believed in equal rights for both men and women, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the prospect of a male nanny. Wrong or not, she couldn’t help it. In this day and age, you couldn’t be too careful, and men were statistically more likely to be a lot of things—serial killers, child predators, perverts, abusers. The list went on.

But still, he didn’t have a pink mohawk or hardware pinned though any of his visible orifices. He also didn’t strike her as the type to use waterboarding as a means of punishment. All things considered, besides being insanely attractive, he seemed relatively normal.

“So, you like kids. Lots of people like kids. Are you out of work? Why do you want a job as a nanny? The work is hard, and the pay is crap.”

He laughed at her candidness, then paused.

He bit his lip, and in that split second of hesitation, Mel sensed he was hiding something. After a moment, he sighed and leaned forward, forearms resting on his jeans. “You want the truth?”

“Always.”

“In your ad, you mentioned this was a temporary position, right?”

Mel nodded. “Right. It’s a long story, but one of my kids had a few accidents at his childcare center and got booted. There’s supposed to be an opening coming up in a little over a month.”

“He had one accident and they kicked him out?”

Mel bit the inside of her cheek. “Several accidents.” Then after a second, added, “At several places, and good childcare centers are hard to come by, so we just need to bide our time, fix the little problem, and re-enroll once they have room for us.” Calling it a “little problem” was an understatement. Mel had hoped the shock of being thrown into daycare fulltime would ease over time, but no such luck. Even being back at home with a nanny hadn’t proven to help.

Blake eyed her warily, then said, “Well, temporary is what I need.”

“Go on,” Mel said.

“My girlfriends’ parents are . . . particular,” he said, and Mel could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I come from a very different background from them. If I’m to get their blessing and propose to their daughter, they suggested I needed to prove I can be a good father, a family man.”

Mel’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nodded, and his jaw tightened.

Wow. This guy was for real.

Mel snorted. “It’s the twenty-first century. Why do you need their blessing anyway?”

“They’re a traditional family with old values.”

Mel grunted. “How long is temporary for you?”

“A month.”

Mel pursed her lips, and he must’ve sensed her hesitation because he reached out as if to grab her hand, then thought better of it and dropped his hands between his bent legs. “Please. I really need this. I can work for really cheap. I don’t need the money since I have my own business. But I need this if I’m to propose come summer, which is the plan, so—”

“I need six weeks.”

“Done.”

“If I’m satisfied with the answers to my other questions,” she added.

His eyes lit up, and to his credit, he answered all of the questions she flung at him over the next fifteen minutes and passed with flying colors. “Okay, now for the logistics. You’ve seen my kids. They’re maniacs.”

Blake chortled. “They certainly look like a handful. Are all three yours? I was kind of hoping that was a playdate gone wrong.”

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