AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was telling the truth. Brady could be fooled, but Rogan knew he couldn’t get a lie past me.
“Go on,” Rogan insisted. “Let me have it. I deserve it.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “You told us Heather was off-limits, then you broke your rule. It’s not like you to put your own selfish desires above the group.”
“I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Perhaps Brady wanted to make a pass at her, but held off,” I said.
Rogan examined me for a long while. “Brady, or you?”
“Either of us,” I said, deflecting the accusation.
“Make a move on her if you want,” Rogan said. “She’s her own woman. I don’t own her.”
“That won’t make you jealous?”
“I don’t know. It might. But it’s only fair.” Rogan ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, by the way. She’s moving in tonight.”
I nodded. “I suspected she would. It’s the only way to keep Brady from spoiling the boys while she’s gone.”
Rogan stared intently at me. “Doing it at the hotel is one thing. Doing it here is another. If you don’t want us fooling around at the residence, then I’ll understand. Just say the word.”
“You don’t need my approval,” I said. “You’re an adult, and so is she. I don’t care what you do.” I swiveled back toward my screens.
“Are you sure?” Rogan asked.
“As long as it doesn’t blow up in your face and affect the children. If we need to find a new nanny next month because you broke her heart, then I will be upset.”
Rogan chuckled. “I don’t think I have to worry about breaking her heart. Heather’s a strong woman.”
She is, I thought while returning to my work.
*
That evening, Rogan drove Heather back to the hotel to retrieve her belongings. I expected them to be gone a while—to enjoy one last night of fun—but they returned so soon that I was still in the kitchen cooking dinner. They must not have done anything.
“I’m heading out to Amirah’s,” Rogan told me after carrying Heather’s suitcases to her room. “Text me if you need anything.”
Glad to know he’s prioritizing work over play.
“I forwarded her social media feed to your phone,” I told him while stirring tomato sauce on the stove. “Keep an eye out for anything coded orange or above.”
Rogan gave Heather a hug goodbye—justa hug, I noticed—and then left.
“Code orange?” Heather asked me.
“Severity levels of different social media threats. We filter out the lower threats based on perceived chance of occurring.”
Heather came up behind me and learned close to the pot of sauce. Her fragrance cut through the spice and garlic, activating part of my brain.
“Smells great,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It does.”
Dinner was more pleasant with Heather at the table. She was a persistent force affecting the boys, causing them to mind their manners just alittle bitmore than usual.
“I like it when Miss Heather is here,” Cora chirped up when we cleaned the table. “I hope she stays here more often.”
