Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(103)

“Yeah, of course,” I say as Brooke takes in a deep breath and glances over at the couch. I think we both remember all the things we did there last night. Despite logging all that naughty time, I'm still not feeling my usual deflated interest, my need to move on. There's nothing here but want and need in my chest, this super creepy man-hormone thing that makes me want to piss in a circle around Brooke.

Bet that would go over well, huh?

“I'll pick the kids up and bring Bella and Grace over here after. Then I'll have to book it to get to the airport on time to pick Rob and Mercedes up. Do you have someone to watch the girls that night?”

“Not really,” Brooke whispers, her voice harsh and low. She does a good job of trying to hide her emotions, but her eyes … that beautiful brown color is practically transparent. I can see right through her, straight down to her heart. I feel like it's beating for me, but then I wonder if that's just my crazy hormone shit turning fantasies for me.

Deep breath, Zay. Deep fucking breath.

“Well, you do now because I called your Aunt Monica up and got her to agree to watch the girls. I told her you had a waitressing job at the brewery. She didn't ask which one.”

Brooke nods and then starts toward the stairs.

I stop her with a hand on the wrist, freezing her in the exact spot that we fucked, her back against the wall, her lingerie covered in my cum.

Jesus.

She doesn't know the plan I've cooked up for tonight, but maybe that would wipe the frown from her face? I wrap my fingers tight around Brooke's wrist and smile at her.

“It's gonna be okay,” I tell her. “You'll get through this.”

“Um,” she starts, glancing down at my hand on her skin. When she looks back up at me, her face looks exactly like it did when we first met and she told me to get out and go home. “Can you let go of me now?”

I release her with a raised brow and watch as Brooke retreats up the stairs. She doesn't come out for some time, leaving me to bounce on the trampoline with the brats yet again. Doesn't even matter that it's raining. I can't seem to corral the little monsters.

When Brooke finally does make an appearance, the sky is dark and she's wearing her trench coat again.

“I'm off to work. I'll see you all in the morning,” she says, giving the kids—and me—a bright smile. I smile back at her and give a little wave, sneaking over to the curtains and peeking outside to watch her pull down the driveway and zoom off down the street.

Brooke's aunt should be here any minute and then I am outtie, off to the Top Hat Club for a little show. I hope Brooke doesn't find it creepy, but I just really want to see her dance. Hell, I just really want to see her. No sense spending our last night apart, right?

I get the brats hooked up on the YouTube app and then—then I turn my ass right back around and activate those parental controls because damn, what were they just watching? Was that … a porno?

“Those naked people were licking each other's privates,” Kinzie announces as I groan and find some kitten videos for them to watch.

“Be good,” I say as I bounce up the stairs and into Brooke's room to change. Can't go looking like a complete loser, right? Snot and blood all over my shirt is not exactly what I'd call sexy.

I put on black slacks and dark purple Docs, a white button-up, and a black suit jacket covered in pins. I brought it with me in case Rob wanted to go out to a family dinner or some shit. He likes to do that, have formal dinners out. Before he married Mercedes, he used to come down to Vegas and take me out. But I don't do suits, not like a normal person anyway.

I leave the top few buttons undone to show off my tattoos, and slick up the left side of my hair. The right gets a fresh shave and some spray on color to turn it purple. Yeah. It looks totally fucking sick.

I shove the arms of the suit jacket up and stack my arms with bracelets before heading down the stairs to find the children engrossed in a PewDiePie video. Gross.

The knock at the door doesn't even draw their attention—just a horde of barking chihuahuas and one ugly gray rat dog.

“You kids behave, okay?” I say as I open the door and use my boot to sweep miniature dogs aside. “Come on in.”

Monica squeezes past me, putting as much space between us as is humanly possible. Tonight she's wearing more reasonable looking clothes, like she learned her lesson last time. Jeans and a t-shirt will help with these kids a hell of a lot more than a designer dress or a pantsuit.

“Have no idea what time I'll be back,” I say before the woman gets out a single word. This Monica chick, I know her type. You start letting a person like this talk and they won't stop. Best to just smooth my agenda right on through without any commentary. “Make sure the little shits are in bed by nine.” I cup my hands around my mouth. “Love y'all! Later!”