“They teach you to dance or did you just shake your shit?” Zay asks with a smile that clearly says his words are a joke. I take a tentative bite of my sandwich and chew it carefully. Perfect jelly to peanut butter ratio. Nice.
“Believe it or not, when I lived in So Cal, my friends thought it'd be hot to take pole dancing classes.” I shrug my shoulders. “Guess it's coming in handy.”
“Oooh. Well, I'd pay to see that.” He winks at me and grabs a sandwich, shoving half of it in his mouth before he starts chewing. One more bite and that sucker's gone completely. I nibble at mine as he drains the entire glass of milk in one go. “So … it went well then?”
“It went okay. I would never want my nieces to have to go through anything like this, but yeah. It was fine. I can do this—for a little while anyway.” I keep chewing on my sandwich as Zay taps his fingers in time to the shitty pop music that's playing. I guess we're not going to mention the sex which is good because I have no idea how to bring it up or if I even should bring it up. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, not because I'm trying to be rude. I just don't get it. This guy, he doesn't owe me anything at all.
Zay tilts his head at me and then runs the fingers of his right hand over the shaved side of his head.
“Why wouldn't I be? You want me to act like a dick?”
“No, I was just curious.” Zayden shrugs and then laces his fingers together behind his head.
“I know girls say they like assholes and all that, but really, ya get more flies with honey, Miss Overland.” Another wicked slow smile and a wink. “I've never had any trouble getting women by being friendly, you know? But since we had sex this afternoon, I can be a prick if you want.”
I throw the last corner of my sandwich at him, but all it does is make him laugh. I figure it takes a lot to faze this guy.
“Can I see your work attire?” he asks me, eyes twinkling, leaning forward and peering at my tank and jeans with a burning expression that makes me squirm. “I mean, if I'm spending the night and you're spending the night and you did just let me take your virginity …”
“Are you … serious?” I ask, but I can't help the warm flush that takes over my body. I feel my thighs suddenly clenching tight and my breath fluttering with excitement. My turn to lean forward over the table. “You want to sleep together … again?”
“I don't even snore.” Zayden sits up and lifts two fingers in some kind of weird salute. “Swear to God. You can ask any of my ex-girlfriends.”
I stare at him across the table, and I have no clue what to say. This guy's in town for, what, another week or so? And he's my nanny. My unpaid nanny. But he really is hot and I'm eager to try all sorts of other things in the bedroom …
Before I can answer, the baby starts fussing and Zay gets up from the table, patting me on the head as he passes.
“Be right back,” he says as I lean forward and try to sneak a peek at him through the pass-through window into the dining area. I catch sight of Zay's dark head bending down and standing up with Sadie clutched to his chest. He moves away for a moment and I hear some rustling before he appears in the kitchen and flicks on the tap, a bottle clutched in his hand. “Guess somebody's into an early morning snack today.”
I stand up, my chair sliding across the kitchen floor as my heart pounds in my chest.
I want to have sex with Zayden again, but I'm not sure I can handle it right now.
“I'm completely worn-out,” I say as I take a few backwards steps towards the dining room/living room area. Zayden turns and watches me as I slink away, raising his brows at me. “You'll take the kids to school in the morning?”
“Nanny Zay to the rescue,” he says with a smile. I don't wait around to see what else he has to say, retreating into my new bedroom and closing the door … but not locking it.
I kind of hope he barges in again, like he did earlier.
He doesn't. But that doesn't keep me from dreaming about it.
This Brooke girl is tricksy, tricksy, tricksy. Like a fox.
I smile as I wrestle a screaming twin into his car seat. Even this many days in, I can't tell which one is which. Mercedes and Rob decided to name the boys Michael and Ike. Like they somehow missed the joke, right? Mike and Ike. Like the candies, those little colored chewy things? You know what I'm talking about.
“Listen up, candy cakes,” I tell Mike (or Ike), “we all have to grow up someday. Boy, this is your day.” The kid just screams as Kinzie and Bella whine and stick their fingers in their ears. The little blond one, Grace, is already asleep. “Sorry, bud, but you're going to preschool today if it kills me. Uncle Zay needs a fucking break.”