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  “That would be perfect,” Maggie breathes. “You need a nanny, and I need a boss. Let’s do it.”

  My lip quirks, but I let the smile fade. I don’t like her. She’s just the nanny for the week, and I flourish yet another little plastic cup. For some employees, this is the final test.

  “Perfect,” I say. “All I need now is some urine in this cup for the drug test, and your social security number or a license for the background check.”

  Chapter 3

  Sofia

  “One applicant got a breakup text from her boyfriend while she was in the interview,” Lucas says, grinning and exposing his dimples. He shakes his head. “She kept trying to finish the interview, even though I told her she could leave, and her phone would buzz, and she’d cry a little and then go back to talking about her year abroad. Then she remembers that they met the same year—”

  I sip from my second cup of coffee, subtly watching Lucas from beneath my lashes. He’s cute. I’m not sure how old he is, but his skin is firm and bright, in spite of those silver threads woven into the thick, dark hair lining his forehead. It’s his eyes that look old. The broad expanse of his chest tells me that, even if he’s deep into his forties, he still looks damn fine naked. Not that I care. Not that I’m going to see him naked.

  Not that I’m cared for and precious in this plaid flannel shirt.

  But I had to learn his name by glancing down at some mail on the kitchen counter. There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull this off long-term, but hell, all I need is a little cash and a place to spend the night. And all he needs is someone trustworthy to watch his kids this week. We’re a match made in heaven, if heaven is a place that can only last a week at best.

  “And you saw Fig, right?” Lucas wonders, his espresso eyes gleaming with amusement. They fix on me and I lean and start to glow.

  “The hippie?”

  “She clarified that she did not want me quote, sniffing around her door, unquote.”

  I giggle against the warm coffee touching my lips and then drink. My pants have dried, and I’m so warm and so safe. I don’t want to leave. But this is temporary. Very temporary. “I guess we’ve all got our skeletons,” I whisper, wondering about that background check.

  “Ah, you’re right about that,” Lucas replies.

  “Daddy,” a small voice pipes up from near the kitchen entrance, and both our eyes are drawn from each other and over to a tiny, chocolate-haired girl with large dark eyes. “There’s a girl in your shirt,” she says, shuffling forward in bare feet and juice-stained pink jammies.

  “Hi.” I stretch my hand out to shake hers. “I’m So... so Maggie,” I recover. “And you must be very Madison.” Nailed it.

  “I am very Maddy,” the little girl agrees brightly, instantly won over by the wordplay. “Are you the manny?”

  “Not since I last checked,” I say, eyes flitting to Lucas to share in the joke with him. But his eyes are already boring into me, absorbing me while I talk, and looking at him only makes his eyes dart away.

  I blush and turn my gaze to Maddy again. “I’m the new nanny.” But not for long.

  Lucas sets Maddy up with a healthy post-nap snack.

  “And where is Charlie?” I ask, thinking of the ten-year-old son he mentioned.

  “Probably locked in the bathroom,” Lucas muses. “Maddy is easy. She’s crazy, but she’s nice. Charlie might be the oldest, but he’s going to be tough. It’s been a hard year on him. The divorce, the move. All of it.”

  The divorce. The move. “What happened?”

  Lucas looks at me and hesitates, as if he might consider telling me. Then he grimaces and shakes his head. “Long story short, I needed to get out of the city and focus on my kids.” He winces a little. His kids are a sore subject for him, I guess. “But work is suffering. I can’t keep things on hold any longer.”

  “Oh? What do you do?”

  The question seems innocent enough to me, but Lucas’s eyes flash with suspicion. “I would think that Rachel told you that much,” he says.

  “Right!” I laugh, maybe a little too loud, and smack my forehead with my palm. “I was just making conversation. I remember now.”

  He nods, though his mouth is still hardened. “It’s fine. You will never need to worry about doing anything for Graytech. I know that isn’t your job. That’s Rachel’s job,” he adds with a charming smile, and the bubble of anxiety in my throat finally clears. “Have you been in Fallaway Peak for long?”

  “Just started looking for work,” I say, trying to keep my answers as tight and light as possible. No more room for mistakes. “I love the house. It’s so big for homes in this area.” I’m trying to sound like I know Fallaway Peak. In all truth, this cabin would be big in any city.

  “My brother and I built it ourselves,” Lucas says, glowing. “That’s James, by the way. My brother. I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

  “Great. Would it—maybe this is crazy, but—would it be OK if I stayed here tonight, instead of coming over in the morning? I prefer to hit the ground running.” True on so many levels.

  “I know you said your car is out of commission,” Lucas says. “Can I drive you home to get a change of clothes?”

  “Oh, no.” I flick a curly blond lock off my forehead, as if this is such a casual exchange for me. My heart beats in my ears. “I can get a ride home. But would it be OK to start tonight?”

  Unfazed, Lucas nods. “That’s fine. I’ll get you some cash for the week tonight, too.”

  My entire system relaxes a little at the word “cash.” I didn’t know how I was going to survive without some. Maybe the universe is finally giving me a break.

  “Can I see my future room?”

  “Your tentative future room,” Lucas reminds me, “but yes. Come on. You can meet Charlie, too.”

  We ascend a wooden staircase and then arrive on the second floor, which has four bedrooms, two on each side, adjoined by shared bathrooms. Lucas pokes his head into one of the bedrooms and murmurs, “Hey, Charlie? Do you want to meet the new nanny?”

  “Ugh,” Charlie grunts. I can almost hear the eyeballs rolling in his head. “Sure. Fine.”

  Lucas opens the door wider and there’s a boy with gold hair and crisp blue eyes, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He holds a half-constructed dinosaur in his hands, made of some tiny pieces much more complicated than Legos.

  “Wow,” I say, and I seriously do mean it. I lean down and squint at the craftsmanship. “You did this? Yourself?”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Charlie informs me, blasé.

  “I couldn’t do it,” I reply. “My name is Maggie.” For the first time, I don’t screw that up. “I’m going to be the new nanny, at least, until my background check comes back, and my references get checked.” Then I’m back on the street, running. But I can still enjoy the beautiful family and the warm, dry house while I have the chance. “You must be Charlie.”

  A small, real smile turns at the corners of Charlie’s lips, and he nods once.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “You, too,” he says.

  “I’m going to check out my new room now but I’m sure I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Sounds good.” I get another small, real smile and step out backward through the open door, bristling up against Lucas’s chest for a second. He’s shutting the door as I crowd against him, and I spring away, flooded with heat. It tingles up into my cheeks and fingers, like I was frozen cold and then brought by the fire.

  “You got more than a syllable out of him,” Lucas says, true admiration in his eyes. “I didn’t even know if that could be done anymore.”

  “All most kids need is a little encouragement,” I say, even though I have no idea what most kids need. I don’t have a degree in child psychology.

  “I’m sure the fact that you’re a young, beautiful woman had nothing to do with it,” Lucas adds. I slant him a look and he recoils, looking around like someone else must have said that.
“I mean, a regular woman,” he amends. “Charlie likes regular, average-looking women.”

  I can’t help but smile. He thinks I’m beautiful.

  “And this is going to be your room,” Lucas finishes awkwardly, pushing open my door. There’s a massive bed overloaded in pillows and fragrant candles filling a luxurious vanity mirror. I couldn’t have gotten a better room in a five-star hotel.

  And yet, all I can think is that the only thing separating my bedroom from Lucas’s is a bathroom. A bathroom we share.

  Maybe you need to get some. Soon. And not from anybody’s daddy. Not from your boss. So messy. You need to get some from a young, uncomplicated idiot in town.

  As he leads me back down the hall, I notice a family portrait with Lucas, Charlie, Madison, and a blonde woman I don’t recognize. Her hair is blown out and teased all to hell, her makeup flawless and her bosom presumably fake.

  “Is that their mom?” I ask. I use a low voice, so I don’t upset anyone. Maddy is watching cartoons now, the canned laughter and shrill squeaks leak out of the den, but Charlie might still hear.

  “That’s Astrid,” Lucas answers in an equally low voice. He sounds twice as grim as I do, though. “And I don’t want to scare you away from this job, I really don’t, but we should talk about her before you say yes.”

  Chapter 4

  Lucas

  Maggie gazes up at me with those big, gray doe eyes, and she blinks like she might be afraid of Astrid. She’s a difficult woman, but I don’t think she’d ever hurt anyone. “What about her?” Maggie asks.

  I grimace at the thought of how Astrid would tear her to shreds.

  I scratch the back of my head and break eye contact, groping for the right words. “You know what? It’s complicated, and she’s not even supposed to be here this week, so we’ll talk about it after we sign, if we sign.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows knot, but she nods.

  “Do you need help getting to your car, or getting a tow?” I offer again.

  “No, no, no,” she says, “it’s already been towed. Definitely.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  “I’ve already got one, but thanks.”

  Hm. She must have a boyfriend. Maybe some close friend or a roommate, but probably a boyfriend. Or a fiancé, if he’s smart.

  “All right, well,” I say, giving her shoulder a platonic pat and squeeze. No zaps. No raging boner. Maybe everything is going to be OK after all. “You get everything taken care of on your end. I’ll leave the front open for you, and I’ll get you a key after that check clears. Just give me two or three days on that. I’m going to spend some time with Maddy. She probably wants some help with her zombies.”

  “Her zombies?” Maggie repeats.

  “She’s into drawing zombies right now. It’s, ahem, a bit of a dark period,” I explain, clearing my throat uncomfortably. Sometimes I wonder if Astrid and I are to blame for the macabre renderings. “I’ll give you tomorrow’s itinerary when you get back with your things.”

  I wish she could start sooner than tomorrow, because I have literally one hundred calls to make, but she does still kind of look like something the cat dragged in, and she needs time to move all her things. I can’t just start working her right off the bat. I’m lucky she even came. I thought Fig was my last chance, and I chased her out with that plastic cup.

  I don’t see Maggie much for the rest of the night, though I hear her come and go. I hear her putting her dirty clothes in the washer. I take video of Madison going into a total My Little Pony frenzy, but Charlie never leaves his room, even for dinner. Something has changed for him, and he won’t talk to me about it. “It’s chicken noodle soup with a little bit of ginger. It’s good as hell, honestly,” I promise him from the bottom of the wood staircase.

  “I’m not hungry,” Charlie calls.

  I used to push him when he got like this, but the reaction was poor. I don’t want to do what was done to me, what worked for me. I want to do what works best for Charlie. He’s not like me. He’s sensitive and soft.

  My jaw sets, but I don’t yell. “All right, son. I’m going to leave it warm on the stove for you if you change your mind.”

  Silence.

  I put Madison to bed at eight o’clock, and I check on Charlie. He’s glued to his laptop. “What are you doing?” I ask, already a hint suspicious.

  “Homework,” he replies in a monotone, not looking at me at all.

  I glower, but I have to trust him. The screen does show a word processor on it. “All right,” I say and close his door. I head into my room to undress and hop in a hot shower.

  I whip my shirt overhead, but as my hands go to the button on my jeans, the bathtub faucet shrills to life and I pause. Charlie wouldn’t use this bathroom; he has his own.

  It has to be Maggie.

  My throat goes dry, and my dick stiffens. I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for it—in fact, I’m a little surprised, because she’s too young for me. I shouldn’t want her.

  Through the bathroom door, I hear the bathtub curtain rake to the side, tinkling like bells.

  Her naked body swims to me, even though I don’t want to see it. I have to see it. Her wide, curvaceous hips part the shower steam like a boat moving through waters. I bet she has one of those little dimples right above her ass. I wonder if the water feels so good on her cold skin that she might softly moan to herself. The same kind of moan you give up during foreplay when it’s naughty and you can’t get caught.

  I’m at the bathroom door before I even realize it. I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself to back away.

  What are you doing?

  I douse the light and stretch out on my bed to wait for the shower water to stop.

  Maggie’s breasts swing in front of my mind’s eye, hot droplets of water slapping them and trickling down, making them so juicy, so edible.

  My hand dips past the waistband of my jeans and forms a fist around the head of my cock. He throbs hungrily, and my teeth skim my lower lip. Fuck yeah. Let’s do this. It’s been a while since I felt inspired to let one go in my own bed, much less out of sheer need to relieve pressure.

  I buck my hips upward and slide up and down in my own hand, clutching tight.

  I dare to picture her pussy, clean-shaven and delicate, as tender and sweet as a slice of mango, tucked between her legs.

  My hand pumps harder. I bet she’s tight.

  Things come in chaotic flashes as I get closer. She’s bringing everything to a head sooner than I thought she would, sooner than anyone has in a while.

  Her eyes glare up at me in passion and pleasure. Her lips pucker around the words “Don’t stop,” which she breathes against my ear. “Oh, yeah,” she coos, and I imagine myself plunging into her, my full length. Up to the hilt. Merciless.

  My dick pulses responsively, wanting to slam into her, too.

  Shit. She’s just a nubile blonde in your house. It doesn’t mean anything. You don’t even know anything about her. So, she majored in child psychology. So, she doesn’t do drugs. I still don’t know anything about Maggie Marshall.

  And I don’t have to.

  It doesn’t have to mean anything.

  It can just be you and me. Stroking in and out. Pressing your tits against the foggy bathroom mirror. Sinking my teeth into your shoulder and feeling the goosebumps spread all down your body. I want to grind on your clit with my middle finger until you come strong and hard, let it course down your shaking legs. I’ll lick it up.

  Fuck. Fuuuck.

  I’m breathing too hard. I can’t let this be audible, but I’m about to come. The fantasy is too strong. It has control of my mind and my body.

  I feel myself buried in her, believe that the walls of her pussy surround my dick, clutching, clenching. Her husky, bashful voice rings in my head: “Just take it, daddy.” She turns her hips up higher, giving me deeper access as I slam her from behind. “Take it how you want it.”

  The faucet shrills, and the shower water f
alls silent. The curtain jingles as it slides back. I see her body clear as day in front of me, even though my eyes are closed. Water traces down her tight little tummy and slithers between her pussy lips. God, I can’t stand to think about that clean pussy, so hot and wet with shower water. How good it must taste. How tight it must be. Only separated by one wall.

  I let go with my jaw clamped tightly, forcing myself to be silent. Spurts of cum lash into the T-shirt balled up in my hand, but in my mind, that seed drives deep into Maggie. Fuck, I can’t help it. It’s those eyes, as feminine and thoughtful as a cat’s eyes. And the blond curls and the freckles. I’m fucked.

  I let the crumpled T-shirt drop and exhale like a man in trouble, a man with no options.

  I can’t fuck the nanny. Astrid would either die or kill me. She’s not harmless when she’s taking her medicine. And it would damage the kids. The nanny is to support them during this time. If I fuck her, it would shatter them. It’s too soon, and she’s a total stranger. She might not even keep the job. So there. It’s decided.

  That’s right. You cannot fuck the nanny. She has a boyfriend, and she’s too young for you.

  Do not fuck the nanny.

  Chapter 5

  Sofia

  I groan and burrow deeper into my blankets, relishing the sensation of such a ridiculous thread count. I’ve never felt so pampered in my life. After so many days on the road, all the stress, Agent Callahan breathing down my neck, I hadn’t had the chance to luxuriate in a hot shower and a long, deep sleep. But I finally feel safe somewhere.

  I close my eyes, and everything swirls into a delicious, inky black.

  Approximately one second later, the alarm clock shrills, alerting me that it’s six o’clock, and I bolt upright. After a few minutes, all the details filter down again. Lucas Gray’s cabin. Charlie and Madison. Playing house. Right.

  If I want to keep this life in the lap of luxury, I need to nan up.