Page 76 of The Nanny Game Plan
I’m lucky to have people on my side who will help me do this the right way, but still…
Still, my skin itches all the way through my shower, and it’s all I can do not to race across the grass and tap on Dean’s window after. I’m dying to tell someone what I’ve learned, but I can’t tell Dean.
Not yet. Not until I have a plan.
Dean isn’t a hothead, by any stretch, but he’s protective of me. And he’s part of the “pro athlete” social scene in New Orleans. He knows a lot of NFL and NBA players in this city. There’s a chance he might know people in the UFC world, too.
And if he knows Dex Valerie and feels comfortable asking for a meet-up…
Well, I can easily imagine that meet-up turning into Dean’s fist in Dex’s face, which would be delicious, sure, but I want more than that. I want justice. Real justice. For Beatrice, for me, and anyone else this man has hurt in his reckless, violent, shitty life.
I’m positive his life has been reckless and violent. I don’t need Google confirmation for that. I can feel it in my bones, especially the bones in my leg, that—thanks to the sex gymnastics on the sunbed—are aching more tonight than in recent memory.
I have zero regrets, obviously, but Dean and I really need to make it to a bed next time.
Next time…
There’s definitely going to be a next time.
And I can’t wait.
Nineteen
DEAN
Three days later
Mardi Gras
Bella,in her pineapple Mardi Gras costume, has been on my shoulders since Jefferson Avenue.
Judging by the happy smacking sounds overhead, she consumed about seventy percent of her slice of king cake before declaring she needed a break.
Which leaves thirty percent unaccounted for.
If the nerve endings in my scalp are to be believed, however, most of that is currently being kneaded into the back of my head…
“Bell, please,” I say, wincing as another glob of sugar oozes over my ear. I reach up, flicking it to the ground as I add, “Cake in the hand, not on the dad. Remember?”
“Itisin my hand, Daddy. I’m holding it real soft and saving it for later.Don’t be worried, it’s okay.” She kisses the top of my head with a sweetness that leaves me no choice but to sigh, smile, and submit to my fate.
A giggle pulls my gaze to my right, where Clover and Ava are whispering in a way that isn’t reassuring.
At all.
“What?” I demand. “Is she wrong?ShouldI be worried?”
“Very worried!” Ava, the cutest dragon wearing a taco T-shirt at the parade, bursts into a giggle fit. “Your hair looks crazy. It’s all smooshed and full of cake!”
“It is not!” Bella insists indignantly.
“Don’t worry,” Clover says, laughing as she squeezes my arm. “I’ll help you get it out once we find our parade-watching spot. I have a brushandwet wipes in my purse. I’m prepared for anything.” She clucks her tongue. “I’ve got you, friend.”
“I’m a lucky man,” I say, meaning it. I really like being her friend. And I really,reallylike being more than her friend. I’m about to tell her so when she pulls out her cell, grinning as she aims it at my head. “What are you doing?”
“Documenting the precious memories,” she says, snorting as Bella drops another glob of purple icing so close to my nose that I flinch as it falls.
“Bella!” I huff.
