Page 89 of The Nanny Game Plan
“Okay, Daddy,” Ava says, sliding out of her chair. “Can I wash my hands in your bathroom? I like the new soap in there.”
“Sure,” I say.
“Me, too. Me, too!” Bella says, scampering after her sister. “I love that soap.”
“Help Bella wash her face, too, Ava, please,” I call after them. “She has flour all over.”
“I do not,” Bella shoots back.
“You do, too,” I say, raising my voice to be heard as their footsteps retreat down the hall. “And up your nose, as well, so blow your nose first with tissues before you wash.”
“I do not…” Bella trails off, giggles, then adds, “Idohave flour up my nose! How’d that get there?”
Clover laughs, sliding the final pizza into the oven before calling back, “Magic, probably. That’s how I always get flour upmynose. Use one of the washcloths by the sink, okay? That will help get it all off.”
“Okay!” Bella and Ava both call back, followed by the softer murmur of conversation as they negotiate the best way to accomplish their task.
Before Clover, I wouldn’t have trusted them with something like this. I would have done the washing and cleaning up for them, but they’re capable of more than I gave them credit for. And being trusted with chores and the responsibility for taking care of themselves and their things makes them proud. They’re so much more confident than they were before, and I’m so grateful.
Clover’s a top-notch nanny. She’s also the world’s best girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean she should be expected to take care of my kids for free.
“At least let me pay you,” I say as I tackle the mess the girls left behind.
“Nope, no way,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she faces me across the table, sweeping Ava’s leftover flour into an empty bowl. “Don’t even start with that crap.”
“It’s not crap. It’s the right thing to do. It’s not fair to ask you to do something for free that you were being paid a salary to do before you and I were a thing.”
“I’m still getting paid, Dean,” she says with a huff that makes it clear she thinks I’m being crazy. “You paid me two months’ severance in advance, remember?AndI’m living in your apartment rent-free.”
“But that doesn’t?—”
“Also, pretty sure you’ve paid for most of my groceries since I moved in. And that wasn’t even in our contract.”
I roll my eyes. “So what? It’s not like you eat that much. And you’ve helped cook dinner dozens of times, which wasn’t in your contract, either. None of that means you have to step in now, when the contract is no longer in place. Especially not for free.”
“I know, I don’t have to,” she says as she dumps the flour mess in the trash. “Iwantto. I care about the girls, and I don’t want them to be rushed into an overnight with someone they don’t know or trust.” Her gaze softens. “And I care about you. I want to help make your life easier when I can. It’s what people in a relationship do, you know?”
I dump the smashed mushrooms and olive pits in the trash, too, and linger beside her. “You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure,” she says, arching a teasing brow. “I’ve never had a relationship like this before, so I can’t say from firsthand experience, but…” She shrugs a shoulder. “I mean, it feels pretty grown-up and healthy.”
“It does.” I wrap an arm around her waist. “I like being grown up and healthy with you.” I dip my head closer to hers as I murmur in a softer voice, “Especially the grown-up part.”
“Me, too.” She leans into me, her chin tilting up until I have no choice but to kiss her.
It’s a relatively sweet kiss, at least as far asourkisses go, lately. We’re in a honeymoon phase, where the heat between us goes from zero to “so hot we have to rush into the closest room with a lock for a quickie” with a frequency that’s probably bad for my heart, but we both know there’s no time for that right now. The girls will be back soon. It’s almost time for dinner.
Still, I can’t help stroking my tongue against hers, relishing the taste of her, and how perfect she feels pressed against me. In a cozy sweatshirt and silky pajama pants, she’s especiallyhuggable tonight, so soft and warm it seems a shame not to squeeze in time for a movie before the kids go to bed.
I’m about to suggest I pack fast now, while she gets the girls set up with dinner, so we can have couch cuddle time, when a gagging sound echoes through the kitchen.
Clover and I jump apart, but it’s too late.
We’ve been caught.
Twenty-Two
DEAN
