Page 39 of Buckin' Around

Her head tilts, her expression turning dangerous as she unfolds her arms and curls her hand into a fist. Letting her arm drop, she slams that fist into the door behind her three times.

Fuck.

I haul in a breath as the door opens.

“Hello, you two. What’s going on?” Mrs. Henderson is in her rollers already, her face twisted with confusion.

Riley spins to face her. “This eejit locked us out. Can I use your phone please, Florence?”

“Of course, love. At the end of the counter.”

Riley makes a beeline for the phone and is back ten seconds later.

“Spencer is everything okay, honey?”

Heat crawls up my neck. My throat closes over.

I manage a nod.

“Oh good. Your lovely little nanny here kept me company for a few hours this afternoon. I loved having her here, but perhaps she needs a key?”

I huff a strangled sound.

“Yes ma’am.”

Chapter 10

Riley

“We need to make a schedule that works for all three of us,” I say, dishing up my dinner and Ivy’s.

Spencer grunts from the sofa.

He’s tapping furiously on his phone with Ivy sleeping on his chest, her little snuffly noises making him pause every single time.

I swear, this man has freaked out over this little lady more times than I can count since I moved in.

Nothing can take a grown man down like a tiny baby. It would be adorable, if it wasn’t Spencer Lockwood, world’s most emotionally stunted man. He barely speaks to me unless it’s about something he wants. Like his laundry. I immediately shut that down. I’m not his damn mother. I’m Ivy’s nanny.

Not the same thing; not even close.

With a few boundaries set after the great key debacle of an hour ago, I think we need to iron out a solid plan. Schedules. House rules.

Just a few things to make sure all our needs are met and we don’t drop the ball again on Ivy.

The anxiety that threatened to take me down when I was separated from her was almost too much. I know I have baggagearound losing people. And when it’s my fault, the fear is too much to override.

I should have asked for a key. I should have put Ivy in our room and then had it out with Spencer in the living room. Not outside. That was stupid. Not every thought I have needs to pass my lips.

I was getting better at managing myself before I left Ireland. Now, in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people, I’m falling back on bad habits.

I make a mental note to check myself before I make an eejit of myself next time.

“Spencer?”

He looks over the sofa at me. “Yeah?”

Blue eyes meet mine. The square jawline of his, the half curl of his lips as he holds my gaze waiting for what I’m going to say next...