I can’t help but hope that this little trip into town might turn out to be a good idea. That maybe, just maybe, it will help Callie soften up around me.
Jenny has the three of us trudging up and down every single aisle. So much for just grabbing a few things for dinner tonight. If I didn't know any better, I’d think the nanny was filling up the cart to prepare for the apocalypse. And judging by the ravenous looks that little woman keeps sending my way, I’m starting to wonder if she’s deliberately trying to draw this little excursion out.
As I trail after her, a whiff of her warm, sugary scent tickles my nose. She smells delicious. Like cake fresh from the oven. A hint of vanilla. Maybe some cinnamon. With whipped cream and sprinkles on top.
And dressed in that green college sweatshirt and leggings, the nanny is inspiring a dirty sorority girl fantasy in my head. Her messy ponytail swings adorably every time she steals a peek at me over her shoulder. Her hungry eyes annoy me as much as they turn me on. I just want to wrap her hair around my fist, pull her head back and kiss my way up her throat. But there’s no way a delicate princess like her can handle a wounded man like me. She needs to quit it before something happens between us that we can’t take back.
For the hundredth time this afternoon, I break my gaze away from her appealing, little ass. I focus my attention on the shopping list in my hand. Dammit—even her handwriting is pretty. Did my cock just twitch?! Good god. My cock just twitched for her handwriting. I need help.
Jenny’s pushing the cart, while Callie sits in the front basket, swinging her legs and singing along with her nanny. They’re drawing all kinds of attention to themselves and they don’t even realize it. To them, they’re the only ones here, belting out crappy pop songs with abandon like they’re at a karaoke bar.
I can’t be pissed. Embarrassed, definitely. But not pissed. Seeing a smile on Callie's face makes me swallow my pride and follow them around the store.
When we get to the end of the snack aisle, the woman’s doe eyes light up. “Samples, yes!”
Callie bounces in her seat. “Can I have one?”
The nanny graciously accepts two pieces from the old man handing out tasters. She passes one to my daughter and saves the other for herself. Callie chews on it blissfully, humming with contentment.
“Candy?” I deadpan, not bothering to mask my disapproval. First, this woman promises my daughter ice cream. Now, more sweets? All before dinner, no less?
Jenny has the audacity to roll her eyes. “So grumpy all the time,” she mutters low. She reaches back to the sample table and swipes one more piece of candy. Before I realize what she’s up to, a small piece of red gelatin is coming at my face.
My mouth opens on its own—without getting permission from my brain—and my taste buds explode at the combination of sour cherry and the woman’s sweet skin.
Something dark coils deep inside me and my lips snap closed around her soft fingertips. Purely on instinct, I use my teeth to nip the end of her finger. She pulls in a shocked gasp.
For a moment, the grocery store fades far away, and all I see is this woman standing a breath away. Her gaze slips from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
The sugar slowly melts on my tongue, and I suck her digits gently, until her shock and pain dissolve into raw, scorching lust.
Fuck—does she feel it? That whatever-it-is sparking to life between us? I hold her gaze long enough that I know she feels it, too.
"Can I have another piece?"
Callie's voice harshly pulls my attention back into aisle eight. With wide eyes, Jenny yanks her hand free from my lips.
What is wrong with me?! When the hell did I become a creep?
I cringe. I have to deliberately remind myself that despite being horny as hell, I'm above fucking my daughter's nanny. Barely, but still above it.
My ridiculous trance now broken, I clench my fists and bark. “Hurry up with the shopping, will you? I don’t want Callie missing her bedtime again tonight.”
The woman’s eyes flutter a few times, like she’s trying to blink away the emotional whiplash of our dynamic.
Despite everything, I can’t stand to see her face fall. Especially knowing I’m the reason for it. My shoulders drop. So does my tone. “I'll go get the cheese. You grab the other stuff and meet me at the register,” I grumble then stomp off, wishing I had something to wash this sickly sweet taste of artificial cherry out of my mouth.
I pause in front of the paper towel shelf to catch my breath. I hate feeling so out of control. I momentarily close my eyes. I inhale deeply. I will not bang the nanny. I will not bang the nanny. I will not bang the nanny. There. That’s my meditation for the day.
I’m half an aisle away, when I glance back and see an old lady talking to my nanny, motioning upward, like she’s asking for help reaching for something on a high shelf. I shake my head. Seriously? Jenny can barely see over the cart.
I start backtracking when I see Jenny trying to climb the shelves. I witness the moment her tiny foot slips back. Callie shouts from the cart, and I swoop forward, throwing my arms out to catch the nanny, saving her from crash landing backward into a display of bathroom cleaner.
Her small hand clings to my shirt and her wild eyes lock onto mine. She mutters a breathless, “Thank you.”
My pulse is thumping unreasonably hard as I glare down at her where she’s safely cradled in my arms. I want to reprimand her.
