Just as I’m rising onto my elbows, staring out the egress window to wait for the next bolt of lightning, a high-pitched shriek fills the air.
Every hair on my body stands.
Callie.
With the blanket still wrapped around my ankles, I’m already racing up the steps. I kick the covers off and dash down the hallway. When I make it to my daughter’s bedroom, my gaze anchors on the bed.
Jessa is already there, comforting Callie, who’s wide-eyed and sitting up beneath her princess-patterned sheets.
My heart trembles with something powerful as I watch the nanny console my girl. Jessa’s arms are wrapped around Callie, and her lips are pressed against the child’s temple as she murmurs soothing words into her little ear.
Love pours out of her. I see the woman love on my daughter every moment of every day. The kind of love a mother is supposed to have for her baby.
Jessa’s eyes flick to mine, like she senses me in the doorway. Our gazes hold. Still, she doesn’t budge, doesn’t loosen her nurturing grip on my scared child.
Callie glances up and sees me. The little girl takes over my whole wide world, cutting me off at the knees with just one word. “Daddy…”
She stretches out her arm, reaching toward me.
I rush to her side just as lightning slices through the sky again. She whimpers and buries her face into my chest. Her little arms encircle my neck. Without hesitation, I climb into her bed, squeezing in next to the girls.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” I whisper into her hair over and over again. “I’m here.”
I am shredded to pieces. I hate seeing my little girl tremor with so much fear. Yet still, I’ve been waiting for years to hold her like this, to be able to offer her the comfort that only a dad has to give.
My baby needs me.
When Callie calms and settles herself comfortably in my hold, I exhale, awash in peace. Her breathing evens out and I’m pretty sure that she’s asleep.
I glance up and find Jessa staring at me. She’s looking at me with equal parts admiration, curiosity, relief, maybe even a hint of heat. I’m definitely no expert on reading women, though, so maybe I’m mistaking the shadows in her eyes for something else.
She breaks eye contact and focuses on my daughter for a split second. Then she starts to stealthily peel herself out of the bed. It doesn’t work.
Callie stirs, her eyes still closed, and she murmurs, “Don’t go, Jessa. Stay please.”
The nanny exhales hard before leaning down to kiss the top of Callie’s head. Her mouth is so close to mine, I can smell the minty toothpaste on her breath. Suddenly, I remember in detail what it’s like to kiss her. And now, I want to get even closer.
“Of course, sweet girl. I’m here,” Jessa says softly before snuggling back down next to my daughter. She doesn’t even look to me to ask my permission. That almost makes me smile. Knowing that she’s going to do whatever is in Callie’s best interests, whether or not I approve. That’s some unconditional devotion right there.
The bed is impossibly small, but the three of us make it work. Jessa lies on her side, her back pressed up against the wall. I pull Callie’s sleeping body over my chest, so I can lay flat on my back and give us a couple more inches of space. But it kind of backfires on me, because now, I can feel the heat from Jessa’s body radiating right next to mine. My legs are hanging over the foot of the mattress and Jessa’s knees are tucked up against my calves.
Her big eyes find mine again, glittering like fireflies in the darkness. I wonder if she’s thinking about the last time our bodies were this close—the night when we kissed—because that’s all I can seem to think about. But more than anything, I can’t help but wish she was more than just Callie’s nanny. She already loves my daughter. Now, she’s getting under my skin, too. I can’t help but think that this could be so easy with her.
The question, though, is how do I label these things I’m starting to feel for her? The soothing warmth in my chest each time she smiles at Callie. The strong ripple in my gut every time our skin accidentally touches. The sharp ache in my dick whenever she cuts her eyes at me or stands up for herself or puts me in my place. Everything she does reminds me that I’m alive.
Calm the fuck down, buddy.
What is wrong with me? The woman is the nanny. Not my mail-order bride. And after the way I’ve treated her, she probably can’t even stand me.
Jessa’s doe eyes flutter shut. I watch, bewitched, as she drifts to sleep.
An almost foreign sort of peace sweeps over me. It isn’t long till I’m sleeping, too.
21 Eli
The nurse rubs a soothing hand on my grandfather's back as he swallows a colorful cocktail of pills and washes it down with a glass of cloudy water.
Hovering over his bed, I fluff up a deflated pillow and glide it behind the old man’s back. He grunts and leans his head back on the pillow. I’m pretty sure that’s as close to a thank you as I’m going to get and I’m okay with that.
It’s been a pretty uneventful past few days since Jessa got back from her time off and put me in my place. She’s kept our conversations to a minimum and made damn sure to stay out of my way. I hate the wall she’s built between us but I get it; she has every right to be pissed at me after the way I’ve behaved.
The tension in the house was too much today so after dealing with the water that seeped into the house after last night’s rainstorm, I decided to pay my grandfather a visit, something I’ve been delaying, knowing full well that seeing him after all
