Mister Bossy (Bad Boys in Love Book 4) Page 7

I pull out my earbuds and carefully shut my old laptop, setting down the device on the bench beside me.

  My boss pauses outside the screen door. “Where’s Callie?”

  Feeling all tangled up again, I offer a timid smile. “In her room. She’s still taking her nap.”

  He nods distractedly, his hand reaching for the door handle.

  Just before he steps inside the house, I call out. “Wait, um, I made the grocery list you asked for. It’s on the kitchen counter.”

  “Right. Good. I’ll order for delivery tomorrow.”

  “Well, Callie wants macaroni for dinner tonight, so I can just run out to the grocery store and grab a few things. D’you mind if I go do that before she wakes up?”

  “Fine, Jenny,” he mumbles and opens the door.

  Jenny? Huh?

  I’m living in his house, taking care of his kid—hell, he’s even seen my boobs—and he doesn’t know my name? Lordy, that stings.

  I open my mouth to correct him but before I can get a word out, Callie bounds outside. She practically darts between Eli’s legs and crawls into my lap.

  The man sets down his box on the front mat and comes over to where I’m sitting with the child snuggled up in my arms. Crouching down to eye level with his daughter, he speaks softly to the girl. “Hey, honey. Did you have a good nap?”

  Instead of answering, Callie just buries her head into my arm. She’s always cranky when she first wakes up, especially from her afternoon naps. But I feel for her dad, because I doubt he realizes that. He looks even more dejected than before. He drops his head and sighs softly. He rises to his feet.

  I shoot Eli a sympathetic smile. “It takes a while for her to wake up completely,” I whisper.

  But his expression tells me that he’s ready to give up. A voice inside me screams, Don’t give up on her. Don’t give up on your little girl. I won’t let you give up. All she needs is time. I’m sure of that.

  I smooth my hand down Callie’s bedhead. “I’ve got to run to the grocery store, so I can make your macaroni and cheese tonight,” I tell her. “Maybe you can hang out with your daddy, and I’ll be back in just a bit.”

  She steals a quick glance at Eli. She clings to me tighter. “Can I come?” she asks, turning those puppy eyes on me. "I want to go with you."

  Callie doesn’t see Eli shaking his head firmly behind her back. I get it. I know he wants to enjoy this one-on-one time with her, so he can bond with his child again. I can see that he’s trying. But he’s got to see that she’s not ready for that just yet.

  Baby steps, Eli. Baby steps.

  And even if it costs me my job, I can’t just leave this poor terrified girl in a situation where she’s uncomfortable.

  I know, deep down, she’d be perfectly safe. Eli loves her. He’s just big and grouchy and has a scary beard.

  I turn my eyes to Eli, trying to convey a message, silently begging him to not hate me even more than he already does, silently begging him to go along with the words about to spill out of my mouth.

  Lifting Callie’s chin slightly, I smile at her and she blinks up at me. “Give your dad a second to go wash that grumpy look off his face, and then we’ll all go to the grocery store together.” My pulse is thumping when I flick my gaze at the disapproving tower of a man who’s now leering down at me. I know he doesn’t appreciate that I just backed him into a corner with that promise to Callie. Still, I grab my metaphorical shovel and keep digging my grave deeper. “And then, he’ll take us for ice cream.” I smirk in the face of his displeasure.

  Callie’s eyes pop. She cheers at my oh-so-fabulous idea.

  “Go grab your shoes. The ones with the straps,” I tell her, scooting her off my lap. She giddily skips inside.

  My boss shoots me another dark glare.

  I innocently lift a shoulder. That’s right. No backsies, Eli.

  He trails his daughter into the house.

  A trip to the grocery store followed by an ice cream run is clearly the last thing Eli wants right now. But it might just be exactly what he needs, what Callie needs. The only thing that matters is that the man continues to make an effort with his daughter.

  And I know he didn’t ask for my opinion. But I just want to help.

  12

  Eli

  I can think of at least a dozen places I’d rather be. All the stares. All the whispers. A small town grocery store is more about neighbors trading gossip on the latest local scandal than buying fresh produce. With a convicted felon in their midst, it’s the perfect fodder for the gossip mill.

  The nanny picked the worst possible time to drag me here. After my shitstain of a day at Kingston Realty, I just wanted to bury myself in my dark, damp basement and forget this day even happened. I just wanted to hide away and feel sorry for myself.

  But when I saw my daughter’s nervous reaction about spending even an hour alone with me, my own problems were forgotten. Callie is everything. My reason for waking up every morning. My reason for coming back to Crescent Harbor when leaving my old life behind and starting fresh would have been easier.

  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 he
r 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. Hell, I want to spank that tiny, sexy ass. What the hell was she thinking climbing up there?

  Before I can scold her, the little old lady pats me on my bicep with a shaky hand. “That was impressive, sonny,” she declares, a blush coming alive on her wrinkly cheeks. She winks at Jenny. “It must be so nice being married to a strong, handsome man like this.”

  My eyes lock with the nanny’s as I place her firmly back on her feet. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m sinking into quicksand. We speak at the same time, our words rushed and defensive. “We’re not married.”

  Behind us, safely seated in the cart, Callie giggles.

  Seriously, though—what the hell have I gotten myself into?

  13

  Jessa

  As I’m taking the last bite of my mac and cheese, I watch Callie scrape her plate clean. “Jessa, d’you know my daddy was almost like a charming prince today?” she says as she chews.

  Across from me, Eli’s head lifts from his own plate and his attention settles on his daughter.

  “Really?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

  She rises onto her knees and leans across the dinner table. Her pretty eyes beam at me. “Yeah, he was. Because when you fell out of the tower, he was there to catch you.”

  When I briefly make eye contact with Eli, I find the slightest smile on his face. I bite down my own smile. “Is that what a charming prince does?”

  Callie nods with enthusiasm.“Yep. He was almost like a charming prince.”

  Eli is full-on smirking now. “How come ‘almost’?”

  Callie grins, showing off all her white, little teeth. “Well, you have a hairy beard,” she declares matter-of-factly.

  Her father strokes his beard protectively. “Sometimes the prince has a beard,” he defends playfully.

  Callie gives a vigorous headshake. “No, the prince doesn’t have a beard. The big bad wolf has a beard.”

  Eli huffs, pretending to be shocked and offended. “I’m the big bad wolf?!”

  His daughter grins and nods again.

  One glance at the twisted-up expression on Eli’s handsome face and I can’t help it—I start giggling, too.

  The man’s head swings my way. The heat in his eyes hits me like a scorching frying pan to the gut. “You probably shouldn’t laugh at the big bad wolf,” he warns darkly.

  In a heartbeat, I’m tingling and fluttery under his gaze. “Why’s that?” I barely manage to croak out.

  “‘Cause it’s been a long time since I got my paws on a pretty girl.” One corner of his mouth curves up. “You never know—I might just eat you up.”

  The air between us is sweltering with tension. Since that moment we shared at the grocery store, I’ve been burning up. The panic of slipping from the shelf. The relief of falling into strong, waiting arms. The comfort of being safely cradled against a broad, throbbing chest under the bright fluorescent lights of the cleaning supplies aisle.

  I blink away from Eli’s intense gaze, my heart hammering. I need to shift the energy in the room. I speak to Callie who’s still bouncing restlessly in her seat. “Wow—you sure have a lot of energy tonight.”

  Eli scoffs and mutters under his breath. “Probably all that sugar you gave her.”

  I roll my eyes. He might not be wrong. But I know my Callie, and that girl can handle her sweets almost as good as I can.

  She’s been in a much better mood since we got back from the grocery store. There’ve been no more suspicious looks aimed at her father. No more apprehension in her words. She sat next to him at the ice cream shop, she helped him set the dinner table once we got home and she giggled in his face when he side-eyed the plate of straight-from-the-box neon-orange macaroni and cheese with hot dogs I placed in front of him. She’s thawing for him.

  Eli seems to be thawing, too. Can I just say that I caught him with his eyes on my boobs over dinner? Twice.

  And I know that he’s my boss. And I know that he’s Callie’s father. And I know that he’s angry and jaded and aloof.

  My crush is silly as hell.

  But when he looks at me, it feels good. I feel sexy, desirable, wanted. When his gaze lingers on my body and his pupils flare with greedy fire, when he checks me out like a man who knows better but just can’t help himself, it feels good.

  Eli tosses his napkin onto the table and scrubs a hand down his face, like he’s trying to wipe his lust away. “I—I should probably go for a run,” he mutters to himself. “I need to blow off some steam.” He stands from the table and collects the dinner plates. “I’ll do the dishes first.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to get her to bed,” I say, wobbling to my feet, dizzy from all the sex hanging like water vapor in the air. “It’s late, and it’s been a long day for her.”

  Adorably oblivious to everything that’s going on, Callie cheerily takes my hand as I help her down from her chair.

  She and Eli make eye contact across the room. She gifts him with another sweet smile. “Good night, Daddy,” she says, her voice so soft and tentative.

  The big man goes to mush, right before my eyes. “Good night, Cal.” Then his attention moves to me. “Good night.”

  The butterflies leave my stomach to swarm my whole body, invading me entirely, from the soles of my feet all the way to my fingertips. “Good night,” I breathe out.

  Hand in hand, Callie and I make our way down the hall to her room. Eli is on my mind as I get the little girl changed for bed, help brush her teeth, and tuck her in.

  I can’t st
op thinking about him. I just want another moment with him, another shared smile. But it won’t happen tonight. As I’m guiding Callie through her bedtime routine, I hear doors opening and closing, dishes clinking softly, a little bit of banging and shuffling about. I imagine Eli tidying the kitchen, changing into workout gear. When the house falls silent, I know that he’s left for his run. I try not to feel disappointed over that.

  I rummage around Callie’s bookshelf for a good bedtime story to read her, but by the time I turn around, she’s already out. Turning off her lamp, I kiss her forehead and tiptoe out of her room.

  When I step into the hallway, the first thing I do is check for Eli’s sneakers at the front door. I feel a hollow pang when I realize they’re gone. What is wrong with me? The man is my boss. My grumpy, mean, peevish boss. Not my friend. Certainly not my lover. I need to get a grip.

  I realize that I might need to blow off some steam as well. I’m frustrated. Sexually.

  Time to dance it out!

  I grab my phone and pop my headphones in. I cue up my Ariana Grande playlist and put Dangerous Woman on repeat. I’m so keyed up and it’s the only song I know that sums up exactly what I feel for this man.

  I move mindlessly around my room, stuffing dirty clothes into a small hamper as I dance sensually, doing my best impersonation of a vixen. Laundry basket on my hip, I head for the basement steps, wiggling my shoulders, swinging my hips and muttering along to the lyrics. I stop on the stairs to shake my butt a little. The music is moving through me.

  In the shadowy stairwell, I allow myself to be the kind of woman I wish to be. Bold. Daring. Fearless. The kind of woman who gets the guy. I wish I were brave enough to say those lyrics to him out loud.

  But I’m not. I’m the furthest thing from a vixen. I’m just the nanny. In my oversized green sweatshirt and zebra leggings and lopsided ponytail.

  I absorb every note of the song as I travel to the downstairs bathroom, where the washer and dryer live. Head in the clouds, I pull open the door…