Nanny for the SEAL (Off-Limits Bosses)

1. Xaden

ONE

Xaden

I duck out of the way just as the vase crashes into the wall to the side of my head. The shattering sound rings in my ears, going straight down my spine and forcing me to clench my hands into fists.

It’s too loud, too similar to the sound of breaking window glass. I have to suck in a breath, closing my eyes so that I can keep the panic at bay.

Come on, Xade. You’re okay. It’s a vase. Not a mortar. You’re here. Not there.

I repeat the mantra a few times while Laura huffs in furious breaths, complaining that this is “totally unfair.”

After a moment, I rake my eyes upward, glaring at the young woman standing across the kitchen from me. I knew this would be an uncomfortable meeting, but I’ll admit that the vase throwing took me by surprise.

Not as much as her trying to seduce me, of course.

“Laura, you need to leave. I can’t just let you steal from me and my home. I trusted you with the care of my daughter, and you’ve completely betrayed that. And to come on to me in some vain attempt to weasel your way out of it? That was incredibly unprofessional.”

There’s nothing else in arms reach for Laura to throw, so she stamps her foot, a high-pitched shriek bubbling up from behind her overly glossy lips.

Aside from the stealing and the fact that she never seemed all that interested in Daisy, which should be a given if you’re the kid’s nanny, Laura could never be my type.

“This is total bullshit! You can’t prove anything.” She glares at me for half a second before it melts into another one of her disgusting smirks. “Besides, it really would be just so much better to solve this another way.”

I stifle a grimace, but only barely. All I can do is frown as Laura tucks her blonde hair behind her ear, the waves overly crunchy from whatever product she has waded up in there.

Laura is too flashy for my tastes, but she came recommended by New York Au Pairs, and she was willing to relocate to Red Lodge.

Too bad she has sticky fingers along with sticky lips. Ugh, it’s like fucking shellac.

Months. Laura had been stealing from me for months, and I only just now noticed. Nausea burns in my guts as I consider how long she’s been around Daisy doing all this.

And to hit on me to get out of it? Gross was a vast understatement.

“You need to leave, Ms. Conrad. I won’t ask again. Just be glad I’m agreeing to not press charges.” I level her with a glare, folding my arms over my chest to make sure she understands the severity of the situation. “For now.”

“Ugh!” She screeches again, but this time, Laura snags her purse that’s hanging off the back of the chair at my island and storms off toward the door.

I’m not about to trust her to leave without a final “fuck you,” by stealing something else. So, I follow her toward the front door, glaring each time she looks over her shoulder at me.

Just as we get to the front door, Laura pauses, turning around with a forlorn expression pinned to her overly made-up face.

“You really don’t think we could reconsider this? I’m really sorry. I swear!” Her eyes go wide, pleading, and she even takes a step forward with her hands clutched at her chest. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”

I study her, using my skill for reading people that I got pretty damn good at when I was performing specialized reconnaissance missions.

And Laura was lying out her ass.

“No. I’m not interested in testing your willpower.” I uncross my arms to reach for the door, pulling it open. “And I’ll consider your last week’s paycheck as recompense for everything that you stole. Even though it doesn’t cover it in the slightest.”

“Ugh!”

That fucking squeal is going to kill someone’s hearing one day. Still, Laura is clearly done fighting the inevitable and storms out of the house.

I step onto the porch after her, watching her hoof it to her car in those ridiculous clog-like heels of hers. She stumbles a bit on the walk, whining and muttering to herself about how I was just an asshole who needed to get laid.

Which she isn’t entirely wrong about. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s a thief.

It doesn’t take Laura long to fire up her car and speed off down the somewhat remote highway that leads back into Red Lodge proper. It’s times like this that I’m glad my number of neighbors is limited to three.

And they all live in the house to my right.

Glancing across the expansive lawns that separate us, I take note of Mason’s house, the two cars parked in the driveway now, and the way it’s decorated for fall like it never was before Bridget moved in…

Pretty damn cozy over there, aren’t you?

I sigh, knowing I’m just jealous—exceptionally so, in fact. I had this chance at happiness, my future mapped out in golden threads, and I tore it to shreds because I’ve been a fucking wreck since leaving the SEALs.

“Ugh. Okay, I need a drink now.”

Hauling myself around, I start to head back inside when I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. Freezing, confusion ripples through me because the house on my other side has been vacant for ages.

“What the?—”

But it’s not a ghost or a squatter, which would actually be preferable. No, it’s a woman. A woman standing on the porch of the old Miller place with a cardboard box in her arms.

And she’s staring at me with her eyes as big as saucers.

Fuck.

My brain is a chaotic swirl of thoughts. The woman is stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and we lock eyes for a moment . All I can do is lose myself in her lovely features.

Waves of strawberry blonde locks tumble down from a messy bun that’s been piled on top of her head and is coming loose from everywhere. Her hair shifts in the breeze, revealing more of her startling green eyes that pierce right through me.

They’re so damn bright and remind me of too many things.

Still, it’s the softness of her expression, the way she looks like she’s made from silk, that pulls me in. Warm tan freckles cover every inch of her skin, from her sweet face to the bit of her chest that I can see poking out from behind her knit sweater.

She has luscious full lips and a sweet button nose, and she’s staring at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind.

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath, yanking my head down and stooping like I need to tie my shoe.

Because I’ve been reduced to teenage antics at this point.

Worse, I realize that with the way she was looking at me, there’s no way my new neighbor missed Laura’s dramatic exit. Lord knows what the woman is thinking about all that, but I doubt it’s, “Oh, how unfortunate that he had to fire his nanny.”

Sneaking a glance in her direction, I watch as she raises her brows and stares down at the ground before shaking her head and going inside.

Excellent. Great first impression, Xaden.

With another protracted sigh, I stand up and go back inside to find Daisy. I know she had the joy of hearing all that with Laura, too, and I need to be sure she’s okay.

Still, I couldn’t help but be hung up on the fact that someone was actually moving into that house. It’s been empty for years, and it’s not like I’ve seen the woman around town.

She moved here from somewhere and chose that house of all places? Why? This isn’t exactly a popular destination.

I shut the door behind me, lock up, and try to remind myself that it doesn’t matter why a stranger moves anywhere. It’s none of my business, and I need to stay away—for everyone’s sake.

But the vibrant green of her eyes, like a backlit peridot, sticks in my mind, and I’m immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

I’m a single dad, for Christ’s sake, and have no business ogling someone who’s probably just out of their twenties, if that.

The weight that steadily rests on my shoulders every day pulls harder for a moment, and then I look up to see Daisy standing at the top of the staircase, her eyes wide and glassy.

“Oh, honey.”

I rush up the stairs, forgetting my own bullshit, and wrap my arms around her. She melts into me, her tiny frame dwarfed by my shoulders.

Picking her up, I carry her downstairs to the living room, setting her on the couch and sitting next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“That was loud. Laura was yelling.”

Frowning, I smooth my hand down Daisy’s cheek. “I know, babe. I’m sorry about that. Daddy was mad about something, and Laura was making a bad choice.”

Daisy’s little brow furrows as she considers what that means. “Was she naughty? Did you have to send her to time out?”

Smiling only because I wish life was as simple as it can be for a four-year-old, I hang my head to the side and nod.

“Yeah, sort of. Laura was breaking the rules. She can’t come by anymore. I’m sorry.”

With her own little nod, Daisy sniffles, holding her favorite stuffy a bit closer. “Someone else is going to watch me now?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll find someone for when I’m working, okay? We’ll make sure she’s really nice.”

“Okay.” Daisy chews on the inside of her cheek, but her soft voice is even more quiet. “But you can be with me for now?”

My heart breaks a little at that. I want to spend as much time with Daisy as possible. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I know that every parent feels the same.

Work and responsibilities keep me away from her, not too much, I don’t think, but it’s still hard to need this help like I do.

And if I wasn’t alone in this, it would be a hell of a lot easier.

“I can, babe. But Daddy will need to find some help because he has to work, okay?”

Daisy smiles. “Okay.”

Leaning back onto the couch, she gets comfortable with Blue, her little stuffed dog, and then points to the TV.

“Can I watch? But not Ms. Rachel. It’s a baby show.”

I can’t help but laugh. As I grab the remote, I pull up YouTube to let her pick out something to watch while I think about getting us some food, which is probably going to entail ordering out because someone didn’t go grocery shopping.

God, I really do need some help—quick.

“Daddy?”

I look down at Daisy. Her brows are pinched together again, and I tilt my head. “Yeah, honey. What’s up?”

“Why don’t I have a momma instead of a nanny? That would be better.”

It takes everything I have not to break down. But I won’t do that in front of Daisy. I know she’s just trying to understand her world, and even though I’ve had this conversation with her, I also know that it takes little minds a while to process.

At least, that’s what the grief counselor and every other therapist has said.

“It would be better, hun. You’re right. Unfortunately, Momma got hurt. It was very bad, and she couldn’t get better. So,” my voice breaks, and I have to clear my throat, “she’s somewhere else now. Watching over you as best she can.”

Daisy frowns, putting her hand on mine. “Momma is like Terry?”

I’m nearly choking on the need to fall apart now. Still, the comparison is so accurate that I actually crack a smile.

“Yes, honey. Momma is like Terry, the turtle. They both got too hurt. They had to go where all things go when they pass.”

She nods again, her little brow squeezing as she tries to wrap her head around the reality of death. It’s too big for a four-year-old to have to deal with, and I’ve tried so damn hard to protect her from the vastness of pain that comes with it.

I don’t lie to her. I know better than that. But the idea of her believing that her mom will come back and then learning how untrue that is is far worse.

I don’t think I could survive her disappointment, her heartbreak.

It’s better that she understands that her mother is gone—and not coming back.

Even if I might wish for that with everything I have.

“I didn’t like Laura. She smelled funny.” Daisy grimaces, and I can’t help but laugh. “Can the next nanny smell better? No more skunk smell?”

I cock my head, trying to understand what Daisy means. When I realize that Laura was also smoking pot, among her other infractions, I clench my jaw, closing my eyes so that I don’t lose my temper all over again.

“Yes, honey. No more skunks.”

“Good.” Daisy perks up. “Are there snacks?”

I chuckle and stand up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. “Yes, baby. There are snacks.”

But as I walk into the tiled expanse, all I can see are bright headlights rocketing straight toward my car and Maeve screaming from the front seat.

I try to force myself to breathe around the images of blood soaking the pavement and the sound of crunching metal that haunts my thoughts.

I can’t panic. I can’t fall apart. Never again. Not after that night. Not after it cost me my wife.