3. Austin
Chapter 3
Austin
T he steering wheel creaks under my white-knuckled grip as I pull into the driveway, my jaw clenched so tight I can hear my teeth grinding. Fucking perfect. A million-dollar deal hanging in the balance, and our nanny decides to up and quit without warning. What the hell kind of timing is that? It’s like the universe has a vendetta against me. The thought makes my blood simmer, the tension in my neck rising like a live wire.
Miss Deveraux's hurried explanation over the phone still rings in my ears, but I can't shake the feeling that there's more to the story, that the skinny-dipping teacher isn’t being entirely truthful. Her words were all rushed, flying out of her mouth, like she was trying to cover something up. Something doesn’t add up, but I’ll deal with that later. Right now, the clock’s ticking, and I’ve got to keep it together.
I’m not the kind of guy to make snap judgments. Okay, maybe I am. But something about her doesn’t sit right—whether it’s the way she dodged my questions or the fact that I caught her naked in my pool before finding out she was teaching my son. I don’t trust her, and I’m damn sure not buying whatever story she’s selling.
I storm through the front door, the air in the foyer thick with an electric charge that matches the storm brewing inside me. My footsteps echo like thunderclaps, reverberating off the vaulted ceilings as I make my way into the house. "What the hell is going on here?" I bellow, my voice bouncing off the walls. I don’t give a shit if any of the staff is around to hear it. I need answers.
"Dad!"
Just like that, the rage melts away. Lucas barrels toward me, his little arms outstretched, and I scoop him up without hesitation. His familiar scent of apple shampoo and fruit snacks floods my senses, grounding me in a way nothing else can. For a moment, I let myself breathe him in, holding him close.
"Hey, buddy," I murmur, my voice softening, fighting the lump in my throat. "Everything okay?" I’m not sure if I’m asking him or trying to reassure myself.
Before Lucas can answer, a high-pitched squeal pierces the air, sharp and excited. "Uncle Austin! Where’s Daddy?""
I look up to see Elodie perched in Miss Deveraux's arms, her golden curls bouncing as she wriggles with excitement. For a moment, I'm struck by the sight of them together—Miss Deveraux's long, dark hair a stark contrast to Elodie's fair locks.
"Your dad's still at work, Elodie sweetheart," I explain, trying to keep my voice light. "He'll be home soon."
As I set Lucas down, I can't help but marvel at how quickly these kids can diffuse my anger. One minute I'm ready to breathe fire, the next I'm melting like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. I run a hand through my hair, realizing it's probably sticking up in all directions now. So much for the controlled image I try so hard to maintain.
"So," I say, locking eyes with Miss Deveraux, "want to tell me what really happened here?"
Her hazel eyes flash with indignation, and I can practically see the flames dancing in them. Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think she might actually breathe fire.
"Excuse me?" she says, her voice low and dangerous. "Are you implying that I lied to you, Mr. Rhodes?"
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get a word out, Elodie pipes up from Miss Deveraux's arms, her voice shrill with excitement.
"Oh, Uncle Austin! It was awful!" she exclaims, her blue eyes wide with excitement. "The nanny was yelling at Lucas for spilling his juice, and she said such mean things!"
I feel my eyebrows shoot up. "Really?" I ask, glancing between Elodie and Miss Deveraux, trying to gauge the truth in her words. Elodie isn’t known to fib, but she is six and impressionable.
Elodie nods vigorously, her golden curls bouncing. "Uh-huh! And then Miss Skylar came in like a superhero! She told the mean lady to stop being so nasty, and the lady got all red in the face and stormed out!"
I can't help but picture Miss De—Skylar, in a cape, hands on her hips like Wonder Woman. The mental image is both amusing and...oddly appealing. A strange flutter stirs in my chest, and I quickly push it aside, trying to focus.
"Is that so?" I ask, looking back at Skylar. Her expression has softened slightly, but there's still a hint of defiance in her eyes. She’s not backing down, and I can respect that. Even if it makes me want to dominate her in every way.
"That's...a pretty accurate summary," Skylar admits, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she turns her attention to the little girl in her arms. "Though I'm not sure about the superhero part."
I feel a twinge of guilt for doubting her earlier. I open my mouth to apologize again, but the words don’t come out right. "I...I’m sorry for implying you weren’t truthful," I say, running a hand through my hair again, wishing I could take back my earlier assumptions. "It’s just been a hell of a day, and I—"
"It's fine," Skylar cuts me off, her tone clipped but not unkind. "I understand. These things happen."
I nod, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension, but also an odd sense of familiarity. I’ve only met this woman a few brief times, and yet, it feels like there’s something more here, something beneath the surface I can’t quite reach. As I watch Skylar gently set Elodie down, I can’t help but wonder what other surprises this woman might have in store for us.
I meet Skylar's eyes, and suddenly I'm back at the pool, watching droplets of water cascade down her smooth skin. The name Skylar suits her perfectly. She’s wild and untamed, like a storm-tossed sky. I clear my throat, willing away the inappropriate thoughts before they become entirely too obvious.
"Thank you, Miss Deveraux," I manage, my voice a bit rougher than I'd like. "I appreciate your help today. I'll take it from here."
Skylar nods, her hazel eyes still burning with that fierce intensity. "Of course, Mr. Rhodes. Happy to help."
“Austin. You can call me Austin.”
“Fine, then. Austin. I guess I’ll see you around.”
She crouches low to the ground, her hands briefly resting on her knees as she looks down at Lucas and Elodie, a soft smile tugging at her lips. It's like she’s a different person when she’s with them—gentle, warm, genuine.
"Goodbye, you two," she says, her voice warm and sincere despite the awkwardness hanging in the air. “If you ever need anything, I’m right next door. You can come find me or Birdie, okay? Always.”
Lucas gives her a shy wave, his big brown eyes resting worshipfully on her face, while Elodie babbles happily, oblivious to the tension. Skylar gives both a gentle pat on their heads before standing up again, her posture confident and graceful.
As she walks toward the door, I can't help but feel that pull, like an invisible thread tugging me closer to her. There’s something about Skylar—something I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the way she commands attention without even trying. Or maybe it’s the sass, the defiance that radiates from her like an electric current. I bet she’d be a brat in bed.
Jesus, Austin. Stop thinking about her naked.
As I watch her leave, the thought of dragging her back inside flashes through my mind. I just want to see if she tastes as good as she looks. But then, I shove the thought aside—she's not mine to take.
Stop thinking about this woman naked, Austin. Nothing good can come of it.
As I settle the kids in the living room with a movie, I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into moving next door to this woman. And Skylar Deveraux is a complication I definitely don't need right now.
Hours later the front door slams, jerking me out of my thoughts. Cohen storms in, his face a thundercloud, with Theo close behind looking happy as a clam. But then, Theo always looks like that.
"What the hell, Austin?" Cohen’s voice booms through the house, sounding every bit like the older brother who thinks I’m a walking disaster. "Why didn’t you call me earlier?"
I hold up a hand, trying to rein in the situation. Cohen’s temper has always been hot, and right now, it’s spitting sparks. "Keep your voice down, Cohen," I hiss, nodding toward the living room where the kids are playing. "They’ve had a rough day."
Cohen’s jaw tightens, but he lowers his voice, though the edge is still there. "Elodie’s okay though, right? And who the hell is this woman you let watch them?"
I can see why he’s upset. The idea of a stranger being in charge of the kids, especially after everything that’s happened, must be a shock. But it doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to backpedal. My head is already pounding, and the last thing I need is Cohen jumping down my throat right now.
"Elodie’s fine," I snap, not bothering to soften my tone. "They’re both fine."
“You’re sure?”“I’m positive, Cohen. And I didn’t let her watch the kids. She stepped in when she heard what was going on and stayed when the nanny stormed off. Miss Deveraux is our neighbor—one of them, anyway. I think she lives in the carriage house next door.”
Cohen’s eyes flash with disbelief, and I can almost see the gears grinding in his mind as he processes this new information. "A complete stranger?” His voice rises again, the outrage still clawing at him, before he forces himself to calm down. "A complete stranger was watching our kids?"
I fight the frustration rising inside me, but keep my cool. This conversation is already edging too close to what I don’t want to talk about: the mess we’re all in. “She was also Lucas’s teacher this year. While not ideal, she’s not exactly a stranger.”
Cohen runs a hand through his hair, his temper flaring in a way I haven’t seen in a while. His eyes darken, and I know we’re not going to get through this without some friction. "You could’ve called me. I would’ve dropped everything and come home. Why didn’t you just let me know earlier?"
Theo steps in, his hand resting gently on Cohen’s shoulder, trying to calm the storm. "Let him explain, man," he says quietly, his voice that soothing tone he always uses when he wants to defuse tension. It’s usually effective, but Cohen’s not in the mood to listen or be calm right now.
I nod, feeling the weight of his words. The truth is, I should’ve called. I know I should have. But everything’s been a mess since our divorces. It’s why we’re here in the first place, living like some kind of family co-op. The condo was too big for just me and Lucas, even if Djinn takes up enough space for three humans. And honestly, I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone with all that space, of hearing the silence in the rooms that were once filled with the noise of a life that’s no longer mine.
Even if Brielle never really felt like mine. Even if she was just an obligation.
Cohen was in the same situation. After his wife up and left to "find herself" with her yoga instructor, it was just him and Elodie. Unlike me, who knew deep down what I was getting into with Brielle, Cohen was devastated when Chelsea left. It’s something we don’t talk about much, but we both know how the other feels—alone, frustrated, exhausted.
And, Theo, well, we haven't really done much without him since college. He’s as much a part of this family as anyone. It wasn’t even a question that he should move in with us, too. I know I could rely on him for anything, and lately, that’s been more than a little reassuring.
I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my own temper in check. The last thing I need right now is to let Cohen get under my skin. "Look, I should’ve called. I know that. But I was thinking about keeping our children safe and cared for while I figured out what to do next."
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I know it's not ideal. But Miss Deveraux handled the situation well. She’s used to being in charge of many kids at a time. The kids are safe, and that's what matters."
Cohen runs a hand through his hair again, a habit he's had since we were kids. I know this is his way of trying to think through things when he’s feeling cornered. "Fine. But we need a new nanny, stat. Can't the agency send someone else?"
I shake my head, feeling the weight of every decision that’s been made up until now. "Yeah. But I don’t trust the agency anymore. After today, I’m done with them.”
"Then what’s the plan?" Cohen demands, his frustration boiling over once again. I can hear the panic rising beneath his words.
I look between my brother and Theo, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I should have made a plan before now, but the fact is, I’ve been too distracted by everything else. "I don't know yet. But we’ll figure it out. Together."
As if on cue, the patter of little feet echoes down the hallway. Elodie bursts into the room, her curls bouncing, with Lucas hot on her heels. Their faces are flushed with excitement, and I can't help but smile despite the tension in the air. The sight of them always lightens my mood, even when everything else feels like it's falling apart.
"Daddy!" Elodie squeals, launching herself into Cohen's arms. He catches her effortlessly, his earlier anger melting away as he peppers her face with kisses.
I scoop Lucas up, relishing the warmth of his little body against mine. I know he’ll start to protest about the affection soon. He’s eight and growing every day, but for now, I hold him tight. It’s moments like this that remind me of why I keep pushing through, despite the mess we’re all in.
Elodie wiggles out of Cohen's grasp, her eyes sparkling. "Daddy, Uncle Austin, can Miss Skylar come back tomorrow? She's so much fun!"
I exchange a glance with Cohen before answering. I don’t want to disappoint the kids, but I also know that’s not realistic. "Well, sweetheart, Miss Deveraux surely has other things to do besides look after you two rascals all day."
"But we like her! She’s my favorite teacher," Lucas chimes in, his lower lip jutting out in a pout that's eerily similar to my own.
The kids wrangle themselves away from us and go charging back into the living room.
I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling up inside me. "Skylar Deveraux might be our only option in the short term."
Cohen is about to respond when Theo's voice cuts through the air, barely above a whisper. "Deveraux. You said Skylar Deveraux?"
I turn to look at him, confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. Theo's usually calm face has gone pale, his eyes wide and unfocused. He looks like he's seen a ghost. His gaze is locked on the ground, and for a moment, I wonder if something’s wrong.
"Yeah, Skylar Deveraux," I confirm, furrowing my brow.
Cohen nods, his expression thoughtful, as if he’s processing something behind those stormy eyes of his. "We could look into her background, see if she'd be okay temporarily nannying while we search for a more permanent solution."
I can't help but picture Skylar as I first saw her, emerging from the pool like some kind of water nymph, her long hair glistening with droplets that caught the sunlight. I clear my throat, pushing the image away. Again. "That's...not a bad idea, actually. But just temporarily."
Theo’s gaze darts between me and Cohen like he’s trying to make sense of something, but there’s a slight tension in the air that I can’t place. Something doesn’t quite add up, but I decide not to push it for now. "All right. Cohen, can you start looking into her background? I’ll give her a call tomorrow and see if she’s even interested in a temporary arrangement."
"Sure thing," Cohen says, already pulling out his phone, clearly willing to dive into whatever research he needs to do to fix this. "I’ll get right on it."
I can’t shake the feeling that we’re about to step into something much more complicated than just hiring a temporary nanny.