Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
Nolan
" W hat crawled up your ass today?" Weston asks as he gets a good look at me two weeks later.
I've been fucked up about the kiss Annabelle and I shared since it happened, and I haven't talked to anyone about it. I'm not the type of person to go and blab about my personal life. It's always just been Ashlynn and I. Things that we were going through, never involved anyone else. But, Weston is here and he's the person I would probably consider my best friend, so he's going to hear it. "How inappropriate is it to have sexy thoughts about your daughter's nanny?"
He chuckles before it turns into a full-blown laugh. "So you wanna get sued? Perfect."
"No, I don't wanna get sued, asshole." But I can't deny that I'm definitely thinking about her in ways I shouldn't be. "I don't know why I thought you'd take this seriously."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What's going on with you?"
How do I explain what's going on in my head when I don't even know what's going on myself? "I haven't been interested in a woman in a long time," I start. "Basically, since Ashlynn was born, my entire life has been about her. Maybe I'm looking to change that, but I don't know how. Is it a good idea? Will Ashlynn be the one hurt in the long run. Does it make me a shitty dad that I'm starting to think with my dick again?"
Weston leans back in his chair, eyeing me with that annoying smirk of his. We're at our usual spot, the bar around the corner from my office where we meet every other Thursday. It's become something of a tradition since I became a single dad.
"So you've finally noticed you're still a man with needs? Congratulations." He takes a swig of his beer. "Though your timing could be better. The nanny? Really?"
I scrub a hand down my face. "I didn't plan it, okay? It just happened."
"What exactly happened? You said a kiss?"
The memory floods back instantly,Annabelle's soft lips against mine, the surprised little gasp she made, how her body melted against me for just a second before we both pulled away. Her nails and fingers dug into my shirt like she didn't want to let go. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Completely aware I shouldn't be having these thoughts about her.
"It was nothing. She cooked dinner like she always does. It's part of her contract, and we were picking up, putting the dishes in the dishwasher. It all felt so fucking domestic, and I looked at her…" I trail off, staring into my whiskey like it might offer some explanation for my behavior.
"And you jumped her," Weston finishes, way too amused.
"No. It wasn't like that." I lower my voice when I realize I'm getting looks from the next table. "It was... mutual. The way she was smiling about Ash? I just... I couldn't help myself."
"So what did she do after?"
"Nothing, we pulled apart and didn't say anything. She left like her ass was on fire. The next day she texted me, said it was unprofessional and it wouldn't happen again." The memory stings more than it should.
Weston whistles low. "Cold."
"Professional," I correct. "She was being professional." If I say it enough, I'll believe it.
"And you've been a mess ever since."
I don't answer. I don't need to. He knows, and he's enjoying it.
"Look," Weston says, leaning forward now, "maybe you just need to get her out of your system. Hook up with her, have a good time, move on. No strings attached."
I nearly choke on my drink. "Are you insane? She works for me. She takes care of my kid."
"So? You're both adults. As long as you keep it casual and make sure she knows that's all it is,"
"That's your solution? 'Hey Annabelle, I know you look after the most important person in my life, but would you mind if we fuck so I can stop being distracted by you?'"
Weston shrugs. "I'd word it differently, but essentially, yeah. You're overthinking this, man. It's just sex."
But that's the problem. I'm not sure it would be just sex, and that scares the hell out of me.
"I'll think about it," I lie, just to end this conversation.
"You do that." He doesn't believe me either.
I'm still thinking about Weston's terrible advice when I pull into my driveway that evening. It's already dark, later than I usually get home. I had to finish reviewing a contract that couldn't wait until tomorrow. Or at least that's what I told myself. I sat in my truck outside the bar and went through every email I could find to keep myself from heading home.
I sit in my truck for a minute, gathering myself. What kind of man avoids his own home because he can't control his thoughts about the woman who works for him? A pathetic one, that's who, or one who's a major glutton for punishment.
The lights are on inside, warm and inviting. Through the front window, I can see movement,Annabelle, probably cleaning up from cooking dinner or getting Ashlynn ready for bed. I should have called to let her know I'd be later than normal.
When I finally make it inside, the house is quiet except for soft murmuring coming from Ashlynn's room. I kick off my boots, then follow the sound.
I stop in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.
Annabelle is sitting in the rocking chair by the window, Ashlynn curled against her chest. She's reading from one of Ashlynn's favorite books, her voice gentle as she does different voices for each character. My daughter's eyes are heavy with sleep, but she's fighting it, entranced by the story and the woman telling it.
Neither of them notices me at first, and I take advantage of the moment to just... look. To take in the scene that makes my heart feel too big for my chest.
Annabelle's dark hair is pulled back in a loose bun, strands escaping to frame her face. She's always hot, even though the clothes aren't,simple jeans and a soft blue sweater that brings out her eyes. Nothing provocative, nothing special. And yet I can't tear my gaze away.
It's not just her beauty that gets to me,though God knows she's beautiful. It's how at ease she is with my daughter. How Ashlynn looks at her with complete trust and adoration. The way Annabelle seems to genuinely enjoy these moments, not just endure them as part of her job.
Ashlynn spots me first. "Daddy." she exclaims, her sleepy face lighting up.
Annabelle startles slightly, looking up. When our eyes meet, I see a flash of something,uncertainty, maybe, or nervousness,before her professional mask slips back into place.
"Nolan," she says, her voice even. "We weren't sure when you'd be home, so we went ahead with bedtime."
"That's fine," I say, stepping into the room. "Sorry I'm late."
She stands, carefully transferring my half-asleep daughter to my arms. Ashlynn immediately snuggles against me, and I breathe in the clean scent of her freshly washed hair.
"I'll leave you to it," Annabelle says quietly, moving to slip past me.
Our arms brush as she passes, and we both freeze for a split second. The contact is minimal, nothing more than a whisper of fabric against fabric, but it sends electricity through me all the same.
"Belle," I say, before I can stop myself.
She turns, those blue eyes expectant. "Yes?"
What am I going to say? Weston's crude suggestion floats through my mind, and I immediately dismiss it. Not just because it's inappropriate, but because looking at her now, seeing her with my daughter, I know it's not what I want.
I don't want to get her out of my system. I don't want casual. And that realization terrifies me more than anything else.
"Thank you," I say instead. "For taking such good care of her."
Her expression softens just slightly. "It's my job, Nolan, and I love her."
"I know you do."
I watch her walk away, feeling the weight of my daughter in my arms, the beat of my heart in my chest. I think about how hard I've worked to create stability for Ashlynn after her mother walked out. How carefully I've built this life where my daughter feels safe and loved.
I can't risk that. I won't.
If I mess things up with Annabelle, I won't just lose a nanny. Ashlynn will lose someone she's clearly becoming attached to. I'll have to start over, find someone new, rebuild that trust.
No. Whatever this thing is between Annabelle and me, it isn't worth risking my daughter's happiness.
I press a kiss to Ashlynn's forehead. She's fallen asleep against my shoulder, completely trusting, completely innocent. Tomorrow, I'll set clearer boundaries with Annabelle. Keep things strictly professional.
But as I lay Ashlynn in her bed and tuck her in, another thought creeps in: What if I'm using my daughter as an excuse? What if the real reason I'm pulling back is because I'm scared? Not of ruining things for Ashlynn, but of opening myself up again after being left.
I shake the thought away. It doesn't matter. The decision is made.
Later, after Annabelle has gone home and the house is quiet, I pour myself another whiskey and stand at the kitchen window, staring out at nothing. I try to convince myself I'm doing the right thing. The responsible thing.
But I can still feel the ghost of her lips against mine. Can still see her cradling my daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.
And I know, with a certainty that terrifies me, that staying away from Annabelle is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done.