Chapter Seventeen
Fletcher
After the intimate conversation Jennifer and I had last night, something quite unexpected happened.
I wanted to sleep with her. No sex. Just sleeping in the same bed with our arms wrapped around each other.
It was the most wonderful thing I've experienced.
Now, I wake to sunlight streaming through the curtains and Jennifer's lush body molded to mine.
Her head rests on my chest, and one arm lies draped across my stomach.
Her breathing is delicate and feminine---until she lets out a sharp snort.
Even that piglike sound enchants me.
But I'm treading through unknown territory. Waking up with a woman in my bed hasn't happened in years. Not since before the divorce. But with Jennifer lying beside me, it seems completely natural.
She stirs against me, emitting a small moan that goes straight into my cock. Without opening her eyes, she drapes one arm over my chest and purrs, "Morning, sex god."
Her hair is a mess, and there's a crease on her cheek from my chest. I've never seen anything lovelier. "Sleep well, darling?"
"Better than I have in months." She stretches like a cat, and the movement presses her bare breasts against my ribs. And she smirks. "Guess you didn't notice what I said."
"If you mean the 'sex god' comment, I heard it all right." I chuckle, sliding my fingers through her silky hair. "But I simply can't believe a woman called me such a thing."
Jennifer props herself up on one elbow, giving me a spectacular view of her naked body.
"Fletcher Murgatroyd," she says in a cheeky scolding tone while tracing a finger down my chest. "I am completely in my right mind when I say you are absolutely mind-blowing in bed."
I seize her wandering hand and bring it to my lips. "If that's the case, perhaps we should verify your assessment. For scientific purposes, of course."
"Scientific purposes?" Laughter bubbles out of her. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
I flip her onto her back in one smooth motion, hovering above her. "I'm quite serious about my research."
Her laughter fills the room, bright and clear and infectious. But then her expression shifts to something more serious.
"Fletcher." Her voice drops to a whisper. "What happens now?"
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Because I don't bloody know what happens next. I've been so focused on getting to this moment that I haven't thought beyond it.
"What do you mean?" I ask, though I know exactly what she means.
"The children will be back tomorrow. We can't exactly reveal that their nanny is now screwing their father."
I wince at her bluntness, even though she's right. "We'll figure it out."
"Will we?" She searches my face. "Because realize this isn't just some weekend fling for you. I can't do casual, Fletcher. Not with you. Not when it involves the children."
My throat tightens. She's asking for promises I'm terrified to make. As I stare down at her beautiful face, framed by that wild hair, my heart thumps faster. The vulnerability in her green eyes terrifies me more than any commitment I've ever made.
"Jennifer, love..." I brush a lock of hair from her cheek. "This isn't casual for me. Nothing about us has ever been casual."
Relief flickers across her features, but she's not letting me off that easily. "Then what is it?"
I roll onto my side, pulling her with me so we're facing each other. Her naked body pressed against mine makes it difficult to think clearly, but this conversation is too important to cock up.
"Don't know what to call it yet," I admit. "But I know I want you here. In my bed. In my life. In the children's lives."
"As what? Your live-in girlfriend who happens to care for the children?"
The word "girlfriend" sounds odd to me. It's too casual, too temporary. But I can't bring myself to say anything heavier. Not yet. "I don't want you to be just the nanny anymore. "I want you to be...mine."
She searches my face. "Yours? What, like I'm your secret lover?"
"Christ, that came out wrong." I scrub a hand over my face. "I'm ruddy awful at this, aren't I?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing fine." She traces her fingers along my jawline. "Please tell me what you're thinking. Really thinking. Please, Fletcher."
I capture her hand and press it flat against my chest, over my racing heart. "I'm thinking I've never felt like this before. Not even with my ex-wife. I'm thinking you're the best thing that's happened to this family in years. And I'm thinking I'm absolutely terrified of fucking it up."
"I get that, Fletcher, I do." Jennifer kisses my knuckles tenderly, one by one. "Even if our relationship doesn't work out, I would never abandon you that way, running off to another continent with a gigolo."
Of course she wouldn't. Jennifer Cordell isn't that sort. But the fear still lives in my chest like a cold stone.
"I know you wouldn't do that," I admit quietly. "But knowing something logically and feeling it emotionally are two different things entirely."
She shifts closer, her bare leg sliding between mine. "Then let me prove it to you. Day by day. Month by month."
The simplicity of her offer undoes the knot in my stomach. "You don't need to prove anything to me. But want to prove that I trust and respect you as more than a nanny."
"I fell in love with all of you, Fletcher. The father, the children, this chaotic beautiful life we've built together. I'm not going anywhere."
My breath catches. "You love me?"
She taps my nose with one finger, smiling sweetly. "Did I not mention that last night when you had me screaming your name?"
"You might have been a bit incoherent at the time.
" I grin, rolling her onto her back. "I believe I was saying something along the lines of 'Oh Fletcher, yes, right there, don't stop, oh my god, I love you and your dick too.
'" She mimics her own breathless voice, then dissolves into laughter.
"Not exactly a Shakespearean declaration of love. "
I lean down and brush my lips against hers. "Say it again. Properly this time."
Her smile softens. "I love you, Fletcher Murgatroyd. Every grumpy, gorgeous, devoted inch of you."
And that's when it happens. The dam inside me bursts. "I love you too, Jennifer. Have done since the day we met."
"Same for me. Never experienced love at first sight before, so is took me awhile to accept my feelings."
I kiss her feverishly, as she smiles against my lips. The heat between us builds again as if it will never cool down completely. Though our lust has reignited, instead of making love again, we pull on our night clothes and spend another hour just talking and laughing.
Yes, I do love Jennifer---and she loves me.
That means I should tell the children that their nanny has become my girlfriend. How will they react? I especially worry about Amelia. My eldest has always been the most protective of our family unit. She's taken on far too much responsibility since her mother left.
I frown at the ceiling. "Amelia will be the hardest to convince. She adores you, but switching from nanny to girlfriend might be a difficult transition."
Jennifer sighs. "I know. Amelia is a smart girl, and she's going to think I've betrayed her trust. She's fifteen, Fletcher. Everything is a catastrophe at that age."
I kiss Jennifer's forehead. "We'll need to be careful when we tell them. Start with the younger ones first. Prepare the ground before we tackle Amelia. Henry would be the most likely to think it's wonderful that you and I are a couple."
Jennifer nods. "Yeah, I agree."
"Charlotte's too young to understand the nuances, so she'll need special treatment." I gnaw on my lip while I contemplate the other children. "Joshua might be a problem. He already has a slight crush on you, but it isn't anything serious. He loves your waffles more than more than anything else."
"That leaves Amelia." Jennifer's voice grows quieter. "I don't want to lose her trust, Fletcher. We've built something special."
I pull Jennifer closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. "We'll find a way. Together."
That word hangs between us. Together. It feels both terrifying and exhilarating. Then my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I groan, reaching for it blindly. "If that's work, I swear to god---"
"It's your mother," Jennifer says, peering at the screen. "She's sent a text."
I squint at the screen. My mother's message is typically cryptic: Boys having wonderful time. Made pancakes shaped like dinosaurs. Henry ate seven. Joshua complained they weren't scientifically accurate. Ring you later.
Jennifer read my Mum's text too. I told her she should.
I shake my head, setting the phone aside. "Henry would eat dinosaur-shaped cardboard if you put syrup on it."
Jennifer laughs. "And Joshua would write a dissertation on why the stegosaurus plates are anatomically incorrect."
"Exactly." I kiss the top of her head. "At least they're having fun. That gives us more time to mull over how to break this news without causing a family revolt."
Jennifer traces lazy circles on my chest. "Maybe we're overthinking it. Children are more resilient than we give them credit for."
She's right, and I'm sure everything will work out with the children.