10. ISABELLA
ten
“Papi,” Anna yells as she leaps off the back of the couch and into her father’s waiting arms.
The same muscular arms I haven’t been able to scrub from my brain since last night.
Basilic veins.
Yes, I googled what those stupid forearm veins were last night after I tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity.
I thought for sure I would be awoken by building security, requesting my immediate evacuation. On the grounds of, I don’t know, indecent exposure? Grotesque ogling of Mateo’s abs? World’s most inappropriate and ratty pj’s?
I’m not sure, but I definitely feel guilty of something .
This morning was so awkward for me, especially because he acted as if nothing happened. Which made me feel crazy and second-guess whether last night was as bad as I made it out to be in my head.
But the slow glide of his gaze over my body as he holds Anna tells me maybe I’m not.
Since I’m not one to make the same mistake twice, I’m currently wearing a long-sleeve flannel pajama top and matching leggings that are four months too early for Christmas, given their red and black checkered pattern. But there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever be caught airing out my lady bits again.
Then why am I heating up under his inspection as if I’m wearing nothing at all?
Flannel. It’s the fucking flannel, of course.
He sets her down but keeps his eyes set on me. “How was dinner? Sorry I’m late. I had to chat with my coach before I was done for the day.”
“Dinner was great. Your chef is really talented. I never knew someone could make cauliflower tasty enough for a five-year-old’s palate.”
Anna beams proudly up at him, clad in a stylish pair of pajamas that she had to wear as soon as she saw that I’d changed into mine.
“Sounds great. And, uh, did you eat your portion as well? I asked the chef to include your meals in this week’s schedule.”
I roll my lips as I go over his words. Is he trying to make sure I’m fed so that we don’t have a repeat of last night? Or is he trying to remind me that only this week of work is guaranteed for me?
Either way, I straighten and answer honestly. “Yes, I did. Thank you for that. You really don’t have to keep feeding me.” I shut my mouth tightly, hoping Anna didn’t catch on to my slip. “I mean, I work for you, not the other way around. I’m more than capable of taking care of my needs. Really, don’t worry. I’m of no concern to you.”
He takes a step closer to the couch, but I make no attempt to stand from the spot I’m perched on. It wouldn’t make a difference; this man would tower over me anyway. He lowers his voice as he says, “I take care of the people under my roof, Isabella. So I guess that means, for the time being, that your needs are of my concern.”
I let out a shaky breath at the same time that Anna shouts about having to get something from her room and promises to be right back, leaving Mateo and me at a standstill.
As much as I can’t explain what’s come over me lately…
Liar. He’s a hot, successful, single dad whose love for his daughter could inspire Hallmark movies, while his mouth and body leave me aching every time we’re in the same room together.
I clear my throat, hoping subtitles of my thoughts aren’t magically floating over my head.
“Mateo, I’m sorry about last night.”
“Isa—”
“Please let me finish,” I plead. He nods once. “Look, last night, when your mom invited me to sit for dinner, I thought it was some kind of test or something. That I should know better than to intrude on your family time, since you made it crystal clear that this home is your sanctuary and once my duties as Anna’s nanny are complete, I should make myself as scarce as possible.”
He sighs. “I didn’t mean—”
“Mira, I wasn’t finished,” I snap in a way that’s eerily similar to how my mom did any time I dared to interrupt adults while they spoke. I grimace as I realize I just scolded my boss. But if the slight upturn of his lip is any indication, I might have enough wiggle room to finish pleading my case. “Sorry about that. But as I was saying, I was only trying not to mess up on the very first night. And since there was nothing left to do for Anna, I sequestered myself to my room. Which, I promise, under any other circumstance, would be the dream for me. Since I love snuggling under the covers with a million pillows propped up as I read my Kindle and… you really didn’t need to know all of that.” I take a deep breath as I try to steer this conversation somewhere remotely to where it was meant to go.
“All this to say, I promise not to be prowling around at night while trying to score some of your food. And I promise to wear better, um, bedtime garments?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” He smirks.
I try, but probably fail, at giving him a slight glare. “I wasn’t sure if I should call these pajamas, so that’s what I went with.” I wave at my current outfit.
His eyes take another unnecessary voyage down every inch of my body. “Well, you can sure call them something. How about Santa’s little helper?”
For a moment, I’m left speechless, until a surprised laugh escapes my mouth. “Did you just… make a joke, Martinez ?”
His eyebrows shoot up at the use of his last name. “We on the field now or something, Morales ?”
I smile widely. For the first time ever, Mateo and I are having a real conversation, and it’s a very friendly one.
Emphasis on the friend, you little hooch .
I quickly remind myself before I do something stupid to ruin this moment, like ask to see his abs one more time.
“Well, we are a team now, aren’t we? And that’s what your teammates call you.”
He nods pensively. After a few moments, Anna shouts for her father to come to her room since she needs help bringing something downstairs.
Without another word, he turns and makes his way up the stairs.
I settle back into the plush couch and grin to myself. I actually did it. I think Mateo and I can overcome whatever weirdness there was between us all this time.
Just as I hear his heavy footsteps hit the second floor, he yells, “Hey, Morales.”
“Yeah?” I turn, knowing there’s nothing he can say to wipe the satisfied smirk off my face.
“That first strike still stands.”