CHAPTER SEVEN
It’s mid-morning when I step out onto the porch in search of my daughter and her new sidekick.
They’ve been busy doing who knows what while I’ve been handling Chance’s latest fuck-up at the auction barn.
I spy them under the large oak, the bare branches doing little to block the fierce wind.
Frankie is sitting on the cold ground as Ronnie skips in a circle, pretending to pat invisible heads.
“Duck, duck, duck,” my little girl chimes. Her bouncy gait continues until she reaches her nanny. “Gray duck!”
Ronnie takes off at a sprint, squealing her excitement. A low groan escapes from the other player. My lips roll between my teeth to trap a chuckle. The woman is in her early twenties and struggling to get up off the frozen grass. It’s clear she’s reaching her limit.
And not just from hours of keeping up with Ronnie. The pair is bundled up against the late November chill. Frankie’s cheeks are noticeably red and not in the bashful shade I’d prefer to see.
“Hey, Ronnie,” I call across the yard. “Time to come in for a snack.”
“Yipppppeeeeee!” my daughter cheers. She grabs Frankie’s arm and practically drags her toward the house. “C’mon, Frannie. Daddy is gonna feed us.”
Laughter bursts out of me at hearing her nickname for the surly ex-con. Except this isn’t the same badass who swung herself out of the back of a squad car. There are no sharp edges to be found at the moment. She’s been worn down into a flimsy shape from Ronnie running all over her.
My little girl ditches her exhausted nanny to run full speed at me. I bend and scoop her into my arms, swinging us around. Her carefree giggle is pure joy. My chest expands as I try to recall the last time I heard it.
“Are you having fun, cupcake?”
Her small but mighty arms squeeze me tighter. “Yes! This is the best day everrrrrrrr!”
Emotion burns my eyes and I bury my face in her jacket, soaking in this moment. “That’s really great to hear.”
“We found her, Daddy.” There’s awe in her voice. “Now she’s taking my sadness away.”
I get choked up, struggling to breathe normally over the lump in my throat. “My sweet girl. I love you so much.”
“Love you too, Daddy. Gotta wash my hands!” And then she’s pulling away to race through the front door.
While I compose myself, Frankie relies heavily on the railing to help her up the porch stairs. She’s going to need something stronger than coffee and fruit when the working day is done.
I hitch a thumb in the direction Ronnie went. “You’re receiving high praise, little menace.”
“Better be. I can’t feel my legs.” The redhead trudges along as if there’s concrete in her boots.
It’s a challenge to smother my smirk. “Rough morning?”
Green flames threaten bodily harm when she glares at me. “You should be a detective.”
“Somebody needs to take a load off.” I guide her inside, swerving from the foyer to the kitchen.
Frankie drags the wool hat off her head, leaving her hair a mess. Her coat is unzipped next and gets carelessly tossed on the table. A pained groan wheezes from her chapped lips as she lowers herself onto a stool. She slumps across the granite island like it’s a pillowy mattress.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“You’re right. It’s worse,” she whines.
“How about that,” I chuckle. “Didn’t think a five-year-old had the power to take you out.”
“She’s superhuman.”
And showing off her bottomless pit of energy by running down the hall, waving her hands wildly in the air. “All clean!”
Which prompts me to open the fridge. “Cheese and crackers?”
“Yummy in my tummy!” Ronnie leaps onto the seat beside Frankie. “Are you hungry?”
The reluctant nanny forces herself to sit upright. “I’m too tired to eat.”
My daughter frowns. “Do you need more coffee?”
“Always,” Frankie mumbles.
I pause the snack prep to pour her a fresh cup, sliding it across the counter. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
She curls her upper lip at the plain dark roast I brewed. “Thanks.”
“Problem?”
“Nope.” She sips from the mug, her swallow audible purely for my benefit. “Hits the spot like a cold sore.”
Ronnie sighs. “This is boring. Oh, oh! Frannie, let’s have a Barbie pool party.”
The redhead blinks at her through bleary eyes. “How about a nap?”
“What? No.” Her giggle mocks the suggestion. “That’s silly.”
“I’m not cut out for this,” Frankie grumbles under her breath.
My smirk takes great pleasure in her misery. “Where are the scissors that’ll snip you free?”
She glares at me, but it lacks her usual wrath. “I misplaced them somewhere between Ronnie’s dentist office and the ball pit.”
“Frannie,” my little girl whines. “I wanna keep playing.”
“She needs a break,” I say gently. “And you have to eat.”
Ronnie bounces off her stool. “M’kay.”
Frankie’s jaw drops when my daughter twirls to the table.
She pulls out a chair, plopping down in her usual spot.
Our typical routine has gone a bit sideways, but there’s always time for snacks.
I choke on a laugh while delivering her plate and a glass of milk.
Ronnie doesn’t hesitate to dig in, clearly ravenous after a morning full of activities.
“Thanks, Daddy.” My little girl gives her approval with a double thumbs-up.
“You’re welcome, cupcake.” There’s an added pep in my step as I return to the kitchen, facing the redhead who’s busy stammering.
“How…? What…?” Frankie rubs her temples. “Did you arrange the cheese and crackers into a smiley face?”
“Ronnie appreciates the added effort I put into the presentation.”
Her dazed stare is comical. “Who even are you?”
I scrub over my mouth, exhaling heavily. “We’re not opening that box. My backstory isn’t your business.”
“If I’m taking this job, I want to know who I’m working for.”
That gets a bullish snort from me. “Strong morals and dependable character traits are suddenly important to you?”
Frankie’s temper rebounds with a snarl. “I’d rather be freed from this forced arrangement. What’s it gonna take for you to let me go?”
“A trial period. Prove that you’re as shit at the job as you keep claiming.”
She flips a section of matted hair over her shoulder. “Easy enough.”
I narrow my eyes. “Not on purpose.”
“Believe it or not, I’m trying to be good for her. I just suck at this.” The fight leaves her on a weary exhale.
It’s not in my nature to compliment her, but this is unavoidable. “I haven’t seen my daughter look this happy in months. That’s all you.”
Frankie sucks in a sharp breath, her gaze sliding to where Ronnie is playing with her food before eating it. “Really? She seems so… resilient. Like nothing could slow her down.”
A sour gurgle roils in my gut while I reflect on the struggles my daughter has gone through recently.
“We hit a rough patch. There were days she’d barely speak or leave her room.
I wasn’t sure what it would take to pull her out of it.
Then you showed up like the missing piece to the puzzle.
She clung to you and asked you to be her mommy for a reason.
That little girl sees something special in you.
I’d recommend you don’t turn your back on it. ”
This tough woman suddenly looks terrified, which has nothing to do with Ronnie finishing her snack. “Ohhhh, no. No, no, no. Don’t put that pressure on me. It was a matter of convenience.”
I chuckle, but it’s humorless. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, menace.”
“You’re just trying to get me to stay.”
My nod is automatic. “Her happiness is all that matters to me. You can’t leave yet. Give it a chance.”
“Won’t that traumatize her even more? She’ll get attached and then it will be worse when I leave. If I go now, it’ll be a cleaner break.”
I scoff. “It’s obvious you don’t know Ronnie well, but you’re going to.”
Her focus shifts to where my little girl is sprawled out on the living room floor, mimicking the motions for a snow angel. “I don’t get much of a choice, huh?”
“If you really don’t want to stay, that’s fine. We’ll figure it out. She might forget about you eventually. But the scar of your abandonment will last forever. Don’t do that to her.”
“Ouch,” Frankie hisses. “You pack a mean punch.”
“Trust me,” I drawl. “I wish she idolized anyone else. But that’s not the case. We’re stuck in this together. Might as well try and get along.”
She groans and thumps her forehead on the granite. “Quit trying to sweet talk me.”
My lips twitch. “Wouldn’t dare flirt with the nanny.”
Her gaze searches mine, digging deeper than I prefer. “I can’t believe you convinced me to be her nanny.”
“You’ll stay?”
“For now,” she hedges.
A smirk slants my mouth. “Gotta say I’m surprised.”
“About accepting my fate?”
“Didn’t take you for a doormat. You’re letting Ronnie run all over you. She’ll take advantage as long as you let her.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“Tell her no. At the very least, you can compromise. She’s not going to cry if you need a moment to breathe.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mutters. “I can’t find it in my ice-cold heart to deny her.”
“You’ll find a happy medium.”
Frankie sighs, glancing out the window as if still planning an escape. “We need to discuss my hours. I can’t be on the clock twenty-four-seven.”
“Wondering how long it would take.” I grab a set of keys and slide them across the counter. “For the house and your car.”
She glares at the fob. “I don’t have a car.”
“It’s an employee perk.”
“How thoughtful.” Her cutting tone suggests the opposite.
I straighten to my full height. “You’ll be driving Ronnie around. She isn’t allowed on your motorcycle.”
“Speaking of, where’s my bike?”
“In the garage. One of the guys dropped it off earlier.”
“One of the guys,” Frankie repeats. “There better not be a scratch on her.”
My features harden. “I’m not careless.”
She wrinkles her nose. “But you’re granting me access to the palace.”
“It’s not my finest decision, but Bianca and Colton vouched for you. Mostly. And again, it’s for taking care of Ronnie.”
“Of course.”
I study her in silence for a moment. My gaze rakes over her disheveled appearance. Frankie could’ve taken off easily enough, but chose to stick around. That tells me more than her snarky retorts.
My head cocks to the side. “Can I trust you?”
“No.”
Gruff laughter rumbles from me. “At least you’re honest.”
She inspects her chipped nails. “Wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m not gonna keep you on a leash. Just do right by Ronnie. That’s all I ask.”
“Message received.” She goes quiet again, skewering me with her laser focus. “Don’t let this inflate your ego, but you’re a really good dad.” The pinch in her features makes it look like that’s painful to admit.
“I’m just a dad.”
Frankie shoots me a flat stare. “I’ve met my fair share of crappy ones—my own sperm donor very much included—which makes me somewhat of an expert. Take my word for it. You’re a good dad.”
Warmth spreads through me, but that’s from the heat kicking on. “Now who’s trying to be sweet?”
“Meh.” She waves off my words. “It’s just an act so you’ll lower your guard. I’m crooked like that.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say.
“So I’ve heard.”
A thought occurs to me, growing roots meant to last. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
Frankie cackles, losing herself to a one-sided joke. “Very funny.”
“How about Christmas?”
She wipes unshed tears from her lashes. “Just me, myself, and I singing carols that have lost their cheer.”
“You’ve got us now. We’ll celebrate together.”
“Doesn’t that cross a line?”
“As if you’re concerned about boundaries.”
“I’m worried about confusing your child,” she retorts.
Which gets me thinking. “Has Ronnie asked you to be her mom?”
“Not today, but it’s still early.”
That’s somewhat of a relief. “Well, you’re already living with us. Ronnie will want you at our table for family meals. We just have to make your position clear. It might take time, but she’ll learn to accept it.”
A loud snort spews from her. “I’m still not intruding on your holiday traditions.”
“Who says we have any?”
“There’s no way you’re convincing me the Benson clan doesn’t go all out.”
Memories rush over me in a cold wave. “It hasn’t felt the same since my mom left. And after Marion’s passing, I’m not sure what the rest of them are doing.”
Frankie flinches at the mention of my aunt’s death. It was a brain aneurysm. Killed her instantly. Her absence created a hole that the town and our family will never recover from. But we do our best to live each day like it’s our last, the way she would’ve wanted.
Which involves creating new traditions.
“Nothing fancy,” I mumble. “Hope that’s okay with you.”
The redhead rolls her eyes. “Nope. You’ve lost me. Caviar and champagne or I walk.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Her smile almost appears genuine. “Let’s circle back to my hours before you rope me into anything else.”
As if I’m including her for my benefit. “Ronnie has school from nine until four. I need you to drop her off in the morning. The bus brings her home in the afternoon, but you have to be at the road to get her or they won’t let her off.
Other than that, it’s flexible. Jot down a schedule you can commit to. ”
Her wary expression scrutinizes mine. “Am I getting paid?”
A slimy wriggle turns my stomach. “Assume what you will, but I don’t expect you to work for free. How does a thousand a week sound?”
She sputters. “What?”
My palms lift to stave off her upset. “Didn’t mean to offend you. Can we agree on two thousand?”
Frankie’s mouth works silently for several seconds. “You must be joking.”
“I won’t go higher until you prove yourself.”
She gapes at me. “It’s too much already!”
“My daughter’s safety and happiness are priceless. You’re responsible for both.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Let me get this straight.” She pauses to gather her thoughts again. “You’re giving me a place to stay, a car to drive, and freedom to roam while also paying me two thousand dollars a week?”
“For taking care of Ronnie,” I reiterate. “I’ll shadow you for the first month or so to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“And until you’re sure this isn’t a mistake.” Her tone is rolling its eyes.
“Like I’ve said, don’t fuck it up.”
She rubs her temples. “This sounds… too good to be true.”
“I’m not trying to trick you.”
“Says the man who had the cops deliver me to him personally.”
“Still mad about that?”
She leans forward and lowers her voice. “Until I return the favor.”
Flames lick down my spine, gathering in my groin. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”
Her nod is slow, but absolute. “I might be a sucker for your daughter, but don’t mistake me for a fool. I’ll never be anything other than the nanny.”
“Says the woman who had her hands all over me.”
“To prove a point,” she grinds out through clenched teeth.
“Same here.” I push away from counter, leaving her to it. “But you can’t deny the truth.”
Frankie quirks a brow. “And what might that be?”
“We’re a match made in mayhem, menace.”