A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

HUDSON

A fter showering, I wrap a towel around my waist. My body aches from the relentless manual labor of the day, and I might regret the hours I spent chopping wood.

The fireplace, the woodshed, and the garage are all fully stocked. This should last us through November, as long as we don’t encounter any freak snowstorms, but caution is always wise.

The blade of a sharp ax cuts through my frustrations, even if only momentarily. As a stressed and upset teenager, I would chop wood relentlessly on weekends to keep my mind busy.

Chopping requires both physical and mental focus, leaving no space for thoughts about anything or anyone else. I'm sure Lucas noticed my behavior, but he didn’t comment on it.

As I enter my bedroom, I glance out the panoramic windows facing the backyard. The sun hangs lazily in the evening sky, casting a golden-brown hue over everything—the grass, the trees, and the light filtering through the branches.

Night will fall soon, Colby will be home, and I still haven't decided what to do about tomorrow. Keeping him home is the only logical choice, but I know he will resent every moment of it. I’ll sort it out.

Once dressed, my eyes fall on the silly T-Rex in tennis shoes on my dresser, a gift from Emma for Colby.

I met her briefly a few months ago, and that day remains etched in my memory. Her dark red hair swayed in the summer breeze as she met my gaze with a warm smile. Our eyes lingered a moment too long, and in that instant, my world shifted. She left after a few days as if running from something.

My trauma whispers it was me .

I realized then that she was a dangerous temptation. I had almost convinced myself she was just a figment of my imagination until yesterday.

I shake my head, desperate to rid my thoughts of her, but it feels nearly impossible.

Instead of wrestling with myself, I slide on my boots. Stepping onto the porch, I shove my hands into my pockets and inhale the fresh air. I gaze into the woods, where she was watching me.

Emma already can’t resist me, and she hasn’t even had a real taste of what I have to offer.

A part of me wants to know her, the real her, because the online persona is curated bullshit. That version of Emma Manchester doesn’t intrigue me. No one can be that cheerful or enthusiastic about everything—not even Little Miss Sunshine. Yet, somehow, she manages it.

Damn it.

I’m battling myself, questioning if what I felt last night was just the result of too much tequila. Deep down, I know it wasn’t. The third time’s a charm, right?

I should walk back inside, eat leftovers, and forget about everything, but... I know she’s at Jake’s house waiting for me, secretly hoping to see me.

With determination, I step off the porch. Once in my truck, I back out of the driveway with more purpose than I’ve felt in a long time.

What the hell am I doing?

Jake lives five minutes away, but I slowly take the gravel road, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as I replay being with her last night. Watching her squirm after not getting her way was oddly satisfying.

Emma isn’t accustomed to rejection, and I almost hated being the one to deny her. But she needs to learn a lesson—cheap shots won’t work with me. She's smarter than that, and I’m too damn old for childish games. My motto is: say what you mean and mean what you say, which is why I don’t say much.

I'm craving her like she’s my new addiction.

Lucas is already here. His dirt bike is parked next to the porch.

After taking a deep breath, I enter the house.

Emma and Claire stand in the kitchen, laughing, while Lucas and Jake sit on bar stools across from them. They glance my way when the door snaps shut.

“Am I interrupting a double date?” I ask, unimpressed.

Emma looks at Lucas, but my gaze is fixed on her.

“You are,” Lucas replies. Cocky bastard.

I can't tell if Emma's laughter is directed at him or if she’s laughing with him. Our eye contact lingers, something common between us. But it quickly grows too intense.

“Glad you made it,” Jake says, pulling my attention away from Emma. “We were just getting started.”

A bell jingles behind me, and I turn to see Tinsel prancing toward me. She sits at my feet and paws at my jeans, digging her claws into the fabric. Bending down, I pick her up and hold her as everyone grabs bowls for chili.

“Hey, baby girl,” I say, kissing Tinsel's furry forehead. She purrs and leans into me. “Want to finally come home with your real daddy?”

“For the last time, you're not catnapping Tinsel. I found her first,” Jake warns over his shoulder. I've teased him about stealing her for thirteen years, and if he weren't so attached, I probably would. There’s a reason he only trusts me to watch her when he travels with Claire.

“You love me more than him, don't you?” I ask, and she paws at my jaw. “Sweet girl.”

“Tinsel! Attack!” Jake calls out, retrieving an extra bowl from the cabinet for me.

“You're so cute,” I say, holding her tightly against my chest.

After a few minutes of snuggling, I set her down and she promptly attacks my leg. Things need to be on her terms or she gets angry. “Hey! I have to eat. I'm starving.”

The furry ball gives me a death glare as she flicks her tail and prances away. Jake chuckles and takes a seat on the stool next to Claire.

“Come on. Come eat while it's hot. We have cheese, sour cream, and cornbread. All we're missing is a dozen chewy chocolate chip pecan cookies,” Jake says, grabbing spoons.

I narrow my eyes. “Then you should’ve made some.”

“Hm. Maybe you should've?” he quips.

I know what he's hinting at. My brother is convinced that I bake when I’m in love. Maybe I do, but I haven’t made those cookies since before Colby was born. “Don’t think so.”

“Actually, ooey gooey chocolate chip pecan cookies are my favorite,” Emma sings.

“Maybe you can ask Santa for some,” Claire replies. “Not sure if Hudson can deliver.”

I tune them out as I ladle several scoops of hearty chili into my bowl. The aroma of onions and large chunks of garlic is heavenly. “Mawmaw's recipe?” I inquire.

“You know it.”

Lucas sits next to Emma, and I hear her giggle. A pang of jealousy hits me—an emotion I haven't felt in years—and I tense up.

Jake clears his throat. “I brought Granny a big bowl about thirty minutes ago, and she said it was perfect.”

“Suck-up,” Lucas shoots back.

“I can't help being her absolute favorite grandson,” Jake brags.

“She told me I was her favorite first.” I add the fixings to my food before taking the stool in front of Emma. When I look up, she's staring at me.

“Grandma is super excited to meet Emma,” Jake explains.

“She'll adore you,” Claire adds. “And she'll probably try to hook you up with one of these goons.”

Lucas winks at Emma, and I roll my eyes, focusing on my food. He's relentless and trying too hard. It reeks of desperation.

“Heard you needed help with Colby tomorrow,” Jake notes, keeping the conversation flowing.

I glare at Lucas, wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth. His brow raises as he gives me a cheeky grin.

“I'm glad to know I was the subject of your conversation,” I say, setting down my spoon. It's hard to be angry when I know they mean well. “But I have it under control.”

It's a lie, and my brothers see right through it. They tend to know when I'm putting on a front. It’s hard for me to ask for help, and I prefer solving my problems alone. I never want to be a burden.

“What happened?” Emma asks, concern evident in her tone.

I lick my lips, focusing on the meat and melted cheese in my bowl.

“Donna's moving,” Lucas answers.

“What?” Claire turns to me.

Emma glances back and forth between us, unaware of my life.

“Who's Donna?” she asks, a faint tremor in her voice.

I meet her gaze.

“She was Hudson’s nanny,” Lucas mumbles, chewing a large piece of cornbread. Crumbs fall from his mouth; he has forgotten his manners around a lady, and I give him a disapproving look.

“Aww, you needed a nanny? To make sure you were behaving?” Emma jokes with a playful smirk on her face.

“Smartass,” I mumble.

“What does that mean for tomorrow?” Jake asks.

“Look.” I finish chewing and wipe my mouth. “I appreciate your concern, but I've got this under control.”

“What does 'under control' mean?” Lucas presses.

“It means to shut the fuck up and mind your own business,” I snap, having had enough of him for the night.

“I'd be happy to help,” Emma offers.

“No, thank you.”

Her brows furrow. “Why not?”

“Have you ever seen a nearly five-year-old throw tantrums like they're getting paid a million dollars for each one?”

“No, but?—“

“My answer stands. Now, can we please talk about something else? Like how I’m stealing Tinsel when I leave here tonight.”

Jake bursts out laughing. “I’ll kill you.”

Emma clears her throat. “We’re not changing the subject. You didn’t let me finish. I’m great with kids, okay? I’ve taken care of a very spoiled two-and-a-half-year-old who has zero manners. Hanging out with Colby would be fun.”

Claire smiles and nods in agreement. It's not that I don't trust Emma, but I feel protective. She’s a total stranger.

“No means no,” I say, focusing on my food.

Emma glances at Claire, who gives her a slight shrug.

A minute passes in silence, with only the sound of metal utensils clinking against glass bowls.

“So, you two are going on a date next Saturday?” Claire asks Lucas.

“Yep,” he replies, playfully elbowing Emma. “I had to beg her, but she finally agreed. We're gonna have fun.”

She licks her lips, her brow arching. “If you say so.”

I see how she looks at him, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s faking it. But I don’t know.

“Great. I guess we’re planning two weddings next year?” I take a big bite of my chili.

Lucas needs to step it up if he wants to convince me. I can see right through him—he’s trying to make me jealous.

“Maybe before Jake and Claire,” he quickly adds. “We’ll see how next weekend goes. Apparently, I’m easy to fall in love with,” he warns Emma.

“Can’t wait,” Emma replies. “I already told my besties about you.”

“Hm,” I grumble, not buying any of it.

Emma’s brow furrows. “What was that hm for?”

“Wish you both the best.”

Jake starts chatting about the weather while Claire shares the design of her latest snow globe for the shop. The prototype is incredible.

When Emma glances my way again, I choose to ignore her. I've confirmed that the alcohol wasn’t responsible for last night's behavior. It’s the two of us together. Emma Manchester is a rip current threatening to pull me under.

Something simmers between us, and the thin crust of the earth beneath me seems to crack. She’ll drag me down to the depths if I let her, destroying every part of me that remains. I can't allow that to happen.

After scraping the last bite from my bowl, I wipe my mouth, knowing I need to leave. Emma stands as well.

“I’ll take your bowl,” I offer.

“No, thanks.” She turns on her heels toward the sink.

I take Claire’s and Lucas's dishes while Jake finishes eating.

I go to the sink and move the spigot toward me.

“Excuse me?” she says, returning it to its original position. “I haven’t finished rinsing.”

“I'll take care of it.”

“No means no,” she mimics, using the same tone I used earlier.

I pause, wiping my hands on a dish towel, and turn my full attention to her. “Is this what you want?”

“I want you to stop,” she whisper-hisses, giving me the dirtiest look. I've offended her. I've made her mad. Maybe that's for the best; perhaps pushing her away will actually work.

“Be specific.” My gaze remains locked on her, and she doesn't seem to mind. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, exposing the softness of her neck, and I notice her pulse quickening.

As I take her in, my chest tightens. Maybe we could have worked out if circumstances had been different.

“Stop staring at me,” she snaps.

“Make me,” I reply quietly.

The hint of her sweet perfume is intoxicating.

Another silent conversation unfolds between us.

I can almost see the gears turning in her mind as she tries to figure me out. Unfortunately, she never will. I'm not like anyone she’s ever encountered. That much is certain.

“You're...”

“Go on,” I encourage.

“ Frustrating .”

I grin. “Thank you.”

After raising a toddler, my patience is unbreakable, and I have nothing but time. Emma dries her hands on a rag before tossing it on the counter.

She shoots me a death glare.

“You're playing games,” she mutters under her breath, loud enough for only me to hear.

“You're projecting,” I say, grabbing the scrubber and turning away from her. She walks off as Jake sets his bowl in the sink. I spray it out.

“Thanks,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “You good?”

“Never been better,” I tell him. “Dinner was great. Thanks for the invite.”

“I'm glad you actually came.” Jake reaches into the fridge for a beer and offers me one, but I decline. “I didn't expect to see you, though. What changed?”

“Mom kept Colby for dinner, so I thought, why not? Plus, I love Mawmaw's chili recipe.”

“Any other reason?”

“What reason would that be?” I raise an eyebrow as he fills containers with food. “Share what's on your mind.”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.”

“I don't.” It's easier to play dumb. I lower my voice and glance over my shoulder. “Can everyone stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Trying to play matchmaker.”

He shakes his head. “I'm not.”

I can't tell if he's being honest or not. “It feels like you're pushing. That's never going to happen.”

“Why not?”

Claire and Emma share a laugh with Lucas.

“Not my type.”

“Bullshit. Next.”

“Too young,” I reply.

He rolls his eyes.

“I'm not ready for a relationship. You know that's the truth.”

“That sounds like an excuse. Give me the real reason.”

I stare at him.

“I'm a curse to women, Jake. Every woman who's been with me has...”

He takes a long pull from his beer and moves closer. “Meredith leaving wasn't your fault.”

My jaw clenches. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

“I'm not playing matchmaker, but I think the two of you would be great together. You have a lot in common—unlike that fake shit between her and Lucas.”

I laugh. “Glad you see through it as well.”

“Painfully obvious.”

I glance at the time and need to leave before Mom drops off Colby. “I should probably get going.”

“Yeah, it's getting kinda late, and we have to be up early,” he replies.

Nodding, I pat his back. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“No problem. Want me to bring you some for lunch?”

“Absolutely.” I dry my hands. “You spoil me.”

As I walk past the breakfast bar, I announce my departure.

Claire hugs me goodbye. “Make sure to squeeze Colby for me.”

“I will.”

Lucas waves at me, but Emma doesn't look my way again. She's glued to her phone.

“Well, I hope you all have a good night. Come on, Tinsel,” I say with a laugh. Jake shoots me the middle finger.

As I close the door behind me, I realize just how fucked I am.

Emma Manchester is intoxicating, and I have to get the thoughts of her out of my head. It's for the best, or at least that's what I'll tell myself until I believe it is true.

It's for her own good. Right?