A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

HUDSON

TWO DAYS LATER

“ C olby, what do you say?” I tilt my head, curious about his thoughts.

“Nice meetin' ya, ma'am,” he tells Heather, slamming his face into the couch.

He's tapped out for the day, and I'm thankful that this is the final interview. We started at ten this morning and have talked to at least nine ladies, each one bringing a different personality into our home, filling the air with their laughter and hopes.

I walk her to the door, my mind already racing with considerations. “I'll make a decision tomorrow before noon. I'll only call you if you're hired, okay?”

“I hope to hear from you.” She blinks up at me, her big, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.

“Thanks,” I awkwardly say, and as she bends down to wave at Colby, who's dramatically playing dead. I can’t help but smile at their interaction.

“Bye, Colby,” she says, sweetly.

He lifts his arm in a half-hearted wave but doesn’t even bother to look at her. When I shut the door behind her, I cross my arms over my chest and settle beside him on the couch.

“Sit up. That was rude.”

With a huff that rumbles through his small frame, he does as I say, but he’s clinging to his stubbornness.

“Thank you. Now, who did you like the best?” I ask, trying to pull him out of his funk.

He squishes his face dramatically and holds his fingers together to form a zero.

“Oh, come on. They all seemed really nice. Heather was great.”

“She talked to me like a baby.” His face scrunches like he’s offended.

“Son, I think that's just her voice,” I explain patiently. “People can't help how they sound.”

He shakes his head adamantly, brown curls bouncing. “Dad, they were all so weird. Every one of them!”

I try to hold back a laugh, his honesty is refreshing, but he's right. It felt less like an interview and more like… well, an interview before a first date. Each lady had dressed up, trying to impress, but it was hard to imagine any of them getting down and dirty with Colby in the yard, building castles out of leaves and mud.

“We'll pick the perfect nanny. Okay?” I reassure him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Do better, Dad.” His little face, serious and determined, is enough to make me scoff in mock offense.

“Can we call Donna?” he adds, his hope for a familiar face evident.

Before we can continue our conversation, the door swings open with a sudden swoosh. When I turn my head, expecting to see my mother, I’m surprised to find Emma standing there.

She lifts her huge sunglasses from her eyes with one hand while balancing a shopping bag in the other. We haven't seen her since the night she moved in; she's been busy helping Claire in the shop.

“Emma!” Colby yells, his face lighting up with pure excitement. “I missed you!” Without hesitation, he pops up off the couch and dashes toward her, arms wide, squeezing her tight.

“Aww, I've missed you, too! So, so much!” she coos, patting his back as he burrows into her side. She glances down at him, then back at me. “I got you the coolest thing today after helping Aunt CeCe.”

“Ohh,” he whispers, bouncing from foot to foot as they waddle over to the couch. She hands him the bag, and I watch as confusion washes over his face.

“What is it? I don't get it?” He shifts his weight, eyes darting between her and the bag.

Emma settles onto the couch, their eyes locking in an eager connection.

“It's magic!” she announces with a dramatic flair, tapping her finger on the packaging. “These tiny little capsules will grow into dinosaurs this big.” She holds her fingers out, spacing them apart about three inches.

“Woooow.” His eyes widen, fully captivated by her. Hell, I am, too; the way she lights up while describing it is infectious.

“I was thinking we could use them at bath time!” Emma adds, excitement lacing her voice, and Colby's face instantly breaks into a grin, his earlier disinterest forgotten in this new adventure.

There it is. I narrow my eyes at her, realizing she has found the perfect solution to a temporary phase. “Smart,” I mutter, a touch of admiration in my voice.

Colby pulls several shiny capsules out of the bag, his excitement radiating through the room.

“All of these are for me?” he squeaks, his eyes sparkling as he circles the living room like she handed him a million dollars. “Can I take a bath right now?”

Emma shakes her head, her grin never wavering. “Not yet. Only when your dad says you can.” She moves in close to him, her presence inviting, and his eyes widen as he looks up at her as if she’s an angel. She is . “You have to promise to show me which dinosaurs hatched, okay?”

“I will! I promise!” His voice is filled with uncontainable glee.

I clear my throat. “Okay, Bee. I think I hear Mimi pulling up right now.”

“When I get home, I get to take a bath?” Colby's eagerness is palpable.

I chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through me. “You're staying with Mimi tonight, remember? Pizza slumber party?”

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up in realization. He turns to walk away, but then rushes back to Emma, thrusting his arms around her in an impulsive hug. “Thank you very much!”

She squeezes him back tightly, her affection evident. “You're very welcome.”

When he's out of sight, I lean back in the oversized chair, watching Emma as she collects herself. “A problem solver. I like that.”

“All stinky little boys at that age hate bath time. Hope you found someone who's perfect for you,” she replies, casting me a playful glance.

“Yes, actually, I did,” I say, my heartbeat quickening at the thought of her.

You , I want to say. It's more than obvious. Crystal fucking clear.

Emma stands, her energy shifting as she prepares to leave. “Welp, I gotta get ready for my date tonight. Can't be late.” She turns gracefully on her heels and starts up the stairs, her confidence a sight to behold.

“You're adorable,” she comments lightly, passing Colby as he heads toward me with his overnight bag, packed full for a night at my mother’s. A few kids from church that she used to help watch are coming over too, all around Colby’s age. Mom enjoys chatting with their grandmothers while the kids play. At first, I told her no, concerned about the chaos, and she got upset, launching into another lecture about how he wouldn’t be this age forever.

A car door slams, and Colby darts to greet my mother. As soon as she enters, he climbs into her arms, laughing like he hasn’t seen her in ages.

“Did you gain ten pounds since last week?” she teases, her voice filled with affection.

I stand, my arms folded across my chest. “Probably from all the Halloween candy you fed him.”

The water turns on upstairs, its steady flow a reminder that Emma is getting ready for a date. My mother glances upward.

“You still want a large pepperoni to go?” she asks, shifting her attention back to me.

“Yes,” I reply, handing my card over to her.

She doesn’t take it. “No.”

“Please let me pay,” I offer.

“Absolutely not. I'm treating my grandson and his hardworking dad. I'll see you in the morning.” She casts a glance at the colorful dinosaur capsules on the coffee table, approval in her eyes.

“You should hire whoever brought those. That was genius. Sad I didn’t think of it,” she remarks as Colby nearly drags her down the porch, his little legs working overtime.

“The weather is supposed to be bad in the morning,” I say as I move to the door, a hint of concern creeping into my voice.

“We'll play it by ear,” she reassures. “The worst thing that could happen is I get to keep this little booger until Monday.”

“Sure. Hope you get all the juicy gossip tonight,” I say, sharing a smile before watching her disappear down the steps.

I return inside, flipping through my notes for everyone I interviewed today, the pages filled with ambitious dreams. Some resumes even have headshots attached.

Twenty minutes later, Emma walks down the stairs with her hair freshly dried and shimmering like copper. She’s wearing a short-as-fuck shiny red skirt that hugs her curves perfectly, paired with a white fuzzy sweater that contrasts against her tanned skin. In that moment, she seems like she just stepped out of a dream—a vivid, surreal fantasy that dances tantalizingly at the edges of my imagination.

My mind races, each thought a jumbled mess of admiration and bewilderment. “Wow. You're...”

Words scatter like leaves in the wind. I'm left speechless.

“Going to be late if I don't leave right now,” she says, glancing down at her phone, the glow reflecting in her eyes. When she passes me, I can’t resist the urge to reach out. I grab her hand, pulling her back to me with a gentle tug.

“You act like you missed me,” she remarks, teasingly.

“And what if I did?” My heart races as we draw close; my mouth hovers above hers, but I hesitate, caught in the dizzying whirlwind of my feelings.

She groans. “You’re so frustrating!”

“I’m the frustrating one? Look at you! Dressed like this and smelling so fucking pretty.” The scent of her perfume wraps around me, intoxicating, but the knowledge that she’s going out with my brother stings deeper than I’d like to admit.

She moves across the living room, stepping outside, her silhouette illuminated by the yellow glow of the porchlight. Smoke billows from her mouth as she exhales, cutting through the chilly night air while she gazes at her vehicle. With a press of a button, the engine roars to life, and the headlights flick on.

“What's wrong with you?” she asks, shaking her head, a half-smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

I grab her elbow, pulling her close, the warmth between us palpable. “I'm fucking jealous, okay? Is that what you want me to say? The thought of you being with anyone else...”

Her doe-like eyes meet mine. Laughter blooms and fills the space between us. I don’t find anything about this situation funny.

Emma’s expression softens, and her hand lifts to rest on my cheek, a gentle touch that sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you trust me?”

The edge of my anger fades as I close my eyes, focusing on her touch against my skin. “I don't know.”

“This is your chance,” she says, taking a step forward, her confidence radiating like a beacon.

I stand transparent before her; Emma sees straight through my defenses. Closing the distance, I lift her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. Slowly, I lean in and capture her lips with mine. Her hands clutch my shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric as she pulls me closer. An unexpected moan escapes her.

“What was that for?” she asks breathlessly, her eyes wide with surprise.

“You never miss the opportunity to kiss a pretty lady under the mistletoe. It’s bad luck,” I reply, feeling the warmth of her breath mingling with mine.

She smirks, and I can see the wheels turning in her head, ready to fire back with a clever retort.

“You have the job if you want it,” I tell her, my heart pounding with both eagerness and dread. She could say no.

Instead, a smile lights her face, revealing her perfect teeth. “Seriously?”

“You make Colby happy,” I mutter, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them. “Like T-Rex's and water parks. LEGO and chocolate birthday cake with sprinkles. I can't deny him that.”

“But you can so easily deny yourself that,” she counters, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. Her words cut through me like a knife, and I realize how painfully accurate she is. I suck in a ragged breath, moving beside her, my lower back resting against the railing as I watch her.

She doesn’t meet my eyes. The fun, playful person she was just moments ago has vanished, replaced by seriousness. The mood grows heavy.

“The biggest difference between you and me is you’re determined to run away from love. I will always run toward it.”

My large hand threads through her hair and gives a slight tug. Our mouths crash together, and I taste her spearmint toothpaste. Another whimper escapes her lips, and I know we’re spiraling out of control, like a kamikaze pilot with only one fate. The air thickens. It’s electric and consuming, forcing me to confront the chaos brewing between us.

“Neither of us will survive this,” I whisper against her mouth, my thumb brushing softly against her flushed cheek. Her eyes—full of want and need—widen at my words, and I can sense her heart racing beneath the surface.

“I don’t care.” With those bold words, she tugs on my lip, a playful yet intoxicating gesture that sends shivers down my spine. My eyes roll back in pleasure, overwhelmed by the pull of desire and the gravity of our situation.

“Cancel your plans tonight,” I insist, the urgency in my voice laced with desperation.

“I can't.” She takes a step away from me, and in that instant, I feel the loss of her warmth like the abrupt chill of an autumn breeze. Her cheeks are flushed a deep pink, and her lips are slightly swollen from our closeness. I'm convinced that NASA must have invented her lipstick because somehow, amidst all this, it remains untouched and perfectly in place.

Emma doesn’t glance back as she descends the steps to the porch, her silhouette framed by the headlights of her car.

I cross my arms over my chest, frustration bubbling within me at my inability to convince her to stay. “Tell Lucas I said he can go fuck himself,” I call out, the bitterness of my words echoing in the still evening air.

“I will,” she responds, her voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty. “Wait up for me, okay? We'll talk when I return.”

With that, Emma climbs inside her car, the sound of the slamming door echoes in the silence. She backs out of the driveway, and once the taillights vanish into the gathering darkness, I turn away, the weight in my chest growing heavier.

I change clothes, each movement feeling oddly robotic, as if I’m preparing for battle.

Right now, there’s only one person on this planet who can help me.

And I need to speak to her before I do something I will undoubtedly regret.