Military Daddies’ Nanny (Lucky Women’s Daddies Reverse Harem #1)

Chapter 3

Nancy

“Hi, I just arrived.” I quickly fire a text to my prospective client before grabbing the door handle to the Haven Cafe.

I push it open to reveal a very cozy but warm interior, a welcome contrast from the hustle and bustle going on outside.

This is the usual meeting spot where I engage my new clients. I like picking the location because it makes me feel at ease and in control.

The warm atmosphere helps me keep my nerves in check.

As soon as I walk in, the familiar aroma of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon rolls hits my nostrils, and my stomach immediately grumbles in response. I haven’t had anything to eat yet.

I scan the room in search of this man…Drew Johnson. From our little chat online, he’s a busy single dad and he needs help with two kids, a boy and a girl. That was all the information I’d gotten over text.

I prefer to meet up in person to really hash things out, both so I can get a good feel for the client, and so that there are no misunderstandings. I’m not sure I will recognize him even if I see him, though. The only thing I’m working with is his profile picture, and that’s just a side profile.

Fortunately, I am eight minutes early, so he's probably not here yet. I move over to my usual table and sink into my chair, the worn leather a familiar comfort.

My phone buzzes a second later, and I reach into my purse to fetch it. It’s a text from him, “Over here. By the window.”

I raise my head abruptly and look straight ahead, and just then, my eyes meet the sexiest gaze I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart skips a beat.

His eyes hold me captive for a few seconds. The world seems to have spun to a stop at that very moment, but eventually my brain catches up and I look away.

Damn! Could this be him?

I feel a clenching sensation in the pit of my stomach. It’s excitement.

I grab my purse tightly and take in a deep sharp breath, forcing my feet to move, one in front of the other.

As I approach his table, I try my hardest to control my nerves.

“Excuse me?” I start, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up, and my stomach does a little flip-flop as his light brown eyes, warm like honey, meet my gaze again. The corners of his lips crinkle in a polite smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, leaving a bit of mystery behind it.

He looks to be in his thirties, with the beginnings of crow's feet and smile lines etched on his face already. These are doing nothing to hinder his good looks.

His smile softens the sharp angles of his jawline, which otherwise hinted at a strength that went beyond just the well-defined muscles I could see straining beneath his black V-neck shirt.

He gestures to the empty seat in front of him.

I take the seat opposite him. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his form. He looks incredibly tall even while seated. I just know he’s probably well over six feet tall.

His rich, dark brown hair is the color of dark chocolate. It has tumbled forward in a way that screams that he rarely ever bothers to style it.

He reaches up and pushes it back from his face with a casual grace. It’s a simple gesture, yet it makes me weak in the knees.

“Hi, you must be Mr. Johnson?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

“The one and only,” he replies, reaching out for a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Nancy,” he says, his gaze lingering a beat too long.

“Likewise.” I clear my throat, forcing a smile.

“I didn’t think you were going to be this early,” I blurt out, trying to make conversation.

“Oh no, I’m a sucker for punctuality. I don’t like keeping people waiting. Can’t stand people who do that,” he replies.

“Exactly! Oh, finally someone else who gets it. I don’t play with people’s time. My time is valuable, you know?” I smile. It feels good to finally meet someone who gets what it means to be timely. I’m relieved that this is going better than I expected it to. We’re starting off on the right foot. That’s great.

“Right,” he agrees.

“So, food first? I’m starving.”

“Sounds good.”

He picks up the menu and begins to peruse it quietly.

And although I already have what I want to order in mind because I’m a regular here, I pick up the menu from the table, pretending to scan through it as he does the same.

Finally, he settles for an English muffin and a cup of black coffee.

I look at him in surprise. He gives me a questioning look, but I say nothing.

Of the plethora of things to order on the menu, he chooses a boring English muffin and a boring coffee. I don’t comment and keep my thoughts to myself.

I place my own order of French toast, with a side of scrambled eggs and sausage and a vanilla latte.

We speak for a bit about my rates and I tell him a little about myself and my last gig.

“My last clients just recently moved out of the city.” I explain, “Their kids were lovely and so well-behaved. It was easy working with them.”

“Yeah, I saw the review they left on your website. That’s one of the major reasons I reached out to you. They seemed incredibly impressed with your work,” he says.

We are still on the topic when our food arrives, but then a comfortable silence falls between us, only interrupted by the clinking of silverware as we dig in to savor the food.

Once we both finish eating, he reaches down for his napkin and fiddles with it for a moment with both elbows propped on the table as he watches passersby walk across the street.

“So…” he begins, pausing slightly before continuing.

“I have a proposition. This might be a bit out of the usual for you…” His voice is a deep, smooth baritone.

It feels like he’s picking his words very carefully as he speaks. His face is difficult to read but from the flicker of hesitation in his voice, I think he’s weighing his options while also gauging my reaction because he’s uncertain about how I will take what he’s about to say.

I straighten in my seat. My interest is piqued and I’m very eager to hear what he has to say.

“Uh,..what is it? Tell me,” I ask when he isn’t forthcoming.

He takes in a deep breath. “The thing is, right now I’m overly swamped with work. And as I’ve read from your website that you don’t usually do this but I’m left with little to no options. So, I’d love for you to…” he hesitates again. “…to come live with us,” he bites out finally.

Wait, what? My eyes widen as soon as he finishes his sentence. Is he serious? “You mean live with you? As in, move in?” I ask, my brows raised.

“I know. I know…it’s probably not the most ideal arrangement for you.” He tries pacifying me, almost like he knows exactly how absurd he sounds saying that.

Of course. It would be easier to swallow if he were married, at least, but his being a single dad complicates things.

Living with a single man can be dangerous. I look him over as I think this.

Although…

I don't know why— I mean, I could easily decline and we'd call it a day—but I'm nurturing the thought, thinking of the possibilities.

He seemed very put together and respectful over text, and sitting here, looking into those gorgeous eyes…everything inside me is screaming yes…but moving into his house?

I'm only considering this even though I know it's risky because he's smoking hot and he makes me feel butterflies in my stomach. They do say attractive people get people to trust them more easily. I feel a bit silly.

Live-in nanny…I was out of my depth and crazy for even considering trying it for the first time with a hot, single dad!

“I…I don’t. I just don't know,” I stammer. “I haven’t done this before. I don’t understand how it’s supposed to work.” I finish.

“Look.” He clears his throat, “The truth is that I would never have asked this of you if I didn’t think it was necessary. As I mentioned earlier, I’d be very busy from now on. I recently landed a new business deal which will require all my attention. I live with my younger brother and usually I can count on him for babysitting but only for short periods because he needs to work too. I can’t leave my kids all alone by themselves unattended when he isn’t available…”

There’s another man in the equation?

Before this can make me more guarded, he continues, lowering his voice, “And even if he were fully available…we’ve both decided that the kids need professional help. I think there’s something wrong with them.” His head drops.

“Sorry?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in curiosity.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. “I’m a bit worried. My daughter, she’s thirteen. But she has never—not even once—introduced me to anyone as her friend. I mean, she’s a teenager…she’s a straight-A student, don’t get me wrong. But that’s all she ever does—schoolwork. And my little boy… he’s nine but doesn’t say a thing most of the time. One would think he’s nonverbal.” His voice is filled with frustration.

I'm quiet for a moment, contemplating my next response and he's looking at me, waiting for my reply. He sounds frustrated by his kids’ distance from him and their lack of social life. It's no biggie, really. I've handled kids like these a dozen times, and I know how to help, but his proposal is still gnawing at me.

“You still with me?” he asks.

I jerk my eyes in his direction and sigh softly, nodding.

“Look, I know this is a lot to take in,” he says. “I just feel like they need more fun in their lives. I genuinely don’t know how to help them, that's why I’m seeking your help. Living with us can help you build a connection with them and maybe that’s the change they need.”

I sigh after listening to him, and now that he explains it this way, it makes sense why he wants a live-in nanny. Still, it feels weird, very weird.

“I don't know, Mr. Johnson,” I say. “I'd like to help your kids but…moving in is a bit…” I can't seem to find the right words to express myself.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. And honestly, I'd be worried if you didn't see this as creepy,” he confessed. He managed to smoothly put a slight smile on my face.

“Yeah, it is a little strange,” I agree.

He grins faintly. “You can look up my time in the military…you can also tell someone you trust where you will be.”

My mind quickly drifts back to my discussion with Jamie. She said that I live a boring life. So yes, this may be my chance at stepping out of my comfort zone.

I do have some concerns about becoming a live-in nanny. While being a nanny means I’m often in strangers’s homes with their children, I’ve always been able to go back to my own home afterward.

Drew does seem like a good guy, if a little tough and stern. Plus, his situation does sound like a challenge, which definitely makes things interesting.

I could just think of it as living with roommates. People have made riskier decisions just by finding someone to share an apartment with during college.

This isn’t so bad…right?

“Can I get some time to think about it?” I hear myself asking.

He leans back in his seat. “Absolutely, take all the time you need.”