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

Chapter 16

Nancy

The auditorium buzzes with pre-show energy as we file into our seats. Our little group is comprised of Drew, Nathan, Carlos, Jason, and me.

On stage, the curtain remains drawn, but I can picture the scene behind it: a flurry of last-minute costume adjustments, forgotten lines being frantically memorized, stage fright manifesting in jittery hands and queasy stomachs.

"I hope Bella's okay back there," Drew murmurs, craning his neck as though he might be able to see through the heavy velvet to find his daughter. "She was so nervous this morning."

I lay a reassuring hand on his arm. "She'll be great. You know how prepared she is. She and Megan have been running through lines for weeks because she was helping her practice."

He nods, but I can see the tension in the set of his jaw hasn't eased. It's moments like these when the resemblance between Drew and Bella is most apparent. They share the same tendency to furrow their brows and the same instinct to shoulder responsibility even when it isn't theirs to bear.

"I still can't believe Megan broke her leg a week before opening night," Nathan remarks, shaking his head. "Talk about rotten timing."

Carlos snorts. "Nah man, it's the theater curse. You're not supposed to say the name of the Scottish play, remember?"

“It’s a good thing Bella is able to take her place, although she’s very nervous.” Nathan sighs. “Poor Megan, she must hate having to sit this one out.”

As the boys debate the merits of various superstitions, I find my own thoughts drifting backstage. I'd stopped by Bella's dressing room on our way in, watching her pace in the tiny space as she muttered Shakespeare under her breath. The fear in her eyes when she looked up and saw me had been palpable.

"What if I forget everything?" she'd whispered. "What if I let everyone down?"

I'd crossed to her then, gripping her shoulders gently. "Bella, honey, listen to me. You know this. You've got the talent and you've been practicing. All you have to do now is trust yourself."

She'd taken a deep, shuddering breath. "You really think I can do it?"

"I know you can," I told her firmly. "And no matter what happens out there tonight, you have a whole crew of people in that audience who are going to be ridiculously proud of you, okay?"

Now, as the house lights dim and a hush falls over the crowd, I send up a silent wish. Please, let her feel pride in herself .

The curtain rises on a street in Verona, and for the next two hours, we're transported. Bella, it turns out, needn't have worried. From the moment she steps onstage as Juliet, she commands attention.

Her delivery is flawless, each immortal line imbued with the perfect mixture of innocence and passion. But more than that, she makes the character her own. This isn't just Shakespeare's Juliet—it's Bella's.

Beside me, I hear Drew's sharp intake of breath during the balcony scene. I glance over to see his eyes shining, one hand pressed to his mouth. Impulsively, I reach for him, twining our fingers together. He squeezes back, a wordless thank you.

When the final tragic tableau fades to black, the audience erupts. As Bella takes her bow, beaming and slightly breathless, the roar of applause swells. Drew and the boys are on their feet instantly, whistling and cheering. Jason's small voice pipes up over the din. "That's my sister! That’s my sister! "

I laugh, brushing at the tears that have somehow materialized on my cheeks. My heart feels so full it might burst.

After what feels like an eternity of curtain calls, we make our way to the backstage area to collect our star. Bella spots us before we see her, and suddenly she's hurtling through the crowd and launching herself into my arms.

"I did it!" she cries, and I can feel her trembling with leftover adrenaline. "Nancy, did you see? I didn't mess up once!"

I hug her fiercely, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You were magnificent, sweetheart. Absolutely incredible."

She pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes, and the naked emotion I see there takes my breath away. "I couldn't have done it without you," she says. "I'm so glad you came into our lives. I...I love you."

For a moment, I'm rendered speechless. Of all the declarations of love I've received lately, this one might mean the most. Because as much as I adore Drew, Nathan, and Carlos, it's the kids who have truly stolen my heart. To know that Bella feels the same…

I gather her close once more, not bothering to hide the tears now streaming down my face. "Oh, Bella. I love you too. So, so much."

We stay like that for a long moment, lost in our little bubble. Then a throat clears behind us, and I turn to see Drew watching us, something unreadable in his expression.

"Sorry to interrupt," he says softly. "But I think there might be a few other people who'd like to congratulate the star of the show."

Bella's eyes widen comically. "Oh! Sorry, Dad!" And then she's being passed from one set of arms to another. Drew lifts her clear off her feet in a bear hug, Carlos ruffles her hair, and Nathan presents her with a bouquet of roses that seems to appear out of thin air.

I hang back, not wanting to hog her spotlight. But as I observe the scene, this patchwork family showering Bella with the love and praise she so richly deserves, I'm struck by a powerful sense of rightness. Of belonging.

This is where I'm meant to be .

Hours later, after a raucous celebratory dinner and tucking two very overtired kids into bed, I find myself alone with Drew on the back porch.

The unseasonably warm night air carries the scent of jasmine from the sprawling vines that cover the fence. Drew hands me a cold beer from the cooler at his feet, and I take a long, grateful sip.

"I've been meaning to thank you," he says after a comfortable silence. "For everything you did with Bella today. This whole week, really. She was a nervous wreck until you jumped in."

I shake my head. "I didn't do anything special. She's the one who put in all the hard work."

"Maybe." Drew takes a pull from his own bottle, eyes distant. "But you gave her the confidence to get up there. I saw how scared she was this morning...and then how she ran to you afterward. You're so good with her, Nancy. With both of them."

There's a wistfulness to his tone that tugs at my heart. Tentatively, I reach out to touch his arm. "Hey. You're a great father, Drew. Jason and Bella adore you."

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I try. God knows I try. But sometimes I worry...I was gone so much when they were little, you know? First with deployments, then after Karen left, trying to keep the business afloat as a single dad. I feel like I missed so much."

And there it is; the opening I've been waiting for. In the months I've known Drew, he's been reticent about his past. But tonight, something has shifted. I settle back in my chair, angling toward him. "Tell me about it?"

He's quiet for a long moment, and I wonder if I've overstepped. But then he begins to speak, haltingly at first, then with growing ease as the story pours out of him.

He tells me about enlisting right out of high school, following in his father's footsteps. How he'd thrived in the military due to the discipline, the sense of purpose, and the brotherhood. He'd met Karen on his first leave home. They shared a whirlwind romance that led to marriage just months later.

"We were so young," he says, shaking his head ruefully. "Barely knew each other, really. But when you're facing death every day...I don't know, everything feels more urgent. More real."

I nod, understanding. It's not so different from the way Drew, Nathan, Carlos and I came together—that sense of grasping at something precious before it can slip away.

Drew goes on, recounting years of deployments interspersed with brief, intense periods at home. He mentions Bella's birth, then Jason's. He tells me about the growing tension in his marriage as Karen struggled with the long absences and the constant fear.

"I came back different after my last tour," he admits quietly. "We all did. I got hurt badly—that's how I got that scar on my chest. They all thought...Christ, they really thought they were going to lose me. And Nathan, he was dealing with his own demons. I felt like I had to be the strong one, you know? Hold it all together."

I reach for his hand then, lacing our fingers together. He offers me a small, grateful smile before continuing.

"I couldn't sleep. Kept having these vivid nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat. During the day I was on edge all the time, snapping at Karen and the kids over stupid little things. Looking back now, I can see I was suffering from PTSD. But at the time..." He trails off, jaw clenching. "I didn't want to admit there was a problem. Figured I just needed to man up, push through it."

"Oh, Drew," I breathe, aching for him in his present state of mind and for the stoic, hurting man who had thought he had to carry the weight of the world alone.

He shrugs, but I can see the old pain lingering in his eyes. "Anyway. It was too much for Karen in the end. She stuck it out another year or so, but we were like strangers by then. One day, I came home and she was just...gone. Took off to God knows where, leaving nothing but a note saying she couldn't do it anymore…and papers for the divorce. Her lawyer handled everything while she was gone."

"She left the kids?" I'm unable to keep the shock from my voice. It's not that I can't empathize with Karen's struggle. Being married to someone with PTSD can't have been easy. But to abandon her own children?

Drew nods grimly. "Bella was seven, Jason barely three. He doesn't even remember her, not really. It was hell at first, trying to juggle single parenthood with the business. If it hadn't been for Nathan and Carlos stepping up..." He swallows hard. "I don't know what I would've done."

Acting on instinct, I shift closer, eliminating the space between us. One hand comes up to cradle his cheek, thumb stroking along the stubbled line of his jaw. "You survived," I tell him fiercely. "You kept going, for your kids. And now look at them. They're amazing, Drew. You did that."

He stares at me for a long moment, something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. Then, slowly, he leans in.

The kiss starts soft, an exchange of comfort. But it quickly deepens, mouths opening, tongues seeking. I wind my arms around Drew's neck as he pulls me into his lap, his large hands spanning my waist.

"Nancy," he breathes against my lips. "God, I need you."

I roll my hips in response, delighting in his throaty groan. We're wearing far too many clothes. I make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric aside so I can trail kisses along the strong column of his throat, his collarbone. He shudders beneath me.

"Inside," Drew manages, voice rough with desire. "Bed. Now."

Somehow, we make it upstairs without waking the kids, shedding clothing as we go. When we tumble onto the mattress, bare skin pressed to bare skin, it feels like coming home.

Drew takes his time with me, mapping every inch of my body with reverent hands and lips until I'm trembling, incoherent with need. Only then does he finally, finally sink into me, both of us gasping at the exquisite friction.

We move together, finding a rhythm as natural as breathing. I'm dimly aware of the sounds escaping me, breathless moans, pleas for more, but I'm beyond caring.

There is only this: Drew's solid weight above me, the delicious drag of him inside me, the building pressure low in my belly…

I'm distantly aware of the door creaking open, soft footsteps padding across the carpet. But it's not until I feel the mattress dip on either side of us that I realize we're no longer alone.

"Started without us, huh?" Carlos's voice rumbles, thick with arousal. "That's not very polite."

Drew's hips stutter in their rhythm as Nathan's hand snakes between our bodies, clever fingers finding my clit. "Guess we'll just have to make up for lost time."

I keen, overwhelmed by sensation as three sets of hands caress me, three mouths lavish attention on my sweat-slicked skin. My gaze meets Drew's, and I see my own wonderment reflected there. How did we get so lucky?

What follows is a tangle of limbs, a symphony of sighs and moans. We take turns worshiping each other, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until we're all spent, sated.

Later, curled in the center of our massive bed with a man on either side of me, and Carlos lying by my feet. I find myself smiling into the darkness. My body aches pleasantly, and my heart...my heart is so full it hurts.

I think of everything that brought us here. The pain, the loss, the lonely nights. But also, the joy – the family we've built, the love we share. And I know, with bone-deep certainty, that I wouldn't change a thing.

This, messy and complicated and beautiful as it is, this is everything.