Page 26 of Nanny for the SEAL

“Thanks.”

We both smile, but that silence creeps back in, and I catch Ivy’s eyes going to the photos again. She studies them as I watch her, and in that quiet, it’s like I can feel the past playing tug-o-war with the present.

When Ivy looks back at me, it seems like there’s a question right on the tip of her tongue. I can see that she wants to ask something, her lips slightly parted with her brows raised.

But she shakes herself and dismisses it.

Is she curious about Maeve? Why doesn’t she just ask?

Still, in the momentary silence, with Ivy’s eyes back on the picture frames, I have to admit to myself that it would be awkward for anyone to ask.

Besides all that, I don’t really want to answer any questions that Ivy puts out there. I don’t want to talk about Maeve.

I never do.

So why do I care now?

Part of me knows there’s an easy answer to that particular question. I care because I want to trust Ivy. I want to let her in and get to know her.

That would mean she learned about me, of course, and the idea of reciprocating the information makes my guts turn cold.

Because then she’d ask abouthowit happened, and if I told the truth, if Ivy saw me for what I really am…

Shaking myself, I clear my throat and offer a mean-nothing smile. “You okay? You got…quiet.”

Ivy shakes herself in the same way, pushing away thoughts that appear to be just as cheery as mine based on her expression.

“Yes, sorry. I’m fine.” She sucks in a breath, mirroring my polite grin. “But anywho, I need to go help Daisy. She wants an Elsa braid.”

Laughing lightly, I gesture up toward the stairs. “Best not keep the princess waiting then.”

She laughs back, and I watch—frozen there in front of the reminders of my past—as Ivy jogs up the stairs and disappears down the hall toward Daisy’s room.

You killed her. You can’t get close to anyone. Stay back.

My pulse ticks up, and I shut my eyes, trying to breathe around the building panic. Behind my lids, I can see Ivy’s easy smile, the way it lights up her peridot irises when she laughs.

I can’t deny how curious I am about Ivy—her life, her friends, where she came from. She stirs that longing for connection that I haven’t felt in ages.

It’s impossible to deny how easy she is to get along with, and that natural air of down-to-earth acceptance is like a balm to my healing wounds.

What’s more, as much as I assumed it would never happen again, I can feel the rusty cogs inside me come to life when she’s around, wanting to be near her,close.

I’m attracted to her. I’m attracted to Ivy.

It’s so obvious, and still, the thoughts hit me like a freight train. I can’t be attracted to the nanny. Hell, I can’t be attracted to anyone, let alone a woman who is a fair number of years younger than me and knows nothing about the darkness I carry around at all times.

No, Xade. Not after Maeve. No.

Pushing myself into motion, I head back to my office. I need to get my work done so that I can be with Daisy today. That’s the most important thing.

“Hang on, honey! I’m just going to fill it with water.”

As I sit down behind my desk, the door still open so that I can see down the hall and into the kitchen, Ivy runs past with a spray bottle.

I can’t help but watch her as she stands at the sink to fill it up. She seems totally fine, downright happy, and it’s all because she’s doing my kid’s hair.

But then it happens—like it always does.

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