Page 100 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Coming out into the open about our relationship, because that’s what it is, has been on my mind almost as much as Kyle this past week, and I’m feeling the pressure growing every day.

Dad’s going to freak out. What are you supposed to say? And what about Kyle? You have to do something about this.

Settling myself with a deep breath, I focus on the present. I have to take this one day at a time, one step at a time.

And today, Dad is moving into the farmhouse.

I’m thrilled for him. It’s been his dream for so long, and after the inspection I helped him with and signing the papers, it’s finally moving day.

The present is amazing. Stay here, Clover. Enjoy the day.

So I do. I think about the dinner we have planned and this next trip with Brooks to Dad’s old apartment to pick up more boxes.

We’ve got this.

As I step out of the grocery store with some snacks for the boys, I sigh. My dad is going to be all set up in his new house tonight for the first meal, which will probably be pizza.

It’s going to be great, and Brooks has been so wonderful over the past few weeks in ensuring everything goes smoothly. He’s also been at my side, and his presence has been a comfort I will never tire of.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket to check the text.

“Darby is all settled at Mason’s. There are so many kids in that house. Fuck.”

I laugh at Brooks’s message, sending back a quick “meet you at the apartment,” and then I tuck my phone away.

He’s letting me use the truck to haul all the groceries before bringing the vehicle over to the apartment, and as I set the bags down in the front seat, I sigh.

The thing is so damned tall, and I have to angle my ass up so that I can practically jump into the seat. As I pull open the driver’s side door, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

It’s that odd feeling—like the one I had at the park with Darby.

I spin around, glancing around me and searching for any sign that someone is around. I can’t see anything, though, but the feeling doesn’t recede.

There’s no one standing at the front of the grocery store, looking in my direction with a forgotten bag or some complaint. No one is staring at me in the parking lot as if I took up two spaces or smashed a cart into their car.

I’m still on edge, though. The hairs refuse to go down, and I know there’s…something. But I don’t know what.

Hurrying into the car and locking the doors, I turn the key and fire up the ignition. I’ll feel safer when I’m at the apartment with Brooks.

The truck groans to life, and I pull on my seat belt as I adjust the rearview mirror. I shouldn’t need to. I was just driving the thing, but it’s a habit.

As I do, I swear I catch something in the reflection. But as soon as I try to zero in on it—thinking I see a man in all black standing on the sidewalk across from the store—it’s gone.

My nerves are flaring, panic nestling between my ribs as I try to steady my breathing. I just need to get to the apartment. Brooks will be there, and I’ll be safe.

I put the car in drive, ready to pull forward through the empty spot in front of me, but the gear sticks. I jiggle it, Brooks having told me it likes to do this, and then it pops into place, and I’m off.

Still, it feels weird. It’s almost like the universe is trying to keep me from going to the apartment. But that’s stupid.

I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.

Calm down, Clover. You’re fine. Don’t go spiraling when your dad is so looking forward to tonight.

As I pull into the small parking lot in front of my dad’s apartment building, Brooks waves from the sidewalk. I smile, getting out as he comes over and lays a kiss on my cheek.

“Your dad is getting stuff situated at the house, and I had the chattiest Uber driver alive.”

I laugh, knowing this is still a small town, I have a feeling I know exactly who he got because I’ve enjoyed the guy, too.

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