Page 47 of Nanny for the Cowboy

“Is it how to use a napkin?”

He looks at me, confused, and then I nod down at the little stack. A lightbulb goes off over his head, and Darby perks up, wiping his face until I nod that he’s gotten it all.

“Okay, so no, that wasn’t it.” Darby shakes his head, wadding up the last napkin he used and tossing it on the table.

“Alright, so what’s your question then?” I start up with my waffle cone again, holding it in my left hand like some sort of challenge because it needs to catch back up to the right.

“Do you like Clover?”

My tongue is out midway through licking the cone, and I pause. Pulling back, I clear my throat, regarding my son.

“Of course, bud. She’s been a big help. We may not need as much of that now that the cast is off, but I know that having her around has been beneficial.”

“No, Dad, ugh.” Darby groaned, rolling his eyes at me like I’d missed the most basic of points. “That is sonotwhat I meant. God.”

“Darby,” I warned, not loving how he was blatantly “annoyed” with me. “The sass, dude. Chill. Whatdidyou mean?”

“Sorry,” he offers, his stare going down to the table a bit sheepishly. “I only meant, like…do youlikelike Clover?”

My stomach tightens, and I roll my lips between my teeth. I really thought we put this to bed, but apparently, I was wrong.

“Buddy, we talked about this. I?—”

“I know! Really. It’s just…” He pauses, and I watch my son consider his words, choosing the right ones. “You guys stare at each other a lot, and it’s not the same as you do with other people.”

Utterly called out by a ten-year-old, I nearly drop my ice cream. Thankfully, I correct myself, but the shock is still there.

“Where is all this coming from, Darby? You haven’t asked about it in a long time.”

“Umm, I don’t know.” He swirls his ice cream in the bowl, the sandwich losing some of its structural integrity as it melts. “You guys just…I don’t know! I can, like, feel something when I see you guys.”

“Feel something?”

He nods, and I just stare back at him, trying to understand what Darby is getting at. But I suppose it’s notthatdifficult if I’m honest with myself.

I just don’t want to be.

Still, I can’t deny that when Clover and I are alone together—or apparently when we justthinkwe’re alone—we tend to stare.

“Honey,” I reach out, patting Darby’s arm, “Clover is your nanny. That’s where it ends. Okay?”

“What if she wasn’t?”

Stumbling through a laugh, I cock my head, my brow furrowing. “What if she wasn’t?”

“Well, you’re better now, like before. If I don’t need a nanny anymore, then Clover could do something else, and she wouldn’t be like working for us.”

“I see.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. He’s damn perceptive, and while I appreciate that I’ve raised a kid who’s cognizant of what’s going on around him, I’d prefer it if it didn’t have to do with my love life—or lack thereof.

Especially when he can also tell that there would be something weird about me dating the nanny.

“Darby, I like Clover well enough, but that’s not what I’m looking for, okay? I need to focus on you, raising your wild butt so you grow up right.”

I muss up his hair as I speak, rubbing my hand on the top of his head before Darby playfully shoves me off.

“I’m fine, Dad. You worry too much. And, like, I’m not a baby, you know? I can take care of myself.”

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