Page 63 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Clover’s brows knit together, and she chews on her lip before asking, “What do you mean ‘actually?’”

Staring at her, there’s this part of me that knows I could lie, or at the very least, I could obscure the truth. But I can’t do that to her.

As much as I might not want to admit it, I carea lotabout hurting Clover. I…I just couldn’t do that.

“I’ve thought about it,” I offer matter-of-factly. “I’ve thought aboutyou. Quite a bit, if I’m honest.”

Her stare softens, and Clover leans into my hand. “I have, too. I realize that this is…a bit unorthodox.”

I snort. “That’s one way to put it.”

Swatting at me, Clover sits up a bit more, pulling up the sheet to cover herself. “Excuse me for wanting to be tactful. Jerk.”

I chuckle—because it seems that no matter what, Clover will always be able to get me to laugh. Warmth spreads through my chest, and as much as I know that we shouldn’t be here, that thisis not where I’m supposed to be looking for a relationship—even though that’s not at all what I was doing—I can’t deny that being with Clover feels way too damn good.

“You’re not wrong, Lucky. It’s not what weshouldbe doing. We both get that.” Clover looks away as my words hit her, and I feel that pang deep in my chest as she deflates. “But I don’t think I can fight it anymore.”

Perking up, Clover snaps her stare to me, and I swear to all that is holy, those stormy blue eyes of hers could get me to do just about anything.

“I don’t think I can either, especially…” She scoots closer, briefly gesturing down with her head. “…since I’ve gotten a taste of that.”

Laughing, I pull her against my side, wrapping my arm around her. “I’ve no plan for this, Clover. I…I can’t tell you where this is going to go or how long. I…I can’t fight it, but I don’t know if I’m ready to label it either.”

She nods, resting her head on my shoulder. “Ifeelthat. I…ugh, let’s just see where it goes. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

I relax some, the non-decision decision making me feel a bit better. “I can do that.”

A few moments pass in silence, and then Clover sits up like she’s just touched an electric fence. I face her head-on, running a hand up and down her arm as her hands cover her face.

“What is it?”

She shakes her head before meeting my eyes. “I’m a moron, that’s what. My brain apparently felt like it was convenient to forget about my dad before, but boy, do I remember now. What are we going to do abouthim?”

Guilt washes over me, drowning out the feelings of happiness I’d allowed myself to enjoy for a few minutes.

Fuck, Leo is going to be furious. Jesus, what did we do?

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair, and the room hangs in silence for a bit. It’s not like I was planning this, like I saw his daughter and went, “Yeah, I’m gonna fuck her.”

But somehow, I don’t think Leo will understand the distinction.

I never wanted to hurt my best friend. That’s never,everbeen a thought in my mind. But up until now, I never had anything I really wanted for myself, either.

Clover is the first person in years I’ve even remotely let in. The fact that she’s his daughter is an unfortunate coincidence. If she was anyone else, just my nanny, I would feel the same.

I know it.

Looking over at her, I reach out again for her face, running my thumb up and down her cheek. I feel so drawn to her, compelled to be near her like some act of destiny.

“I…I don’t think we should tell your father, but…I like this. I…want this.”

It feels so weird, so wrong. To be asking for something for just myself. I’ve been selfless for so long that this feels like a betrayal.

Fuck, though. I do want this. I want Clover. I want to at leasttrymy hand at happiness and see what happens.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you.” Clover holds my eyes, listening intently. “I don’t want a repeat of Leah, but I’m willing to see where this goes. To…try.”

Even vocalizing the words is weird. I have been trying to deny how I feel for so long, though, and it hasn’t worked. Keeping Clover safe here at the ranch has been so crucial because… there are feelings there.

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