Page 64 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Facing the fact that I might go for this and Clover could leave is terrifying. I’m not sure if I would survive that, and that’s nothing compared to the pain I know Darby would feel if Clover just left after being a part of our family.

My heart rate ticks up, and I can feel my palms get clammy. The room is too quiet, and I’m ready to bolt for the door and chalk this all up to just a slip-up, when Clover squeezes my hand.

“I understand.” Clover nods, a soft smile stretching over her face. “I want to try, too. You are…you’re not what I expected, Brooks. But denying that there’ssomethinghere feels stupid. I don’t want to do that.”

Everything inside me warms, a fiery glow radiating through my blood like my own personal sun. I pull Clover to my lips, tasting her, claiming her kiss as my own.

For the first time in so many years, I’m going to listen to the little voice I know represents my heart. I’m going to think positively.

I don’t know why, but it feels possible with Clover—with my Lucky.

“Okay.” I lean back, resting my forehead on hers. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ll keep it secret from your dad for now and just see where this goes.”

She nods against me, kissing my lips gently just once before slipping back.

“Okay.”

TWENTY-THREE

Clover

It’s hot as hell again as I drive with my father to go see a farm. He’s finally found one worth purchasing, according to him anyway, and I really hope that this will be the one.

He needs out of that apartment.

Of course, it’s not the only thing I’m thinking about as we pull up to the lovely white farmhouse on the large plot of land. No, I’m also dwelling on the fact that, for the first time, I’m keeping something from my dad.

I’ve never done that, especially not after Mom died.

But what the fuck am I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, Dad, I’m dating, or I guess maybe dating, Brooks. You know, your best friend and the guy you got me a job with as a nanny. You cool?

Yeah, that wouldnotplay over well.

I know I can’t keep the truth from him forever, and honestly, I don’t want to. I want to be able to talk to him about this because being with Brooks makes me feel…incredible.

It’s been longer than I care to admit since I’ve dated someone, even longer since I had sex, and even longer than that since I’ve actually felt capable of giving my heart to someone.

We’re not there yet, but I can see it. I canseebeing with Brooks, and that’s a change that I can’t ignore—a change I want to talk to my father about.

“Well, come on, kiddo. Let’s go have a look.”

Dad turns off the car, and we both get out to go look at the house. It’s so big, so much bigger than his awful apartment, and the exterior is picture-perfect—white shutters on light blue shingles, with cookie-cutter trim and a wraparound porch.

God, it’s so beautiful.

We walk up to the porch, and Dad finds the hide-a-key that the real estate agent left for us to use. He unlocks the house, and as we step inside, both of us let out a little gasp.

It’s stunning. And yes, I’m well aware that the house has been staged, but it doesn’t matter. If this is the bones my dad is working with, he’s in excellent shape.

The walls have been freshly painted in a delicate cream, and sheer curtains cover the plethora of windows that surround the airy living room. The floors are a deep brown, the rustic flare of mismatched boards intact.

“Dad, this is?—”

“Perfect.” I look over to see him smiling, the shimmer of tears clinging to his eyes. “Oh, Clover, it’s just what I imagined.”

There are small touches that make the place feel so lived in and real. There are hooks by the door to hang your stuff, and the light fixtures are all this aged brass. Thick beams of wood run across the length of the ceiling, and there’s a massive fireplace along the far wall.

“It really is lovely, Dad.”

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