Page 48 of The Nanny and the Nerd
He’d wanted her, and she liked it.
She liked it a lot more than she should.
In those fleeting seconds, ripe with breathless gasps and impassioned kisses, she wasn’t Penny Fennimore, the failed writer. She was a woman caught in a deliriously beautiful flash of passion. They’d moved together in the dim light, two people who, at that very moment, needed each other more than anything else.
No, not two people. That’s where she was mistaken.
Rowen didn’t need her. A gentle ping was all it took to change his tune. At the sound of his phone, their kiss in the corridor came to a screeching halt, and he’d left her standing there, alone in the darkness. The man bolted—literally bolted—away from her as his words rang through her head.
A terrible error in judgment.
He’d spoken the brutal words, then left her there to decipher what the hell had happened. But one thing was crystal clear, and she didn’t need to be a tech genius billionaire to figure it out. Rowen Gale was a workaholic, driven to be the best. That was his first priority.
And she needed to remember that.
Not to mention the first lesson in New Job 101: don’t screw your boss—or kiss him in darkened hallways, even if he does happen to be the hottest nerd on the planet.
It didn’t even matter that he’d gone AWOL. Despite his extended absence and complete lack of communication, she’d kept replaying that kiss in her head. The writer in her, the part that imagined romantic plots, dreamy heroes, and driven heroines, couldn’t stop thinking about the man.
Penny pressed her fingertips to her lips, and a rush of heat flooded her system as she recalled the whirlwind of desire that had consumed them. Rowen Gale had kissed her with a ferocity she’d never experienced. With her back to the wall and her breasts pressed to his chest, she wasn’t Penny Fennimore, the disappointing daughter and struggling writer. She was Penelope Fennimore, the nanny who Rowen Gale couldn’t resist. Daring and bold, she followed her passion. She invited adventure. She—
“Did something happen between the two of you?” Charlotte asked, concern coating her words. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you started working for the guy.”
Her stomach dropped. She loved her friends. They knew her better than anyone, but she couldn’t tell them about the kiss. She’d never hear the end of it. And what was she supposed to say?We had a massive lip-lock sesh in the hallway. But we’re all good now—just a minor error in judgment.
No, that would only lead to more questions. Questions she wasn’t able to answer.
The thing is, she wasn’t all good. In fact, that kiss ranked as one of the best—no, the best kiss she’d ever had. If he hadn’t had whisked her into his arms, her foot would have kicked up into the air like you see in movies when the character is kissed within an inch of losing complete control.
She cleared her throat. “I’ve been busy with Phoebe and working on a piece for the Denver Poetry and Short Story Competition.”
Jesus! It just came out!
It wasn’t a complete lie. While she hadn’t written, she’d stared hard at the blank sheet of paper in her notebook.
“You entered? That’s great!” Char gushed, still keeping her voice low.
Penny flinched, grateful her friends couldn’t see her. “Yep, I’m entering—doing it today.”
“Girl, spill! After that nerd-a-licious confrontation in front of the bar, we need the details, Penn,” Harper chided in a hushed breath.
“And we don’t have a whole lot of time, so give us the Cliffs’ Notes version,” Charlotte whispered.
Penny pressed the button on the side of the flip phone to increase the volume. “Why don’t you have a lot of time? Where are you guys? It’s eight in the morning. I was surprised you even called this early.”
Harper groaned. “Oh, we’re up. Libby made sure of it.”
“And we wanted to check in with you,” Charlotte murmured softly.
Penny cocked her head to the side, not sure what to make of her friends’ whispers, when the door to her room swung open.
“Penny, I’m ready to go!” Phoebe announced, bursting into the room with her list of weekly spelling words tucked under her arm. “Can you braid my hair before you take me to school?”
Penny smoothed the girl’s collar. “I have to finish this call first, then I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Don’t forget to pick out a bow.”
“Okay,” Phoebe chimed, then started to tap her little foot.
“Phoebe, don’t you secretly call me a bad word with that foot of yours. Remember, I know what it means,” Penny warned.
