Page 130 of The Nanny and the Hothead
She took the shot, then zoomed in and caught Mitch handing a sandwich to a little girl. She’d seen this scenario play out a multitude of times over the last month. She’d taken hundreds, no, more like thousands of photographs of the man, the truck, Sergio and Erick, and the many customers who were thrilled to pose with Mitch in front of the bright orange Louise. They’d added stops to the food truck’s schedule, going out almost every day, in some capacity. And while she’d learned Mitch’s rhythm and could anticipate the moment when his lips would curl, and he’d flash that easy grin as he served someone a free meal, it still sent a dizzying current through her body when it happened. The glint in his eyes and how his cheeks grew the slightest bit pink when patrons thanked him touched her every time.
He waved goodbye to the child, but before the next group of customers made their way to the window, he glanced her way. And that’s when the butterflies in her belly erupted. Of course, it was her job to take his picture. But they’d hit the pause button quite a few times on theofficial professionalismbutton. It was as if he could sense when her eyes were on him in a very nonprofessional capacity. His expression changed to that look that was meant for her. A look that said you are utterly and completely mine.
And she was.
Getting hired on as a professional photographer to chronicle the Say Cheese, Louise reboot would have been enough to put her on cloud nine. But there was more—so much more that kept a dreamy grin pasted to her lips and a sweet ache pulsing between her thighs. She’d never known happiness like this. The pieces of her life had fallen into place with Mitch’s and Oscar’s so seamlessly it was as if they were made for each other.
Their days were filled with food truck stops. Each one was a joyous occasion—a celebration of food where people came together to connect over their shared love of artisan grilled cheese sandwiches. Here, she honed her craft, capturing the hard work inside the truck and the palpable delight outside of it, one shot after the other. And as the news of the food truck reboot made its way around town, the crowds grew, and the media coverage blossomed. Mitch was a natural. Be it chatting with customers or doing a live shot for a local TV station, the man radiated his passion for food. And she was there, soaking it in, becoming one with her subject, and learning the man behind the hothead mask by heart.
But the food truck wasn’t the only place Mitch shined.
Despite the time crunch to get a rough draft out, his book was coming along beautifully. A mix of recipes and anecdotes with a heavy emphasis on photography. Mitch was like a machine, working a four-hour lunch shift, then sitting with her as they sifted through the day’s shots and brainstormed topics for upcoming chapters.
And they were on the right track. After Mitch had submitted the first three chapters for the editors to review, Gwen’s icy demeanor became a thing of the past. Now, when they corresponded with the publisher, the woman’s effusive praise amplified with each call. She liked what she saw, and she wasn’t shy about sharing her enthusiasm with the culinary community. Sponsors were back knocking on Ines’s door and making inquiries into Chef Mitch Elliott’s availability. And everyone wanted to get their hands on his next book. The preorders were through the roof. But he hadn’t figured out a conclusion, a way to wrap up the narrative. But it would come. She could feel it in her bones.
When they did have a day off, they’d spent it at the Crystal Cricket—as customers. Mitch’s friends Monica and Gabe had the whole operation under control. They were a lovely couple, and she’d become fast friends with them. But it also gave her a chance to observe another side of Mitch. She’d photographed the trio talking food and wine and had marveled at Mitch’s knowledge and dedication to his craft. He was no longer the one-dimensional angry chef, and everyone at the Crystal Cricket had taken notice.
But the fanfare shifted to the back burner when it came time to pick up Oscar from school. While it was a thrill observing Mitch’s transformation from hothead to local hero, nothing beat the moment when the school bell rang, and Oscar burst through the school’s doors with Phoebe by his side. Laughing, he’d scan the line of cars, then break out into a wide grin when he spotted Louise. But it wasn’t just the joy of seeing the boy acclimating so well to his new life. There was something else that happened in that wisp of a moment. Mitch would look her way, and she’d catch his eye. In that fraction of a second, they shared a silent exchange that said, here comes our favorite six-year-old. We’re in this together. And all she could do was smile as the boy ran to them, his backpack swinging from side to side with each stride.
She’d never been part of a family’s daily routine. Growing up, when she wasn’t with her friends or at school, she was alone. Homework was completed by herself at the kitchen table. Dinner consisted of whatever was in the fridge. There were no games of freeze tag in the backyard, no popsicles on the swing set, no gathering to break bread, no making bubble crowns and bubble beards in the bathtub. With a father she rarely saw and a mother who worked full time then spent her downtime scouring the bars for Mr. Right, it left little time for the mundane moments that proved to be the tiny pieces that fit together to create something extraordinary. Reading together at the kitchen island, taking Polaroids in the park, watching Mitch and Oscar do the dishes—these small moments stacked atop one another were the magic that created a life—a happy life.
And the magic didn’t stop once Oscar was fast asleep. Oh, hell no! But it did turn decidedly less PG and a heck of a lot moreoh, God, please do me!
The things she and Mitch did with a popsicle behind closed doors were enough to make her blush at even the mention of the frozen treat. But it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex that had her feeling as if she were floating. By nature, Mitch Elliott always ran hot. But with her, between the sheets or against the wall or in her oversized tub, he was positively on fire. The man worshipped at the altar of Charlotte Ames. From the tips of her toes to her auburn hair, not a minute passed when she didn’t feel his presence, his intensity. She’d never been the object of anyone’s desire. Sure, she’d had boyfriends. But she’d always done the work, twisting herself into what she thought they wanted. Mitch wasn’t wrong when he’d accused her of that. But she’d been scared to let any man see the real her. With Mitch, she couldn’t hide. They were together morning, noon, and night. He’d kiss her as she drifted off to sleep at night, and she’d wake up to his lips meeting hers in the early morning hours. You’d think that after a few weeks of that, the passion would let up. But it didn’t. The desire in Mitch’s eyes only intensified.
Adjusting her hold on the camera, she zoomed in closer, and the man, clearly knowing what she was doing, tossed her a sly wink. To be seen by him, truly seen by him, was like basking in a tingly, warm light. Her finger hovered above the shutter button when a voice cut through the murmurs of the carnival crowd.
“How do you get any work done playing googly-eyes with Mitch all day?”
Harper Presley!
Charlotte lowered her camera and glanced to her right. She found not only Harper but also Penny by her side. While Penny looked like a normal human being, H was dressed like she was auditioning for the witness protection program. In a trucker hat pulled low with her long chestnut locks cascading around her face, she was most likely trying to dodge her piano students. Still, a comforting warmth filled her chest at the sight of her girls. She held up the camera. “You guys know that I’m working, and Mitch is my subject.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?Your subject?” H teased as she leaned in for a hug.
Charlotte tapped the bill of Harper’s giant hat. “Have you been discovered? I don’t see any children or Whitmore parents chasing after you.”
“No, thank God!” Harper replied, scanning the area. “You know how I feel about interacting with my students and families any more than I have to.”
Charlotte shared an amused glance with Penny.
“You’re taking one for the team tonight, H,” Penny teased as Charlotte surveyed her friends, then frowned. While she was happy to see them, these gals should be busy elsewhere at the Whitmore Carnival.
“I thought you were helping Libby over at the kids’ yoga tent,” she said to H, then turned to Penny. “And you and Rowen are running the gaming station. And you’re supposed to keep an eye on Oscar and Phoebe.”
“Don’t you worry! We decided to take a gaming break,” Penny replied, waving her off. “Rowen and the kids are shooting hoops at the basketball shoot-out booth.”
Charlotte frowned. “Does Rowen play basketball?”
Penny bit back a grin. “No! And Phoebe and Oscar are pretty much kicking his butt at it.”
“Why did you guys leave the video gaming trailer? I thought Rowen had to stay and supervise,” Charlotte pressed. Rowen’s company, Gale Gaming, had volunteered to supply a state-of-the-art gaming trailer as one of the carnival’s attractions.
“Rowen, Landon, and Erasmus are taking turns manning it,” Penny answered with a curious lilt to her voice.
“I had no idea Landon and Erasmus were here,” Charlotte remarked, searching the street, but it was too packed with people to even see the gaming trailer from where she stood—which raised another series of questions.
She was intrigued with the nanny match foursome Madelyn had put together. It wasn’t a stretch to say it was cloaked in a bit of mystery. Here’s what she knew. Rowen had Phoebe and Mitch had Oscar, but the guys were notoriously tight-lipped about Erasmus and Landon’s situations. She’d figured that they were either fathers or guardians. There had to be kids involved. It was a nanny match service that had brought them together, for Pete’s sake! But not even Mitch would share much about the men. And Penny, who was engaged to one of the members, didn’t get much more info either.
