Page 41 of The Nanny and the Hothead
No kidding!
Charlotte shook her head, clearing the hangover cobwebs. She could barely believe it. But Penny wouldn’t lie to her.
This was happening! She’d gotten hammered and woke up a nanny.
Her gaze softened as she took in the chef—the chef who had a secret son. This had to be the child Madelyn had told her about—Oscar, the six-year-old, who could use ninety-nine percent of her kindness, while the client,Mitch, would benefit from the one percent of her that didn’t give an inch. Well, she was living up to her end of the bargain. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if there could be more to this hotheaded chef? And while that might be true, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook yet. He hadn’t outright lied. But he hadn’t told her the entire truth either.
“And just so you know,” Rowen chimed, back on the phone. “You haven’t been kidnapped, Charlotte. Not even close! I hacked into your phone. I hope you don’t mind. I was able to do it through Penny’s phone. As far as pinpointing your current location, you’re in southwest Colorado, not far from Telluride.”
“Rowen, babe,” Penny exclaimed. “Just because youcanuse your super-nerd brain to hack into a phone doesn’t mean youshould.” But Charlotte wasn’t paying attention to the couple on the phone anymore. All she could do was stare into Mitch’s blue eyes. She’d never noticed the color before. They were a deep shade of blue—almost navy. And they were hauntingly lovely, like the sky seconds before storm clouds exploded into a fury of rain and hail.
“I think we’re good here. Thanks for your help, guys. I’m hanging up now,” Mitch said, tapping the end-call icon while holding her gaze as if he, too, had fallen into a trance.
The line went quiet, and then it was the two of them. Her bottom lip trembled—actually trembled as her breathing grew ragged. What was wrong with her? She didn’t like this guy—not like that. This had to be part of the hangover, right? The result of severe dehydration and skyrocketing amounts of adrenaline. But before she could even process her body’s treacherous response to the hothead chef, Mitch looked away. He stared at her hand as she clutched his wrist in a white-knuckled death grip. She stared at it, too. Strangely, she couldn’t bring herself to let go when a dizzying current zinged through her body. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, electricity pulsed from his body to hers. And hello, Tingle City! The man looked at her as if he wanted to devour her in one bite. His laser-focused intensity could melt a gal into a pool of goo.
“Do you remember what happened when we were in the hallway after I took care of that jerk who had you cornered?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, barely a whisper.
“Yes,” she got out, lucky to even form the word as her nipples tightened into pebbled peaks.
“You went to change out of your mermaid tail, and then you asked if I’d wait for you. And I did, Charlotte. I waited,” he said, his voice taking on a gentler tone.
She swallowed hard, recalling the shock as well as the utter relief when he’d appeared out of nowhere, then sent the hairy beast of a man packing. And while she’d been surprised, something inside her knew that, although he was a hotheaded chef, she was safe with him. Suddenly, with her hand wrapped around his wrist, she was painfully aware of his warm skin and muscled forearm. Her heart hammering, she steadied herself. “I remember asking you to stay,” she conceded.
“After you changed,” he went on, “you said you were hungry and that you wanted food truck pizza. And then—”
Heaven! She’d told him she wanted heaven. It all came back to her.
“And then we each ate a slice from the Heavenly Pizza food truck. And the cooks in the food truck knew you, right?” she interrupted.
He nodded as a blush graced his cheeks.
“And I took your picture,” she continued as her thoughts fluttered back to that moment—back to sitting on the bench with him. And while she’d been pretty wasted, she couldn’t deny that when she’d taken his picture, she’d done it without worrying about what he’d think or what he expected. She’d simply done it because she had to do it. Because, in that sweet snippet of time, she’d witnessed the truth. And as a photographer, it was her job to capture it.
“You fell asleep on the bench after that,” he finished. But he’d failed to mention the part about how she’d curled up in his lap or how he’d brushed the hair from her eyes—that she could never forget.
“I know I owe you for getting rid of that creep in the bar, but you still lied to me, Mitch.”
“I didn’t,” he replied on a pained breath.
“You didn’t mention a thing about the nanny position.”
“I didn’t know you were the nanny candidate until you showed me your necklace. And before I could figure out how to tell you who I was, you were telling me you’d lost your job and didn’t find your Prince Charming. You called him Mr. Cheesy Something.”
Mr. Cheesy Forever.
“I said that?” she squeaked.
“Yeah, and if we’re throwing around the title of liar, you did your fair share of lying last night,” he bit back.
She released his wrist and stared him down. “I did no such thing!”
“Grilled cheese,” he growled—like that meant anything!
She scoffed at the man. “What are you talking about?”
“I was right behind you during the speed date bullshit. I could see your answers. You lied and agreed to whatever the douche bags across from you said,” he snapped, all smug and self-righteous.
She could feel herself turning full-on redheaded tomato. “That wasn’t lying. I had a very good feeling that I was supposed to meet—”
