Page 68 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
Oh no!
Libby glanced at her outfit—the same outfit she’d worn yesterday. The outfit seen around the world and in outer space.
Maybe the matchmaker didn’t notice.
Madelyn drank her in for a beat as the whisper of a grin pulled at the corners of the woman’s lips.
Nope, she noticed.
“Let me make the introductions,” Madelyn said, glancing around the room. “Libby Lamb, this is Finola Cress and her great-grandson, Sebastian.”
“So, you’re Libby Lamb.” Granny Fin eyed her closely. With her salt-and-pepper hair piled into a bun, the woman couldn’t be much more than five feet tall, but in the intimidation department, she’d easily hit Raz’s height. The woman shared the same curious gray eyes as her grandson. And like Raz, she could dole out her fair share of intensity. “You’re the spiritual advisor and the nanny?”
Was that an accusation or a question? She couldn’t tell. And more than that—had Finola seen the viral video, or had Madelyn simply shared the whole spiritual advisor part?
“Miss Lamb?” Finola pressed like a seasoned interrogator.
“Yes, I’m both the nanny and the spiritual advisor,” she stammered.
“Madelyn tells me you’re good with children.”
The woman didn’t let up.
Libby tightened her hold on the wrap. “I’ve taught yoga to school-age kids. My degree is in elementary physical education, and I helped care for my younger brothers growing up.”
Finola Cress narrowed her gaze. “This yoga business.”
“Yes,” Libby eked out.
The woman’s iron demeanor dissolved. “Any suggestions for a cranky neck?”
Libby held back a king-sized sigh of relief.
“Yes, actually, there are quite a few exercises for cervicalgia,” she blurted, happy to change the subject.
“Cer-vic-what?” the woman repeated.
“Cervicalgia. It’s the medical term for neck pain. Here, watch me and do what I do. Roll your head over to your right shoulder, then allow it to fall forward. Now, over to your left shoulder. Inhale at your shoulder and exhale as you roll.”
Granny Fin did a few more rolls. “Hmm,” she hummed, a skeptical huff of a sound. “There’s some relief. I’ll admit that,” the woman answered, then crossed her arms and turned to the matchmaker. “Are you sure about this arrangement, Madelyn?”
This couldn’t be good.
“I am. Libby is the right match for Sebastian and Erasmus, Finola,” Madelyn purred.
“We shall see,” Granny Fin answered with a scowl. This woman was one tough cookie. And hopefully, one tough cookie who hadn’t seen the viral video. She couldn’t imagine that piece of internet infamy going over well with the ball-busting woman.
“It’s good to see you, Granny. But what are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Raz said and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek.
“Change of plans, dear. Didn’t you get my email? It took me bloody forever to figure out how to send it. You know technology is no friend of mine. I even mentioned it to Callista and Calliope. Did they not tell you either? It was our friend Madelyn’s idea. She suggested we leave a day early.”
“Did she?” Raz asked, eyeing Madelyn.
The matchmaker smoothed her trademark red scarf. “Of course. With the arrangements made, I saw no need to delay. And Sebastian tells me he’s quite excited to explore Rickety Rock, Colorado. Not to mention, Finola and I have plans here in Denver. I promised her I’d show her all the city has to offer, and we’ve got a few philanthropic pursuits to investigate.”
Philanthropic pursuits?
“For the foundation?” Raz asked his granny, and she would have sworn there was a shake to his voice.
