Page 56 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar
He nods, then lowers himself onto the sofa beside me, taking a sip of his own drink.
The air between us hums. Thick. Charged.
Then, softly, “Did you come here to talk, Tamare? I assume you have questions.”
I nearly laugh, but it comes out more like a sharp exhale.
“Yeah. I did. I came to talk about Alex, actually. But then I saw a floating head, and now I’m re-evaluating every life choice I’ve ever made, including eating gas station sushi that one time and swiping right on you.”
He winces like I slapped him.
“Wait—Alex? Is something wrong?”
And that. That little shift—his body going alert, his voice tightening with concern, the way he immediately pivots from ghost head chaos to full-on Dad Mode—that’s the moment I melt.
This man loves his son.
Visibly. Fiercely.
That’s the kind of love that makes you feel safe just being near it.
The kind of love that makes your ovaries whisper sweet nothings and your soul think maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to hope.
“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, not wrong, exactly. But I’ve noticed he’s always hungry. Like constantly. And I’m not judging, I swear—I’ve seen you feed him. He just eats like three kids his age. I’m wondering if maybe, I don’t know, if he’s had his thyroid checked? Or maybe his metabolism is high?”
Dane’s quiet for a moment.
Too quiet.
His glass is halfway to his mouth, but he lowers it slowly.
His gaze is warm, adoration in his expression and me? I’m stumped.
“That’s what you were worried about?” he says, eyes intense. “You were worried about my son’s health?”
“Yes?” I say, uncertain now. “Why do you look like I just solved a riddle?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
He just sets his drink down, turns toward me fully, and his gaze drops to my lips for a breath too long.
“Goddamn it, Pretty Girl, you are absolutely fucking perfect. Do you know that? Do you know how amazing you are?”
I swallow.
He grins and takes both glasses, placing them on the table. Then he moves closer to me on the couch.
“We need to talk, Pretty Girl. About a lot of things.”
Oh boy.
My stomach does a triple axel.
Including, apparently, whatever the hell that floating head was.
Chapter 17
Dane
