Page 42 of Nanny for Grumpy Grant
“Silvercreek isn’t all bad, huh?” I ask, tipping my glass toward her.
She rolls her eyes but smiles. “Still plenty bad. Just… less bad tonight.”
She takes a sip, then goes quiet for a second. I see the shift in her, the way people do when something heavy’s bubbling up. She opens her mouth to speak, and then sighs and sips her drink instead.
“Hey,” I say. “You’ve got something to say, I’m listening.”
“I like two guys,” she blurts.
What? That’s a stunt. For a second, I just blink and don’t know what to say. “Oh?”
She groans. “God, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No judgment,” I say, setting my glass down and leaning forward. “Are they at least good guys?”
“They’re… complicated. One’s practically a brother to me. The other’s my boss.”
My mouth tightens slightly. Caleb and Grant. No need to guess. Damn them.
I nod, slow. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. It does.” She rests her chin on her hand and sighs. “It’s like I came home to reset my life and just… walked into a mess.”
“Well,” I say, swallowing my irritation, “for what it’s worth, I’m not your boss. And I’m definitely not your brother.”
Her eyes flick to mine, startled.
“I’m just saying,” I continue. “If the other options are too complicated… I’m right here.”
She laughs, a bit breathless. “But you are … You are Cole Carter.”
“So?” I say, pretending I don’t know what comes next.
“You know, my mom warned me about you when I was fifteen.”
“Did she now?” I feign outrage.
“She told me to stay away from the Carter boy with cocky smiles.”
“Sounds like solid parenting advice.” I grin. “Shame you didn’t listen.”
And when she laughs again—this time without holding back—I know one thing for sure: This girl? She’s worth every complication.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “Your mom was right, you know.”
Her brows lift. “You think so?”
I sigh, letting the words settle on my tongue before saying them. “Yup. I haven’t exactly built myself a great reputation.”
She studies me now, her teasing edge gone. “You mean the whole town heartbreaker thing?”
“Yeah.” I nod slowly. “It’s not like I’ve tried to be one, but… I’ve dated a lot. Nothing serious ever stuck. Not because I didn’t want it to. But the girls I went out with—most of them never really gave it a chance. I’d hear later their moms warned them off me. Said I wasn’t the type to settle down.”
There’s a beat of silence. I expect her to laugh it off, maybe make a quip about her own mother’s warning, but instead, she reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers.
The gesture’s simple, but it hits me harder than I expect.
I look down at our hands, then turn mine to hold hers properly. My other hand slides over the top, warm and sure. Her thumb brushes mine. The noise of the bar fades for a second.
