Page 11 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
This isn’t flirty Camden or broody Camden. This is protective dad Camden, and I think I like this version even better.
“Early childhood development,” I correct him as I keep my eyes focused on the sweet baby sucking her thumb.
Her daddy crosses his big arms over his damp chest, and I force myself not to drool. Not an easy feat considering the way the thin cotton clings to his muscles. “What does that mean?”
What does what mean . . . ?
Oh shit. Right. He asked a question.
“It means I’ve got a master’s degree in babies,” I singsong in a voice that makes Sophie smile, and my heart melts a little in return. “No, seriously,” I smile at the man in front of me. “It’s the study of the physical, emotional, and social development of children from birth through eight years old. I also have a master’s in autism studies as well.”
“You sound overqualified to be a nanny,” he points out, and I want to laugh, but I don’t want to startle Sophie.
“I am. But I need a job, and you need help. I’m not permanent help, but I’d be willing to commit to the end of the season while I look for something in my field.”
“We haven’t even talked salary,” he bristles, seeming surprised I agreed so quickly.
“The whole city knows how much your last contract was for, Camden. I might not have put your face with your name, because honestly, I don’t really care about football enough to know who the players are. But I know you can afford me. And my brother is your center. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to screw me over.”
He stares at me for a long beat, one light-brown brow furrowed as if in deep thought. Most likely trying to decide whether he’s really okay with the crazy girl from the pharmacy and Sweet Temptations nannying for his baby.
Maybe I can help him with that too. I soften my voice and sway gently with Sophie in my arms. “I think this could work out for both of us, Camden.”
“You sure you want to do this?” he rasps, maybe still looking for an out.
One I’m not going to give him.
I glance down as Sophie’s tiny hand fists one of my loose curls, and a soothing warmth spreads through me before I look back up at Camden. Gorgeous, broody, frustrating Camden. “How about we see how this weekend goes and talk about it after?”
“I’ve got an away game tomorrow,” he warns.
“I know.”
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, smiling. “Easy is boring.”
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” Hadley stares at me in shock as I throw the last of my clothes into my bag. “Hot dad from the coffee shop is Luke’s teammate, and he was just downstairs...with his baby, and he wantsyouto be his nanny?”
Ryleigh’s mouth hangs open as she stares at our sister. “Why should she repeat it when you just did?”
“Do you two ever stop fighting?” Rainey asks from where she’s leaning against the door, her arms crossed over her chest, the ever-present, oldest-sister scowl firmly in place before she turns that glare on me. Then it morphs into more of a pitying purse of her lips. “A nanny, Holly? Really? If you wanted to do that, you could do it for me.”
I squirm under her eyes. My sister and I would never be able to work together. Rainey is too much of a control freak, and I’m... well, I’m not. “It’s not permanent. Just for a few months until I can find something in my field. And I didn’t make any promises past giving it a try.”
“Exactly how hot is hot dad?” Ryleigh asks Hadley, then lies back on the bed, clutching my stuffed bunny against her chest. “Ohh, and how old is he? I’m trying to get a visual.”
I yank my sweater out from under her head as Hadley hands Ryleigh her phone. “I’m saying he’s at least thirty.”
What the hell?
“Ohhh...” Ryleigh hisses as she blows up whatever photo she’s looking at. “Now that’s a hotdaddy.”
I grab the phone from her hand and see the playback from one of the security cameras. It’s Camden walking in earlier, holding Sophie protectively against him. The muscles in his arms are bulging, but he holds her so gently, my ovaries ache. My sisters aren’t wrong. He’s definitely hot.
“According to Wikipedia, he’s thirty-two, never been married, has one sister, and is on his second NFL team,” Rainey adds, her face buried in her Google app. “But it doesn’t mention anything about a baby or a baby momma.”
“Well, I’ve met Sophie, and she’s the sweetest little thing.” I look away and shove the last of my clothes in the bag, then toss in my makeup case. “He seems...private,” I add. “But Luke had good things to say about him, and it’s a job. One I’m taking, for now. I already let Dad know, and now you do too.”
