Page 12 of Sunny Goes Cold Turkey
“No worries. Immy’s internal clock is off because we’ve been in Europe for a few weeks. We only had a few days at home before we came here.” He leans down to scoop her up, and she snuggles into his neck. “Help me get her to bed?”
“Sure.”
I follow him to Immy’s room, pinching the sensitive skin on my arm to keep me in the present before my imagination takes me somewhere I don’t belong. I pull down the comforter and adjust the pillow. Anders places her gently on the bed and pulls the covers over her, tucking them around her tiny form.
“G‘night, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
I sigh. I can’t help it, okay? Any red-blooded woman would sigh at that sight.
Anders follows me from her room, and I’m feeling self-conscious with my mangy mess of hopefully de-skunk-ified hair. Luckily, the suite is mostly dark. Maybe I can slip out before he turns on any more lights—
Click.
Too late.
The spacious living area is flooded with light and reality. I attempt to finger comb my hair into some semblance of order, but my fingers catch in the concoction that Imogen applied to my hair so many hours ago. It’s fine. I’m just the nanny. No one cares if the nanny has cute hair.
“How did it go today?” he asks, and I can tell he’s smiling even though I’m not looking.
I’m fully focused on finding my sandals. I kicked them off near the couch before our marathon nap. “It was great. Your daughter is very well behaved, and so intelligent.” Where are my shoes?
“Thank you.” He clears his throat, “I guess you two figured out how to get rid of the smell?” He is really smiling. I wonder if he always smiles so much, or if I'm just lucky.
Or maybe he’s flirting with me. I dig my nails into my palms to stop that train of thought. He’s a celebrity heartthrob adored by millions who can crook his finger and any woman would come running. Anders is a player, you’re the nanny, and you’re in love with Micah. Act like it.
“You can’t smell it anymore?”
He shakes his head, and his grin makes his blue eyes crinkle at the corners.
I sigh with relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Maybe Imogen’s YouTube goo actually worked. Some of my usual confidence returns. “Imogen helped me find a mix of stuff to put on my hair that was supposed to get rid of the smell. I guess it did the trick. She’s a little genius. Honestly. She’s incredibly bright for her age.”
“She is, and she knows it. She tries to boss me around every day.” His voice is full of love for the little girl. It’s silent for a beat and he says, “Well, thanks for your help.”
Oh, right. I’m supposed to be leaving right now. “You’re welcome. Same time tomorrow?” I ask as he leads me toward the door.
How does Anders smell so good after a long day of work? He has this clean ocean scent that makes me feel like I’m standing on the bow of a boat with the wind in my face. Everything about him sends a thrill through me, even his scent. I need to get away from him so I can get my head on straight.
“Yep.” He opens the door for me, swinging it wide so I can pass through. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I nod.
See? I can be professional. This is a business transaction. I am nailing this nanny thing. I’ll feel like my usual self in no time.
He closes the door behind me. I take one step on the walkway and realize I’ve forgotten my shoes.
No way am I knocking on that door to get my sandals. It’s okay. I can get them tomorrow. I’d rather walk to my car and drive home barefoot than admit that I’m so flustered by Anders and his dumb, sexy ocean scent that I forgot to put on shoes. This is fine. I just need one good night of sleep and tomorrow I’ll be back in control.
For now, I’m stepping lightly on the sandstone path toward my car, trying not to think about scorpions or lizards or any other nocturnal creatures my bare feet might encounter in the dark. The thought has me high stepping on my tiptoes like a cartoon burglar.
“Sunny,” Anders' voice behind me makes me jump. He jogs toward me. “You forgot your shoes.”
Sinkholes always open up and swallow cars and houses at inconvenient times, but never when you need them. Like right now. I would appreciate it if a sinkhole would save me from this moment. Where’s a natural disaster when a gal wants one?
I blush from my face all the way down to my conspicuously bare toes when Anders hands me my shoes. “Oh, those. Right.” It’s strange to me that Anders Beck was just holding my favorite worn-in sandals. I drop them on the ground and slide my feet into them one at a time. “Thanks. Not sure how I forgot these,” I say with an awkward chuckle.
“Immy’s mother calls it Mom Brain. You’ll get used to it.”
My heart sinks. “Is Nanny Brain a thing?” I try to joke. If so, I think I’ve had Nanny Brain since he got here yesterday.
