Page 10 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
The women pass me the casseroles unceremoniously, eager to see Marley, I’m sure. They follow me through the front hall, complimenting my new digs. But no surround sound system or new sectional could compare to the shock of finding a beautiful woman sitting in my dining room at a table that clearly screams dinner for two.
“Hi,” Jessa says cheerfully. “I’m Jessa, the nanny.”
“The nanny, huh?” Scarlett murmurs, turning to me with eyebrows waggling.
I narrow my eyes at her. Don’t even start.
“I’m Maren, and this is Scarlett. It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard great things,” Maren says, walking directly to Jessa with a hand outstretched.
“Already?” Jessa laughs.
They clasp hands warmly, exchanging genuine smiles.
“You made an excellent first impression,” Maren says. “Something about being a baby wizard?”
Jessa shakes her head, smiling. “Oh, a whisperer.”
“That was it!”
They both laugh. Leave it to Maren to become fast friends with Jessa.
“I’ll put these in the fridge,” I say, casseroles in hand as I make my way to the kitchen.
Working some Tetris magic, I manage to find space in the fridge for both the casseroles and our dinner leftovers. I make a quick job of clearing the counters before securing a cork into the bottle of red Jessa liked so much and tucking it back in the wine rack.
When I reemerge from the kitchen, I clock some movement in Marley’s bassinet. There she is, wide awake with big blue eyes blinking up at me.
With a smile, I lift my baby girl into my arms, cuddling her against my chest. She reaches for my shirt instinctively with one set of chubby fingers, the others finding their home in her gummy little mouth. Is it possible to love anything more than I love this girl?
The quiet, serene moment is interrupted by Scarlett, as it often is, who squeals at the sight of Marley in my arms. She rushes to my side, her face fixed in a look of complete and utter adoration.
“Oh my God, she’s so fat. Has she always been this fat? Hi, baby.” Scarlett reaches out to caress my daughter’s chunky leg, and Marley gurgles with each ticklish touch.
“Thanks, Scarlett,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. Now I have to worry about overfeeding my kid.
“That’s totally normal,” Jessa says quickly, reading my mind. “Some babies have extra fat storage for developmental purposes.”
“I thought you said you were, and I quote, ‘wildly unqualified for the job.’” Maren chuckles, one hand propped on her hip like a scolding schoolteacher. “Sounds like you know plenty.”
Jessa shrugs, her smile humble and amused at the same time. “I owe it to Connor for giving me a chance.”
“She acts like I wasn’t the one begging for help,” I say, arching one eyebrow. “Did she tell you about the bottle slash formula incident?”
“Oh God.” Jessa giggles. “He didn’t know you should warm a bottle before feeding the baby.” She smiles, the faint freckles on her cheeks and nose growing more noticeable with the flush of her skin.
If only I could brush my lips against that smile . . .
“Uh-huh.” Scarlett’s fascinated gaze pings between us.
Maren laughs politely, always the one to recover from awkward situations first.
Fuck, I must look like some jackass, flirting with the nanny in front of my friends. But I’m not really flirting. Inside jokes aren’t flirting, right?
“Well, we’d love to show you around the city—” Maren says, just as Scarlett jumps in.
“If Connor is willing to give you a night off.” Scarlett cocks her head at me with a look that says, You expect me to believe you aren’t fucking the nanny?
“I’d love that. I won’t usually be here this late,” Jessa says quickly, as if she’s coming to my defense. “He just invited me to stay for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, did he?” Scarlett sings, inspecting her nails.
Goddammit. Time to say good-night.
“It’s getting late. I’d better get this one to sleep,” I say gruffly, wishing Marley looked at all tired. Instead, she’s wide-eyed and seems to be enjoying this just as much as Scarlett. “Thanks for bringing all the stuff by. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime. We’ll let ourselves out,” Maren says with a soft, apologetic smile.
I exchange hugs with the two women and Jessa follows them to the door, exchanging phone numbers and promises to connect soon. When I hear the front door click and Scarlett’s car exit the driveway, Jessa returns. This time, she’s wearing her red-orange sneakers and has her purse slung over her shoulder. I almost wish she didn’t have to go.
“I’d better get going too. I’m sure you’re exhausted after your first day back,” she says softly, her fingers tensing and untensing around her purse strap.
My heart twinges with an unfamiliar pang. I don’t want Jessa to leave. My mind races for reasons why she should stay . . . but I come up completely blank.
“I’ll walk you out.”
