Page 30 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
Wait, I can’t allow myself to think that. This is a dangerous game I’m playing, and I’m better off forgetting last night and sticking to the roles of my new job. I don’t want the lines to get blurred. I’m hiding too many secrets, and when the time to leave comes, I need to be able to do so without anything holding me back.
Picking up my clothes, I get dressed slowly, my whole body protesting. What did that mountain of a cowboy do to me? Did he plow through me or something? I did not for a second find myself complaining, but now my body is feeling it. But under all that hurt is a delicious undertone, body humming with the remnants of pleasure I felt last night.
Still, how did we get from discussing my new contract to fucking each other’s brains out? It’s the liquor. I blame the bourbon; otherwise, I will have to take responsibility, and I do not want to.
When I finally drag myself out of his office and into the kitchen for some coffee and much-needed painkillers, he’s there. Perched on his chair, mug in hand, hair damp from a shower. Fresh shirt, clean jeans, boots already on. He looks like the picture of control, while I feel like the smudged, rumpled opposite.
“Good morning,” I mutter, reaching for the nearest mug.
He doesn’t look at me right away. Just takes a long sip, jaw tight. Finally, he sets the mug down and meets my eyes. For a second, something flickers there—desire, all the memories we shared last night—but it’s gone before I can pin it down.
“About last night, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen,” he says. His voice is steady, measured. “I was out of line.”
The words land like a punch to the ribs. I grip the edge of the counter, forcing a shrug. “Yeah, well, bourbon tends to do that.”
His gaze sharpens, like he doesn’t buy the casual act, but he doesn’t push. “Do you still want the job as Daisy’s nanny?”
I don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, I do.”
Sienna made it clear that I have to stay at Iron Stallion. Convincing Jace was already hard enough. I’m not going to blow it just because we slept together. It’s happened once and we were able to move past it, we can do it again.
Or can we? I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?
“That’s good. As long as you do your job, I’ll stay out of your business. No blurred lines. No more mistakes.”
I nod, keeping my face smooth and voice light. “Crystal clear, boss. Lanes, boundaries, duly noted.”
But inside, I’m a storm. Part of me is relieved—this is safer, simpler. But another part, the one that still remembers how hefelt inside me, how he said my name like a prayer and a curse, aches with disappointment I have no business feeling.
“Guess that’s settled then,” he murmurs, but I still manage to hear him.
I force a smile, lift the mug to my lips. “Seems so.”
He nods once, curt, like a general ending a briefing. Then he grabs his hat from the counter, wheels past me, and out the door.
The silence he leaves behind is louder than anything. If I’m to stay safe, I have to stay here, and the only way to do that is to do my job diligently. So, no more fooling around with the boss. I’ll do my part as long as he does his.
Best of luck to both of us.
The next few days blur together into something resembling routine, though I’m not sure I’d call it my routine. Daisy wakes at dawn like some kind of tiny rooster, bounding into my room when the sky is still bruised with night. I’m dragged out of bed, bleary-eyed, to braid her hair, pack her lunch, and make sure she doesn’t “forget” to brush her teeth.
She’s not doing this to make sure I stick to my duties, but to punish, and boy, does she make sure I’m feeling it. Daisy has made it clear that she does not like me, and she is not hiding it. Thus why she is doing her level best to make my life and work as hard as possible.
By seven a.m., she’s out the door with her backpack, and I’m already covered in a fine layer of dust from just walking across the damn yard. Some days I have to drop her off at school, and sometimes she takes the bus. Her schedule is taking a bit to get used to, but I’m doing my best.
Although deep down inside, the city girl in me is screaming.
There’s no air conditioning here, just open windows and ceiling fans that only stir hot air around. The heat is overwhelming, and on the rare occasions when it does rain, the mud sticks to everything: my shoes, jeans, and the hem of the one dress I thought would be “cute but casual.”
Then there are the rules. Jace runs the ranch like a drill sergeant in the military. He still has the army ranger blood running in him and it’s pissing me the fuck off that he expects me to behave like one of his little soldiers. Tessa do this. Miss Monroe do that. Tessa go there. Miss Monroe come here. It’s aggravating and if it doesn’t stop soon, I’ll walk into a bull pen and let one of those massive beasts they are rearing plow through me.
Then there is his family. They aren’t that bad. I actually haven’t met their old man, just seen him in passing but he resembles his sons greatly. Beckett and Zane treat every duty like a competition, always bickering like children and not the married men that they are. Ella and I haven’t interacted much, so I don’t have much of an opinion on her, or Ava and Quinn.
It’s like I stumbled into a cowboy boarding school with no exit. I’m walking on eggshells around everyone, and it’s messing with my sanity. I’m a whisper away from going crazy.
But I grit my teeth and get through it, reminding myself this isn’t forever. I’m safe here. That’s what matters. Richard can’t get past the walls of Iron Stallion, not with this fortress of grumpy cowboys guarding it.
But safety feels like a thin blanket when every time I turn around, Jace is there. Watching.
