Page 45 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
“Pink hair, Daisy?” I continue. “You thought the school wouldn’t notice?”
Her small voice pipes up, shaky. “It was just the ends.”
“That’s not the point,” I shoot back. “You know there are rules. You broke them.”
Tessa glances at her, guilt all over her face. “It was my idea.”
I turn to her. “You think that makes it better?”
She swallows hard. “No. But I didn’t think—“
“Exactly.” I let out a sharp breath, forcing myself not to yell. “You didn’t think. You’re supposed to be the responsible one here, Tessa.”
Her jaw tightens, and she mutters under her breath, “Yeah, I’m aware.”
That quiet, defensive tone only makes me more frustrated, mostly because I’m not only mad at her, I’m mad at myself for not noticing in the first place. Am I really that terrible of a father?
I glance at Daisy in the rearview mirror. She’s blinking fast, eyes glossy. Damn it.
I sigh. “Look, sweetheart, I’m not angry because your hair’s pink. I’m angry because you didn’t think about the consequences. You’re smart, and you know better.”
She sniffles. “I just wanted to match Tessa.”
That hits me right in the gut.
Tessa’s head snaps toward Daisy. “Oh, honey—“
But I lift a hand. “No. She’s gotta hear this.” Then, softer: “Matching someone’s hair doesn’t make them like you more, Daisy. Tessa already cares about you. But next time, talk to me first before doing something that could land you in trouble, alright?”
Daisy nods, wiping her eyes.
The rest of the drive is quieter. Tessa keeps glancing out the window, and every few miles, I catch her reflection in the glass, lips pressed tight, shoulders tense.
I finally say, “You could’ve told me.”
She sighs. “Yeah. I know. I just wanted to give her something fun. She’s been working so hard, Jace. I thought it’d be like a reward.”
Her voice cracks on reward, and something in me softens. “You made a bad call, but your heart was in the right place.”
Her gaze flicks to me then, cautious, searching, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The air feels heavier, but not angry anymore. Just… full.
Even when she’s being lectured, she carries herself with a quiet dignity, a sense of responsibility that goes beyond her years. She cares about Daisy, genuinely, and it shows in everything she does.
A small, reluctant pride swells in my chest. She’s not just a nanny or a tutor. She’s becoming a part of our little world here. And I can’t deny that seeing her care, seeing her grow into this role, makes something twist and tighten inside me.
I shake my head slightly, forcing the thought away. Focus, Jace. She’s here for Daisy, not for you. But even so, I catch myself thinking about the gentle way she spoke to my daughter, the way she stayed calm under pressure.
Respect. Affection. Something deeper, maybe. Something I can’t quite name yet.
I pull into the driveway, finally letting out a slow breath. The scolding is over. The lesson is learned. And as I watch Daisy hop out, holding her bag and muttering apologies, and Tessa following quietly behind, I can’t help the small, satisfied grin that tugs at my lips.
They’re learning. Both of them. And maybe, in some stubborn, roundabout way, so am I.
19
TESSA
I watch Daisy fidget nervously in her chair, silently hoping she’s learned her lesson from today’s hair fiasco. But to be honest, I can’t muster even a shred of remorse. It was just a few colorful strands. Harmless fun. But Jace and that damned vice principal didn’t see it that way.
