Page 12 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
“Have you been to D.C. before?” I ask casually, though my pulse kicks harder.
Her shoulders stiffen—barely—but I catch it. Then she shrugs. “A few times. Conferences, mostly.”
Conferences. Yeah. Like the one where we ended up in my room and left me wrecked by morning.
She meets my gaze, eyes cool, steady. “Why?”
I let a slow smile curve, one that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “No reason.”
But she knows I’m not buying it. And I know she’s lying. The tension hums hotter than any motor in this house. And for the first time in a long while, I’m not sure if hiring her is the smartest move I’ve made, or the one that’s going to burn me alive.
Her laptop clicks open again, the glow of the screen lighting her face. She keeps her focus tight on the work, rattling off what she’ll need to get started—network maps, passwords, physical access to sensors, all of it. Her tone is crisp, professional, and detached.
“Alright,” I say, pushing back from the desk. “Then you should see what you’re dealing with.”
She nods, snaps the laptop shut again, and slings the bag over her shoulder. I lead her out the back door, the chair humming low as the gravel crunches beneath her boots.
The morning has opened up into a wide Texas sky, pale blue stretching forever. I don’t miss the way her head tips back, her eyes scanning the horizon. City girl. She’s trying not to show it, but the expanse unsettles her.
“Is this the whole ranch?” she asks, shading her eyes.
“Part of it,” I answer. “Iron Stallion runs cattle, horses, and a rodeo program. My brothers are the brawn, and I’m the brains alongside my sister. I’m sure you’ll meet them all at some point during your stay here.”
She glances down at me, sharp eyes catching on the chair. She doesn’t linger or flinch, just nods, businesslike. But I catch the faintest twitch in her jaw—like she’s reminding herself to keep it professional.
I take her through the barns first, sensors blinking at each entry, cameras swiveling on their mounts. She takes notes, muttering about blind spots, signal strength, and outdated firmware. Her focus is razor-sharp, and for a moment, I almost forget. Almost.
But then she tucks a stray hair behind her ear, and I remember the way those hands clawed at me, the way she’d gasped when I hauled her onto my lap, daring me to prove her wrong. My grip tightens on the rim of the chair.
We end at the south gate, the weakest point in the system. She crouches to check the panel, fingers moving quickly over the keypad. “Your encryption’s a joke,” she says flatly. “Anyone with a laptop and a bad attitude could be in by lunch.”
I huff out a laugh. “Good thing you’re here then.”
She doesn’t look up, doesn’t take the bait. Just types something into her tablet and stands, dusting off her knees. “I’ll draw up an overhaul plan. Shouldn’t take more than a few weeks to implement.”
Weeks. That’s how long she’ll be here. Living under my roof, walking through my world every damn day, pretending she’s never seen me naked.
For six months, I’ve been telling myself that night was a fluke. A one-time slip. And now she’s here, pretending she doesn’t remember me. Whatever game she’s playing, one thing’s certain: we’re just getting started.
5
TESSA
The maid’s heels click against the polished floor ahead of me as she opens the door to my assigned room.
She steps back and waves me in. “Here you are, Miss Carter,” she says politely, her voice soft.
I step inside and stop, jaw dropping at the sight in front of me. This bedroom is ridiculous. Stupidly, impossibly luxurious. A king-sized bed dominates the space, sheets crisp and perfectly white, pillows stacked like clouds. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of rolling ranchlands stretching as far as the eye can see. My eyes wander to the open bathroom door—marble counters, a tub big enough to swim laps in, and gold fixtures gleaming in the sunlight. I can’t even process it all without feeling a small wave of panic.
And yet, I hate it. Not because it’s ugly—far from it—but because of the heat pressing down like a living thing, the circumstances that have led me here, and the fact that I am completely out of my element after realizing whose world I just walked into. Of all the ranches in Texas, why did this one have to be his?
This isn’t my world, or the life I know. Every polished surface, impossibly comfortable chair, and sprawling inch of this palace of a ranch is a reminder that I don’t belong.
My suitcases are already situated by the foot of the bed, waiting to be unpacked. I sink onto the edge of the bed, tugging at my shirt to pull some of the warmth away. It’s beautiful. Stunning. But all I feel is frustration and tension coiling in my chest. A city girl like me has been dropped into a Texas ranch belonging to the man I had a one-night stand with six months ago, under a false name, hiding from a different man who wishes me dead.
The maid clears her throat behind me. “If you need anything, Miss Carter, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I nod absently, too absorbed in my thoughts to respond properly. She gives me a small, knowing smile and slips out, leaving me in the quiet, sun-drenched luxury of the room. The door clicks shut behind her.
