Page 27 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
Because the truth is, the thought of her leaving has been eating at me from the moment she told me that her work is complete. She’s been a storm since she landed here, turning my house, routines, and world inside out. And damn if I don’t want to let her go even if I know she’s nothing but a pink haired ball of trouble.
Still, a nanny? Christ.
I lean back in my chair, studying her like she’s just dropped a live grenade on my desk.
“You really think you can handle Daisy?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, more test than question.
Her chin tips up. “I know I can. I like kids.”
“Liking kids and living with one as their nanny are two different things,” I shoot back. I picture Daisy’s sulks, her stubborn streak, the way she clings to routines like lifelines. “She’ll chew you up and spit you out if you’re not steady.”
Tessa crosses her arms, eyes narrowing. “Then give me the chance to prove it.”
There’s steel in her tone, the same edge I’ve heard when she’s tearing into code like it owes her money. And hell if that doesn’t spark something in me.
I scrub a hand over my jaw, buying myself a second. Logic says no. Instinct says maybe. My gut—the part that hasn’t steered me wrong on the ranch in years—says yes.
What do I do? Daisy needs a nanny and in the two days since Mercy quit, it’s been hell juggling work and a boundless bundle of seven-year-old energy. I need to find a nanny quick, a qualified one, but until then, I need help and it seems she’s walked straight into my office.
“One month,” I say finally. “You get a one-month trial period. If Daisy hates it, or if you crack, we call it quits. No hard feelings.”
I’m considering this because I’m desperate and I’ll use that month to find someone more reliable because Tessa ain’t it.
Her shoulders drop with relief, “I’ll do my best.”
“I expect nothing less. Now, let’s go tell Daisy the good news,” I decree, wheeling myself from behind my desk.
“Now?” Tessa chokes following me out of the basement.
“No better time than the present, Miss Monroe,” I smirk, enjoying seeing how unsure she is.
I ask one of the maids to call Daisy into the living room. As we wait, I find myself joining Tessa in the panic. My throat is dryeven though I’ve done harder things than this. I’ve walked into actual warzones with less hesitation. But telling my seven-year-old daughter she’s getting a new nanny? That feels like stepping onto a landmine.
Before I get the chance to change my mind, Daisy pads in, her sketchbook clutched to her chest, pencil tucked behind one ear.
“Yes Daddy? You called for me,” she asks, eyes flicking from me to Tessa, who is sitting a little awkwardly on the sofa.
I clear my throat. “Bug, you know Tessa.”
She nods. “Yes, she’s the computer lady.”
“That she is, but she’s also going to be helping us out around here.”
Daisy narrows her eyes. “Helping with what?”
I reach out and take her hand in mine, tugging her closer. “With you as your new nanny. She’ll be taking over from Mercy,” I explain.
The word nanny lands like a curse. Daisy stiffens, her small mouth pressing into a thin line. “I don’t need a new nanny. I have you, grandpa, my uncles and aunties.”
Her tone slices through me. Daisy has never been keen on the idea of a nanny and I feel like she’s run off a few. I just can’t prove it. But in as much as we are all a big family, we have work,responsibilities and she needs constant care and attention that we cannot provide.
I try to hold steady, keep my voice calm. “I’ll still be here, Bug. But sometimes Daddy needs help. Tessa’s really smart, and she’ll be fun to have around—“
“She’s a stranger.” Daisy’s voice cracks, sharp. Her cheeks flush, and she hugs the sketchbook tighter. “I don’t want her here.”
The words punch harder than they should. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tessa’s smile falter, just for a beat. She drops to a crouch, trying anyway. “Hey, Daisy. I know we don’t know each other very well right now but I’d be happy to get to know each other better if you give me a chance. What do you think?”
Daisy doesn’t answer. She spins on her heel and stomps up the stairs.
