Page 56 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
She smirks. “Translation: you won’t look at it again.”
“Good guess.”
She stands and gives me a gentle smile. “You’re a stubborn man, Jace Morgan. Just don’t wait until she’s gone to figure it out.”
After she leaves, I sit staring at the blank laptop screen, thinking about Tessa’s laugh, her stubbornness, her quiet strength. And for the first time, I admit it—not out loud, not even in a whisper, but inside, where the truth can’t hide.
I’m in love with her.
There is no more denying it. The past couple of weeks, since my surprise birthday party, have been incredible. Now I know what it feels like to have her in my life—love her, hold her, fuck her—and I don’t want to let her go. She was supposed to be temporary, but now I find myself wanting to hold on and never let go.
Question is, will she want to stay? Does she share the same feelings I do? She has so much baggage and a lot of secrets that are holding her back. But our future cannot remain uncertain forever, which is why as soon as she’s back, we are sitting down and having a long talk about the next steps in our relationship.
With that thought in mind, I get back to work, busying my mind to stop myself from thinking of her.
The storm rolls in after dinner. Clouds stack heavily over the ridge until the whole sky turns the color of bruised steel. Before long, thunder rumbles in the distance, just as it starts raining. The power flickers once, then steadies.
Already done with my work for the day, I retire to the living room and pour myself a drink, enjoying the warmth from the fireplace. Everyone else has retired for the night, which allows room for my thoughts to soar.
I keep thinking about Ella’s words—Don’t wait until she’s gone to figure it out.
The words hit hard, sharp in the chest, but there’s peace in it too. For the first time in years, I want something more than survival. I want her—here, in this house, in my life, beside my daughter.
I can see it so clearly, it scares me.
All of a sudden, the lights go out, and the entire house goes dark. The power cuts out sometimes during heavy rain, but the generators should’ve kicked in by now. They always do. Only today, they don’t. I checked them earlier, and they were working fine.
A cold unease curls through me.
I set the glass down and grab my flashlight from the drawer near the fireplace, flicking it on. The beam slices through the dark. “Beck?” I call out. My voice sounds wrong in the quiet, too loud, too human.
Nothing.
“Beck? Ella? Dad?”
No answer, but rain and thunder.
Then, faintly, I hear the crunch of gravel outside. My pulse spikes, and I move toward the front door, boots silent against the floor. I flick off the flashlight and let my eyes adjust to the dark.The rain is still coming down hard, but between the thunder and wind, I swear I hear footsteps—too steady and deliberate.
I grab a handgun from the drawer beneath the console table. The weight in my palm steadies me.
“Beck? Dad?” I call again, quieter now.
A faint thud answers from somewhere upstairs, followed by another, and then a loud crash as glass shatters, furniture slamming against the floorboards.
Ella’s scream slices through the noise, high and raw. I don’t think, I just move.
My boots hit the stairs hard, two at a time. The flashlight beam cuts through flashes of lightning spilling in through the windows. Beck’s door flies open just as I reach the landing; he’s already armed, wide awake, Dad right behind him.
“Ella!” I bark.
There’s another crash, closer this time. The hallway feels endless as we sprint toward the sound. My heartbeat is a steady roar in my ears. I’ve felt this before, in the field, in ambush zones where one wrong step could get you killed.
Only this time, it’s home, and my sister is screaming. What follows is pure chaos.
“Move!” I bark, charging forward.
Dad flanks left, Beck covers right, and I go straight down the middle, toward the sound of Ella’s scream.
