Page 137 of The Nanny and the Heartthrob

“What are these for?” Aria asked, snapping her back from Lala Landon Land.

“What are you talking about?” she stammered.

Aria removed a hand-held video camera and a couple of old cell phones from the bottom of the heap.

She’d forgotten about those items.

She blinked, regaining her bearings. “I used to film myself when I was working on my music. Those probably have old recordings on them, but they’re pretty much junk now.”

“Can I play with them?” Aria asked, eyeing the old tech.

“Sure, if you can get them to work. The chargers should be—”

“I found them,” the child answered, pulling a plastic bag teeming with white and black adapters and cords from the pile.

Aria retreated to the bed with the outdated electronics as she and Landon scooped up the remnants of her life and dumped the contents into the boxes and tubs. They worked in a strained silence. The guy had something on his mind. Sure, their day had been bonkers, but something gnawed at the man. She could feel it. But she couldn’t allow the guy to brush off her breakthrough with his niece. Aria was a neurodivergent learner, and the sooner her primary caregiver understood that, the better.

And speaking of Aria. It had gotten awfully quiet. She glanced at the bed, and a warmth filled her chest.

She tapped Landon’s shoulder. “Look at Aria,” she whispered, gesturing with her chin toward the sleeping child sprawled across the comforter.

“She’s always been a good sleeper. Leighton and Trey used to say…” he began, then stopped speaking and returned his attention to the boxes.

She felt for him. It couldn’t be easy losing his sister and his best friend so suddenly. And she knew a thing or two about loss.

With the mess tidied up, they made their way to the bed. Aria’s damp, dark hair spread across the pillow. The kid clutched the tiny piano eraser in one hand and an old adapter cord in the other.

Score another point for cute school supplies.

Landon removed the items from her grip and set them on the bedside table as she cleared away the camera and the dead cell phones.

“I’ll pick her up if you could get the—”

“—blankets,” she supplied, springing into action.

Gingerly, he lifted his niece in his arms. “Hey, little sack of potatoes, let’s get you tucked in,” he whispered as Aria rested her head in the crook of his neck.

Little sack of potatoes.

She couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the scene.

He wasn’t half-bad at this uncle business. He loved the kid. There was no denying it.

He caught her watching and smiled, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.

And again, she sensed fear. What was Landon afraid of? Was he worried about raising a child? No, it was more, and she had a feeling it had to do with how Aria’s mind worked.

“Harper, the blankets.”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” she whispered. She pulled down the covers, and Landon slipped the sleeping child between them.

“Sing the Aria ABC song, Uncle Landy,” the little girl murmured as she rubbed the back of her wrist across her forehead.

“It’s late, little one.”

“Just doA,B, andC,” she mumbled, then rolled onto her side.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “A is for Aria,” he sang softly.

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