Marrying The Virgin Nanny / The Nanny And Me. Teresa Southwick

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      He reached out and loosely caught hold of a tiny foot. “Hey, buddy. How are you? Did you have a good day?”

      The baby waved his arms and smiled. Jason laughed and the sound warmed her clear through. She was exceptionally good at resisting warm and fuzzy, but there it was again. As if she needed more proof, that double whammy convinced her the combined effect of the Garrett men was pretty potent and highly dangerous stuff. She scooped the baby into her arms, then stood and walked around the sofa.

      “He’s fed, bathed and in his jammies. All ready to spend some time with his daddy.” She settled Brady in his arms and backed away.

      This felt weird. After a year at The Nanny Network, Maggie had lots of assignments under her belt. When the man of the house returned from his day at work, Maggie faded discreetly away to give mom and dad couple- and family-bonding time. She waited in the background, ready to jump in and help if needed. The only couple here was father and son. She’d never been in this situation before and didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

      Jason smiled down at his child. “He smells good.”

      “Yeah. I don’t think anything smells better than a freshly bathed baby.”

      He looked at her and something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes for a split second before disappearing. “And he seems pretty happy.”

      “He’s been an angel all day.”

      “I may be a new father, but I know this mood can disappear in a nanosecond. Before that happens, would you mind taking him while I get out of this suit?”

      “Of course.”

      She took the handoff and tried not to think about him changing. The situation already felt too intimate. She walked around the living room, then into the kitchen. Never in her life had she seen such a beautiful, functional kitchen. Maple cupboards were topped by black granite and in the center was an island big enough for its own zip code. The appliances were stainless steel, including the Sub-Zero refrigerator and two ovens. A glass French door closed off the walk-in pantry that was tidy and organized. In her assignments, Maggie had seen lots of different houses and condos, but never anything as gorgeous as this.

      It was past dinnertime and she’d already eaten, but the cook had left a plate for Jason. She felt the need to keep busy and settled Brady in the infant seat on the floor beside the glass-topped dinette. After spinning the toy strung in front of him, she watched him watch it until his interest kicked in. Then she took the plate of lasagna from the fridge, removed the plastic covering and stuck it in the microwave. There was also a salad that she tossed vigorously with Italian dressing.

      When Jason returned in his worn jeans and powder-blue pullover sweater, her insides got a vigorous tossing of their own. He looked as good in casual clothes as he did in slacks and tie. Maybe better, if possible.

      She realized she’d been staring and to fill the awkward silence said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m warming up your dinner. You’re probably hungry.”

      “I am.” He had a funny sort of intense expression on his face. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll have a quick bite to eat before hanging out with Brady. Could you stick around?”

      “Of course.”

      He glanced into the microwave. “Something smells good.”

      “Yeah.” And she wasn’t at all sure she meant the food. “Linda is a good cook. But you already know that.”

      “She’s been with me for several years.”

      Stability. Since she never stayed more than six weeks, that was a foreign concept to her. She leaned over the infant carrier and nudged it with a finger, partly to keep nervous hands busy. Partly to rock the baby and stretch out this unpredictable contentment as long as possible.

      “I can’t help wondering what Linda’s job interview was like,” she said.

      Jason glanced at her over one broad shoulder. “She had terrific references.”

      “Was there a test? Did she have to prepare pheasant under glass out of corn flakes and tofu?”

      He laughed. “Are you implying I’m a demanding boss?”

      “Heaven forbid.”

      “You’d be right. And I won’t apologize for it.” When the microwave beeped, he retrieved his plate and brought it to the table where his salad waited. “I don’t demand more of anyone else than I’m willing to give. That said, working with food is relatively easy. Babies, not so much. Because I’m willing to give everything I’ve got.”

      “You’re his father. That’s the way it should be.” She didn’t have the right to give everything and had to hold part of herself back. Otherwise, leaving hurt too much.

      Brady’s snorts and grunts changed tone indicating that the grumpy portion of the evening was about to commence. She was grateful for the distraction because the words made her like Jason even more. “I’ll take him into the other room so you can eat in peace.”

      “Stay.” He put a hand on her arm and stared at it for a second before meeting her gaze. Shrugging, he added, “Peace is highly overrated. I haven’t seen him all day.”

      “I beg to differ. What with the unannounced visitations.”

      “Let me rephrase. I haven’t had a chance to spend quality time with him. Keep me company. It won’t take long to wolf this down.”

      Her arm tingled from his touch and she felt strange, out of her element, which made her want to run and hide. But how could she refuse? Especially when he said it like that. Not to mention that he was the boss.

      “Okay.”

      But when she tried to sit, the baby wasn’t happy. She stood and her body automatically started a gentle swaying motion. She turned Brady so his back was against her chest and father and son could see each other. She caressed the baby’s palm with her thumb because he seemed to like that.

      “So, tell me,” Jason said, “what did I miss today? What did you do?”

      “Let me see,” she started. “I changed diapers. Fed this little guy. Played with him. Sang songs—for your information, his favorites are ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ and ‘Rubber Ducky.’”

      “He told you that?” Jason chewed as he studied her.

      “Not in so many words. But in body language, he was rockin’ out.”

      “Meaning he didn’t have a meltdown during the performance?”

      “Pretty much,” she confirmed.

      He laughed, then forked up a bite of salad. After chewing, he asked, “What else?”

      She thought about the day. “He took two naps, during which I’m quite sure he had a significant growth spurt. I can feel the difference in density already.”

      “In one day?”

      “Absolutely.”

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