“We were already out there trying to make our mark at twenty-four,” Daniel pointed out, “but she’s still hands-off to you.”
Humor laced Daniel’s warning, but Matt’s guts jumped like a guilty man facing the witness stand. “Of course. She’s Lyssa’s age.” To all the Mavericks, Lyssa was still the kid sister they needed to look out for.
“And Ariana’s had a pretty rough go of it too.”
As a foster kid, she’d been alone in the world. At least he’d had the Mavericks. And if Daniel suspected Matt was imagining anything unprofessional with Ari…
“I won’t screw this up with her,” Matt said, as much to remind himself as to reassure his friend. “I’ve been through so many nannies that I’m not sure where else I’d look if things didn’t work out this time.”
Matt had caught the last nanny screeching at Noah for spilling a glass of milk. It had been all he could do not to throw her bodily out of his house. He’d experienced enough of that crap when he was a kid and didn’t put up with anyone treating Noah that way. Ever. He’d handled that problem immediately. Which meant that he and Noah had been going through nannies at the rate of two or more a year.
Yes, Matt was picky where his son was concerned, but half the problem was Noah’s mother. Irene had a knack for creating havoc in her wake. She flew in and out of Noah’s life like a firefly, lighting him up, then letting him down. Matt still hadn’t figured out how to best deal with Irene—and the way she always let Noah down made Matt feel like he was letting his kid down too. Maybe a young, enthusiastic nanny would help counter Irene’s bad influence.
“Then take her,” Daniel said. “She wants this.”
Ah hell, why did his friend have to use those words, forcing Matt to battle images of Ari on his bed, her hair fanned out across his pillows, her skin creamy…
He jammed his brain the way a copier chews up a scrap of paper, crumpled the fantasy, and threw it in his mental trash bin.
No more fantasies. He needed Ari for Noah.
Every other need had to go.
“I’m offering her the job.”
“Then you can finally relax. Because she’ll be the best nanny you’ve ever had, guaranteed.”
Matt already knew that. It was his need to put this crazy attraction behind bars that had him on edge.
* * *
Ari’s heart missed a couple of beats when she read the caller ID on her phone. It was only nine p.m., but she had an early shift at the store in the morning, and she was already beneath the sheets. She slept on a Murphy bed that came out of the wall. It was the only way to get a sofa and a bed into her small studio apartment at the same time.
“Hello?” She couldn’t keep the breathlessness out of her voice.
“Ari, it’s Matt Tremont. You’ve got the job, if you want it.”
“Thank you.” She tried to sound cool and calm even though she was about to burst with joy. “I’ll do my best for you and Noah.” He was entrusting his son to her. “I’ll treat him like he’s my own.”
“The ladies you work for had wonderful things to say about you.”
She snuggled deeper under the covers, ignoring the spring poking her back, and in the dark his voice was smooth, deep, and soft, as if he were whispering naughty things. She’d had two lovers, so she wasn’t totally inexperienced, but no one had made her feel the things Matt did, even with a few simple words that weren’t the slightest bit sexy.“Their kids adore you,” he continued. “You’re never late, and you’re always willing to stay longer if they need you.” He paused, letting her take in the glowing praise. “Not one of them had a single complaint.”
The compliments warmed her. She’d taken care of some of the kids for years, from diapers to kindergarten. And she was going to miss all of them.
“Daniel says I’d be stupid not to jump on you.” Dead air followed his statement. As if the call had dropped, or he was holding his breath.
Yes, please, jump on me. But she wouldn’t mess this up. Especially when the words didn’t have a double meaning for him—it was just her one-sided sparks going off again.
“I’d be honored to take care of Noah. Would Sunday evening be okay to start so that I’d be there to get Noah ready for school in the morning?”
“Good idea. We can slip you right into the routine. Can you make it by dinnertime?”
“Depends on what you’re serving.”
She made the joke before thinking, but thankfully Matt laughed and said, “Tell me what your favorite is.”
Her favorite would be licking Rocky Road ice cream off him. A wave of heat rolled through her, and her legs moved restlessly as she tried not to breathe heavily.
“As long as it’s not SpaghettiOs or chicken nuggets, I’m good.” She said it with a laugh, but all joking aside, those had been her diet staples as a kid.
“There’s not a single SpaghettiO or chicken nugget in the house.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”
Once they’d hung up, she relived the conversation like the silly teenager she’d never been, weaving it into a crazy, sweet fantasy. Come Sunday, she’d be nothing but professional.
But tonight, she would let herself dream…
Chapter Three
Seated beside Ari at the dinner table on Sunday evening, Matt realized just how exquisite torture could get.
“This is definitely not SpaghettiOs,” she said with a laugh as she sliced into the moist salmon filet.
“What’s spaghetto?” Noah asked.
Matt dragged himself back onto the same spatial plane as his son, feeling yet another kick of guilt at his overtly sensual thoughts. The three of them were seated in the dinner nook, an annex off the kitchen with a swing door between. The formal dining room could seat thirty-six, but he used it only for holidays and business parties.
Ari was the first nanny who’d wanted to join them for dinner. The others preferred the hour off from their duties.
“SpaghettiOs are little round Os of pasta and sauce in a can,” she explained.
“Can I have some spaghettos?” Noah’s speech was exceptional for his age, with no childish lisp even on difficult letters, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his tongue around the word.