The Nanny Clause Pt. 01

Chapter 1

The crack of a ball hitting a bat is a welcome sound at Wrigley Field. I've been to more Cubs games than I can count and I always enjoy it. This game was supposed to be an opportunity to rub elbows with some potential clients but the meeting fell through. The crowd's cheers echo through Wrigley Field, drowning out my thoughts as I steal glances at Grace. I find my attention divided between the announcers' sports banter and Grace, her beauty captivating me.

I nudge Nick and force myself to focus on anything other than his sister. Nick Reynolds--my right-hand man at work and also my best friend--invited his sister who now entertains my six-year-old. "Can't believe Bellinger is on track to get a hundred RBIs this year already." I'm not a huge baseball fan but Nick is, so I try to keep up on stats so I don't look like a fool at these things.

"Yeah, I can't believe it either. His career took a dip after that 2019 season but he's back on track." Nick goes on with so many stats my head swims but I find myself staring again. Grace is so good with Ava, kind and patient. I can see why she chose teaching as a career. Her finesse with children rivals my ability to schmooze new clients. She has a gift and I'm addicted to watching her.

When Nick asked if he could invite her to the game I learned that despite her rank straight out of college, she's struggled to land a full-time job and she's just subbing at local schools while she waits for a good opening. Whoever hires her will be making the best decision of their career.

"Daddy, more Dippin' Dots!" Ava has had three dishes of the creamy confection so I try to steer her toward something with a bit less sugar.

"How about a pretzel, or a hot dog?" Leaning past Nick to see my daughter on the other side of Grace, I can't help but catch Grace's eye. She smiles at me and blushes. It isn't the first time we've met but it's the first time we've been out socially. Our company picnic isn't exactly an intimate event, and I'm usually so busy with investors and clients I hardly have time to socialize with employees and their families.

"That's a good idea, Ava." Grace slaps her knees and stands. "I'm going for a hot dog. Want to come with me?"

Ava jumps to her feet with a cheer and takes Grace's hand, and I lean back and admire how Grace can command such excitement and obedience from the little girl I know to be a handful from time to time. "Here let me get you some cash." I reach for my wallet but Grace waves me off.

"No thanks. I've got this." She winks at me in a playful manner which I'm certain is only because I'm being a dad and she's planning to buy Ava whatever manner of junk food she requests. I chuckle and lean back in my chair and watch them climb the stairs out of the stadium to the concourse where food is sold.

"Grace is really great with kids." The off-handed comment falls from my lips and Nick nods in agreement.

"She really is. It's such a shame that she can't seem to nail down a job. She is such a great teacher." He picks up his giant soda cup and slurps through the straw just as one of the Cubs' basemen hits one out of the park. Then entire crowd lurches to their feet in cheers and I join Nick standing. "Incredible!" he shouts, and I clap my hands though I'm uninterested.

My mind is on her still, wondering if maybe I can find a way to put her talents and gifts to good use. She is so good with Ava, and though I don't have any need for a nanny or babysitter in my day to day, there is a very real possibility I will need someone in a week or so if this event I have coming up pans out.

"You know, I've been nominated to create plans for a library expansion out east. I'll find out this week if I've been awarded the honor." It's a huge thing too, a multi-million-dollar donor has arranged for a new children's education wing at the town's library and they want only the best architect to handle its design. Thus, my name in the hat.

"Wow, that's awesome." Nick seems genuinely impressed. "So you'll need me to help? I can clear some time, maybe push some of my projects off on Hank."

The crowd begins to die down as the runner rounds home plate and joins his teammates in the dugout. We sit down and Nick returns to slurping his soda. He's one of the best architects I've ever hired, which is why he quickly became my right-hand man and best friend despite being five years younger. One day he'll be my partner if he keeps at it.

"Actually, I can handle the design portion myself. What I will need is some help with Ava." I've been wrestling with the idea of how to handle things. It makes the most sense to travel to Cape May over her spring break. It's two weeks of no school, so I'd only have to keep her out of her classes for a week at most. The problem is I will never just hire a random stranger to watch her. There are way too many weirdos out there. My parents live on the west coast where I was born and raised, and my ex-wife is a ghost in the wind ever since she left me for another man.

"Hey, you should ask Grace. She's so good with kids and I bet she'd love a vacation out east." Nick waves down the peanut guy and hollers at him for a sack of peanuts, and I try to hide a smile. I was hoping he'd say that, because the past ninety minutes watching Ava with Grace has told me they're such a great match.

"She'd give up subbing for a few weeks? Maybe three?"

"Hell yeah. Just pay her something decent. She's been a bit down about not scoring a job quickly."

Nick stands and leans over me to exchange cash for peanuts, and I spy Grace holding Ava's hand as they walk back toward the seats. Ava's face has a smidge of ice cream near the corner of her mouth, and she holds a hot dog in her left hand. Grace has a hot dog as well, and a guilty smirk on her face as she and Ava take their seats. Again I find myself smitten with how beautiful Grace is, and I can't help but think how a trip with her might be an opportunity to get to know her. I've always thought she was attractive, but never knew how good she was with children.

Since Nanette left me three years ago, I haven't even thought twice about another woman. My life has been consumed with working as much as I can while Ava is in school and raising my daughter. Grace is the first woman to pique my interest and give me hope that not all women are like my ex.

When Nick takes his seat I lean forward again, this time aiming my attention at Grace. "You know, Grace, I heard you've had a hard time locking in a full-time teaching gig." I try not to put too much of an emphasis on her and more on the system. "I hear it's a tough market out there."

"Yeah," she sighs and I watch her shoulders drop. "I interviewed a few places but they went with other people. So I'm on a sub list for five different districts. It's not very regular, but so far it's paying the rent." She smiles, but I can tell it's forced. Nick is right; she's feeling down about this and hopefully my offer will be a bright spot for her.

"Well, what would you say to a work vacation?" I lean hard on my elbow and look past Nick munching on his peanuts. I want to ask him to trade seats but I don't want to make her nervous. Nick doesn't seem to care that we're talking around him though. He's too fascinated by the seventh inning stretch show going on down on the field.

"A work vacation? Sort of need to have work to have a vacation." Her smile is so radiant I can't help but wonder why I've never been this drawn to her. Since Nanette I've easily seen Grace twice a year, but this time feels different. More personal.

"I mean, I'm going on a work trip and Ava is coming along. She'll be on spring break for two weeks and the trip may last three. I need someone I trust to keep an eye on her while I work. You two could keep up on her studies and enjoy the beach." If the nomination falls through it will be easy to cancel. Besides I see the light in her eyes and know she's interested.

"I'd miss out on subbing probably." She bites her bottom lip and glances at Ava who's tapping her knee.

"Napkin," Ava demands and I give her a stern look.

"Manners, Ava." My gentle chiding draws a roll of the eyes from my daughter and I know she is six going on thirteen.

"Here, baby," Grace says, offering her a napkin from her stash in the cup holder between her and her brother. She tries to let Ava do it herself but inevitably takes over and wipes her hands and face.

"Okay, so what if I can pay you double what you'd make subbing for those weeks?"

My offer has her head swiveling back to meet my gaze with awe in her eyes. "But I don't know if I'll be called in to sub. I may not even have work those days." Her jaw hangs slack and she lifts a shoulder in protest.

"Okay, triple." I'm not taking no for an answer, not when I've tasted the excitement of the chase. It's been three years since I've had a woman. Three years since I've dated. Three years of solitude and caring for my daughter and career and I'm suddenly craving something badly. Grace Reynolds.

"Uh..." She snickers and her head dips. Then she meets my gaze again. "Sure."

"It's settled." I smack my knee and grin like a fool. Now, I just have to secure that nomination. This is going to be exciting.

Chapter 2

It's April in the northeast and I have no clue what to pack. I can see it being warm enough at times to visit the beach but the water will probably be too cold to enjoy it at all. Still, I take my string bikini and drop it in the suitcase anyway. Nick--protective older brother--is here helping me pack for the trip which Mr. Davis confirmed was happening last night. Mira is here too--my best friend since middle school. She insists I will need three pairs of sandals. Between the two of them, I've got nothing done.

"Look, I don't think you're going to need that many pairs of shoes. You're going to nanny someone's kid." Nick removes the sandals yet again and Mira scowls at him. She's put them back in my bag no less than three times.

"So, what's Fletcher like?" I try to change the subject because I know Nick and Mira get into it at times. They always have since we were kids, mostly because he picked on her a lot when she'd come hang out with me. He's six years older and she had a crush on him.

I pick up a stack of t-shirts and shorts Mira set out for me and walk toward my suitcase. She's color coordinated everything and I'll probably look like the most matchy, girly girl in Cape May. My normal boring slacks and blouses won't fly for a beach town, or so she says. She smirks at me as I put the clothes in the bag and watch her pulling jeans out of my dresser.

"Eh, you kinda saw how he was acting at the game. He's a good guy, but stern." Nick plops into the velvet chaise next in the reading nook in the corner of my room and stretches his legs out.

And therein lies the rub. Fletcher seemed stern alright, and cold at times toward Ava. She's so little and curious, and he was just "Manners please," and "Be quite I'm talking." He hardly spoke to Ava, except to correct her a number of times, leaving all the interaction to me. Not that I mind. Kids are my life. I want to have a large family, and I chose teaching because I believe children are the future and the best way to change the future is to influence a generation. I loved spending time with Ava.

I also think Fletcher Davis is about the most attractive man I've ever met. And he's single--and he's filthy stinkin' rich. I would never chase a man for his money, but it doesn't hurt his cause at all. He's successful and charming. I just don't want to marry a hands-off type of guy when it comes to parenting. Which is why if that's his true nature, I can't even date him, or think of dating him. So before I get into this one-on-one with him for three weeks in a distant town, I want my facts in order.

"I mean, what's he really like? You work with him?" I eye Nick and turn toward my closet where my host of comfy cardigans are. With all the short-sleeve shirts Mira is shoving in my bag I may need a few. I get chilled easily. Mira says it's cause I need meat on my bones, but I don't mind my slender hourglass figure.

"You don't really need to care about his personality. You're going to babysit his kid, not date him..." His words slow and then trail off and then he huffs. "No, Grace."

I yank a sweater out of the closet and hold it to my chest. It's my favorite, a light blue number with buttons all down the front. It reminds me of my Nana Rose because she gave it to me.

"Ew," Mira says, snatching it. "He's right. This is a hard no." She rolls her eyes at me and tosses it on the end of the chaise next to Nick's stockinged feet just as he swings his legs around and stands.

"I'm not talking about the sweater. Grace, Fletch is my friend and my boss. You can't date him." He glowers at me and crosses his arms over his chest indignantly. His rude insistence that I cannot do something I haven't even made up my mind whether I want to do or not is reason enough for me to want to do it even more. We've been this way since we were little and he knows it.

Once, he told me no I couldn't play piano--because he played piano--and that turned into me taking lessons and mastering the instrument. All because he said I couldn't. Turns out I'm better than him at everything he said I couldn't do.

"Give me one good reason?" I walk over to the chaise and pick up the sweater and carry it to my suitcase and fold it neatly before putting it in, drawing a scowl from Mira. She'll take it back out but I'll find a way to bring it along anyway.

"For starters he's eleven years older than you. You need someone your age. Also, he has a kid. You want your own family, not someone else's. And he's my boss. What if you dump him and he fires me?" Nick fidgets, wriggling his toes in the plush throw rug he stands on. It's a ridiculous assumption that we'd even date, let alone that the breakup would be so bad it would affect his career. But I sympathize. Stranger things have happened.

"What if I just want to know what sort of father he is so I know how to handle his daughter?" I pose the question innocently enough but Nick knows me too well to believe that. Besides, Fletcher made me blush a jillion times at the game last week. Nick has to have seen that.

I watch Mira bring a few light jackets out of my closet which have been there since the day she donated to the Grace Reynolds cause. When I first got this place and I walked to the school three blocks away and it was fall and I was freezing, she kept me clothed out of her own closet. But her style has never been mine. "No, Mira." I am whining and I don't care.

"You look cute in them. Leave the frumpy old-teacher sweaters here. I'm begging you." She continues to put the jackets in the suitcase and I relent. I'll swap them out when she leaves later. I have to feel comfortable in my own skin, don't I?

"He's not your type, okay?" Nick is hung up on this. Maybe it's because Fletcher seemed eager to have me with him. I wasn't even sure if Nick caught on that his boss seemed more excited about me going on the trip than the game. He talked about it nonstop after I agreed. Nick was right between us too, but he was absorbed in the action on the field.

"Why is he not my type? What makes him not my type?" Grace removes my comfy cardigan and places a stack of jeans and long-sleeve shirts into the bag and winks at me. I turn to Nick realizing my packing will turn to fully repacking later.

"He just isn't."

"You're really steamed up about this, Nicko." Grace smacks him on the back of the head, a move she has been doing for years now. "Lay off it. If he's available and hot, and Gracey wants to tap it, then let her tap it."

Grace, my ever-indulgent friend who loves a bit of juicy gossip, has pushed things too far. Nick glares at her and then turns to me. "There will be no tapping. Not at all." Blood rushes to his face at the thought, his forehead wrinkled in deep furrow.

"You're right. No one is tapping anything. I'm not about to go jump on the stick and have a ride; I just wanted to know what sort of guy he is." I sigh. "If I was that type of girl I wouldn't still be a virgin, and you both know that." Now humiliated, I turn toward my suitcase and yank the ugly jackets out of it. "And I'm not taking these."

Mira shakes her head at me and sits on the bed next to the suitcase as she watches me unpack the wardrobe she picked out for me. I'm not angry at them, but I do wish they'd just support me.

"I'm sorry, G. I just got upset. I care about you and I don't want you getting hurt. That's all." Nick walks over to me and pulls me in for a hug and I hug him back. "You're my baby sis, alright?"

"I get it." I don't get it sometimes though. Why is he so overprotective? And when will I meet a man who he approves of?

"You guys finish packing. I'm going to nap before I drive you to the airport." Nick sounds defeated. Probably because he knows I'm my own woman and I'll do what I want. When he's gone, Mira stands and walks over to me as I refold the jeans, tossed as I took the jackets out. She grabs my hand.

"I know you're not like that. I just like pushing his buttons since he picked on me so much when we were little." She offers a compassionate smile. "What I meant was, you're a big girl. You can make your own decisions. Tell me about this man..." In true best friend fashion, she drags me to the chaise and we sit cross-legged facing each other.

I begin to feel my cheeks warm as I think of Fletcher and everything I know about him. "Well, he's obviously really frickin' hot. And he's successful, and he's paying me three times what I'd make for the time I'm missing as a substitute." I pick at my fingernails and shrug. "He seems a little rigid with his daughter, but maybe he was stressed out about something? He seemed very interested in talking to me. We have things in common, like classic literature and nature. He was really easy to talk to. And--"

"And he likes you?"

I chuckle at Mira's interruption. "Yeah, I got the vibe that maybe he does. I've always thought he was cute, but I knew he was married. I just never thought of dating a divorcee before, especially one so much older than me."

"Yeah... that's a big one." Mira pats my knee and I look up at her. "But age is just a number once you're an adult, right?"

"As long as you are compatible, I guess. But eleven years is a big difference." Here I am talking myself out of liking him before I even know him. What is wrong with me?

Mira grins again. "Well, if you want to attract him you can't wear that ugly blue sweater. It makes you look ten years older." She sticks her tongue out and scrunches her nose.

I laugh out loud. "You mean his age? Maybe he likes women like that."

"Blech!" Mira pretends to gag herself with a single finger and we cackle like high schoolers. This is why I love her. She can take a tense moment and turn it into something to laugh about.

Now, if only I can keep this vibe going when I land in Cape May and show up at the address he gave me. I'm nervous for many reasons, the first and biggest one being, I kind of like him, despite my reservations about his abilities as a father.

Chapter 3

I've been sitting here at this dining nook, watching over the drive and the front lawn of the bed and breakfast for almost an hour and a half. Grace's plane landed just after eight thirty, and I know it always takes a bit of time to collect baggage and find a cab, but it's nearing ten p. m. and I have to be up early. Still, I assured Helen and Burt--the B&B owners--that I'd wait up for her and help her settle in. So I sip my cup of tea and watch out over the dark lawn as night's grip takes firm hold on the cape.

With three weeks to tackle this massive project, I know I'll be busy a lot. There is a good chance Ava and I will only have a few hours a day together, or even minutes if things run late at the library. It will be tough considering how much time I typically spend with her. I fully expect some pushback from her; maybe she'll rebel or be emotional. But it will be worth it when it's finished. And maybe along the way Grace and I might find a spark.

My tea is cold and my body is exhausted by the time I see headlights flash over the lawn. A glance at my watch says it's way past my bedtime but I feel suddenly energized at the idea of seeing Grace again. I rise and push the chair in, then take the mug to the sink and rinse it. Helen prepared a room for Grace, one for Ava, one for me, and another Grace to help Ava with her studies. The other eight bedrooms in this place are empty, except for the one Helen and Burt share. I wanted it that way. It makes it feel homier to not have strangers in my space when I'm away from home.

When the mug is rinsed, I head for the front door. Grace is there already too, lugging her heavy suitcase across the threshold. She looks tired, like she'd rather be sleeping. Her chestnut hair falls in messy waves as if she's just taken it out of a hair tie, and her soft hazel eyes open and shut slowly, fatigue heavy on them. The bags under her eyes are dramatic this evening, no makeup to conceal them, but she looks ravishing despite it.

"Hey... Everyone's asleep." I hold the door for her as she drags the suitcase in. The wheels rumble over the wood flooring and catch on the throw rug. She scowls and shrugs.

"Sorry." The grimace on her face is adorable. "The Uber took forever to get to the airport."

"You don't have to apologize." I shut the door as she moves deeper into the entryway. The two-hundred-year-old building is massive, covering more than five thousand square feet of space, twelve bedrooms total, three great rooms, two dining rooms, fourteen bathrooms, and a newly remodeled industrial kitchen. It's impressive and it cost a pretty penny, but every sent was well worth it to see the look in her face as she stares up at the grand chandelier.

"Wow..."

"Yeah, it's nice. Let's get you up to your room, okay? Ava went to bed early. She'll rise early too probably." I gesture at the staircase and she nods. The large red suitcase looks heavy, so I offer to carry it. "Need some help?"

"No thanks. I can tough it out." Grace smiles and I shrug it off as she struggles up one step at a time. She must have packed her entire wardrobe, though this place has a laundry room too. I've brough only three suits and a few casual outfits, and only a minimal wardrobe for Ava too.

The wheels clack on the wood floorboards as they roll down the hallway. We pass the learning room and Ava's room, then mine, and finally come to the one prepared for her. Helen went all out with pink floral curtains and bedding. It's definitely a woman's room, complete with scented candles and a gorgeous Victorian vanity for doing makeup. I open the door and allow Grace to pass by me into the roomy space.

"Oh wow..." She reveals her awe again and I get the feeling she isn't used to being spoiled. Nick is by no means poor, but Grace and he grew up in a modest middle-class family. I know what that's like. I fought for every bit of ground I have now in growing my architectural firm. But success shone on me and I am more than comfortable in my new upper-class status.

"I hope it's to your liking..." I mirror Helen's sentiment as she gave me the tour here since she is currently sleeping and unable to welcome our guest.

"It's incredible. This must have cost a fortune."

"A small one, yes." Grace's humility and transparency is attractive. She's not a tagalong who jumped on the bandwagon because they heard I was wealthy. She's here to do a job and get paid. She's also here so I can enjoy her presence a while. I find the more I am around her the more I learn about her and the more I like her.

She whistles through her teeth softly and turns with hand son her hips to smile at me. "Thank you for inviting me to this opportunity. I can't wait until tomorrow to hang out with Ava and relax. Any pointers?" I see her warming to me and I like it. The teachers at Peabody where Grace attends seem to only care about my status and how impressive I seem to them. They rarely ask me for help with my daughter. It's refreshing to know she truly loves what she does and wants to do it well.

"Nothing to note. Ava is strong willed, and she'll tell you how it goes if you're gullible enough to believe her." I chuckle which draws a warm smile from Grace's lips. I can see the recognition in her eyes, as if she's handled more than one stubborn child before.

"Well, in that case, I'm bushed. Maybe I should turn in for the night." Her hair falls around her as she leans to pick up the suitcase and I reach for the handle to help her without asking this time. Inadvertently wrapping my hand around hers on the handle, I feel a sizzle of chemistry as we touch. "Uh..." Grace looks up into my eyes and straightens as my hand stays firmly lodged around hers.

"Sorry, I was..."

"Yeah... It's okay." She licks her lip and smiles but I notice the rise and fall of her chest are more rapid, her breathing thready.

"You know, Grace..." I find myself lost in her eyes, searching her facial features for any sign that she may be uncomfortable with this touch, because God knows I find it exhilarating. "I... Well, I sort of asked you to join me for more than one reason." My hand stays gripped around hers, and she doesn't try to remove it.

"You did?" she asks, curiosity in her tone. Her cheeks are rosy now, warmed by blood that rushes to them as she bites her lower lip.

"I did..." We are so close I can smell her perfume, like vanilla and honey. So close I can see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes that reflect a glint of light. "I find myself irresistibly drawn to you for some reason. At the game you were so... magnetic."

"I was?" Again, her tongue draws over her bottom lip and I watch her eyes dart between my gaze and my mouth. If I'm reading her correctly, she wants me to kiss her, but I will not make the first move. That ball must always be firmly in her court because I don't want her to think for a second that I'm pressuring her.

"You were... And tonight I find you ravishingly beautiful."

"But I'm tired and I'm not wearing makeup and my hair is--"

"Perfect." My interruption invites another rush of blood to her cheeks and this time to her lips. They darken with desire as her pupils dilate. "It's nice to see a woman who isn't hung up on her appearance." I brush a strand of hair out of her eyes with my free hand and the corners of her lips rise. "You're beautiful, Grace, and I have a feeling that beauty is more than skin deep, and I want to see every part of it."

"I... uh..." Tongue across lip, eyelashes batting, cheeks growing darker--Grace Reynolds is at the very least flattered by me, and perhaps at the very most just as attracted to me as I am to her. I grin at her while I wait for her to continue. "I think you're really fucking hot."

Her comment makes me chuckle and I use my toe to push the door closed. "You do?" I like where this is going and so does my cock. I feel myself swelling as she nods.

"I really do, and this is really insane, but I've thought this for like, forever. Like, for as long as I've known you, or Nick worked with you. The family picnics and holiday parties..."

"But...?" I push another strand of hair out of her eyes with my pinky and listen to the way her thready breathing is now almost imperceptible.

"But I thought you were married and I--"

"Ancient history." I hoped this event might occur at some point during this three-week jaunt, but I never expected it to happen so quickly--on the first night even. I can't look away from her eyes now; I'm transfixed, waiting for her to make the move. I don't know if I can walk away if she doesn't, and I don't have to find out because she whispers to me and it sends a chill up my spine.

"Uh... Can I kiss you?"

"I hoped you'd ask that."

Grace rises up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine in a hot and hungry dance that has my heart pounding in my ears and my cock twitching in my slacks. Fuck, I hope she doesn't stop because now that the train has left the station, there is no calling it back.

Chapter 4

What the holy hell am I doing kissing Fletcher Davis? Holy cow. My fingers slide through his blond waves and I am undone. His lips hungrily devour mine in a tango of unrivaled proportions. He's so good too, like meant to be my other half. There is no awkward tooth bumping or confusion of who is supposed to put their tongue where. So many first kisses go horribly wrong, but he makes this so easy. And the heat between us, God I'm on fire.

His hand rests comfortably on my hip, his other still gripping the suitcase handle with my hand pinned beneath it. I want to tear his fucking clothes off and throw myself at him, but I swore to Mira and Nick I wouldn't. I'm not that person, but Fletcher makes me wish I was. Like, seriously wish I was. My groin is screaming at me to make a more desperate move, and I'm barely containing myself. So when he bites my lower lip and growls and that damn shiver of arousal works its way into my pants, I know I have to stop.

"Shit... Uh, I'm sorry." I pull away, looking down, and his forehead presses against mine firmly.

"Absolutely do not be sorry for a second."

"It's just that.... I'm not that girl, okay? This girl, I mean." I bite my lip awkwardly and sigh.

"What girl?" He uses a single finger to nudge my chin upward so I'm forced to stare into those damn sexy blue eyes of his.

I feel foolish now, like I lost my sense of self when I asked if I could kiss him but he's so incredibly sexy and smart. And I just feel like when I'm in his presence I have more worth somehow, as if his very gaze on me gives me a boost of self-confidence and a higher level of comfort. He commands my body to feel things and there is no denying it.

"Uh..." The horribly uncertain, socially awkward, totally virgin girl who throws herself at rich men. I could never say it but that's what I'm thinking. "I ..."

"The most amazingly beautiful, incredibly attractive, positively the most charming woman I've ever met? That girl?"

His words are so intense I feel like I'm losing the battle with my lust. Part of me--just the tiniest niggling part--wonders if he's just a player and he's saying these things to make me swoon. Another part of me--the part that has always needed this love and affirmation since I was a child--wants more of it and throws caution to the wind.

I slowly rise up on my tiptoes again, this time prying my hand from beneath his, and I drape both of my arms around his broad shoulders. His muscles are taut as he grips my waist and pulls me against his body. His dick is rock hard, oh god.

Fletcher growls again, this time as he backs me toward the bed. My mind is in sheer panic as my hormones take over. This is going to hurt like fuck, or maybe it's going to be incredible. I've never heard any good "lost my virginity" stories, but the ones I've heard were from friends in high school. I am just the only twenty-seven-year-old virgin on the planet.

"Mmmm." I moan against his mouth as his hand grips my ass. He grinds his hips against me, letting me feel just how thick his cock is. He's a grown man and I suddenly feel completely inadequate. I know nothing. I've watched some porn but never done this, and he has a freakin' child. I know he's done it. He was married. What have I done?

"I... uh..." I mumble as his mouth travels down my neck, teeth nipping at me.

"Yeah?" he grunts, finding the skin on my hips.

His touch is electric, sending shivers across my skin. The ache in my pussy is so intense I can't stand it. I want to confess that I'm a virgin, that I have no clue what I'm doing, but I don't want him to be repulsed or turned off by it. His lips travel back up my neck to my mouth and he kisses me again then pulls away and asks, "What is it? Is this not okay?"

"Condom..." I blurt out, trying to cover my nerves with whatever I can to make myself look less stupid or uncomfortable. My eyes dart around his face, and he covers my mouth with his again, grinding against me with his pelvis.

We topple backward onto the bed and he leaves me breathless as he works the fly of my pants with one hand and the fastener to my bra--behind my back and without even seeing the thing--with his other. I realize how far up shit creek I am without a paddle or a friggin' boat, and the only thing I can do now is hold on for the ride of my life because something tells me Fletcher is about to rock my world in a good way.

"Oh wow..." His lips find the inside of my hip as he pulls my jeans off, tugging the panties along with it. I know what sex is--don't get me wrong--I just thought this would be a quickie and that would be that, but he has no intention of banging one out quickly. His lips find my inner thigh as he kneels at the side of the bed, and I'm shuddering already. "Oh god..."

"You want me to stop?" He rains kisses on my thighs and hot breaths across my mound, and I am clenching already.

"God no..." I have no clue where to put my hands or where to look with my eyes. Tiny zaps of electricity vibrate across my body from head to toe as he blows on me. I'm really wet and he makes it obvious what he wants as he forces my legs apart. I mean, he doesn't have to force them; I'll let him do whatever he damn well pleases. I suck in a breath at the first flick of his tongue across my soft lips.

It makes me twitch and suddenly I'm on fire, so hot I can't stand it. I tear my shirt and bra off and toss them, feeling instant relief, until his tongue pushes into my slit and licks up toward my clit. "Oh god..." Clawing at the comforter, I rock my hips upward and spread my legs farther.

I've had guys touch me. I've let them finger me. One even made me come one night at the drive in, in the back of his pickup truck while we were watching a dinosaur thriller, but oh my god, I've never had a guy eat me and holy fucking hell, I am going to come like right now. Fletcher's tongue swirls and dips and his fingers spread my skin, pulling my pussy open as he laps at me. I'm a whimpering puddle of orgasmic tension. My hands have a mind of their own, reaching for his blond waves. I pull him in.

He growls, sending shockwaves of vibration into my depths and I shudder to feel his fingers sink. They're thick and firm and he finds my pleasure zone instantly. "Oh shit... Oh my god," I hiss, grinding on his face until his stroking and rubbing pushes me right up to the edge and over.

"Oh god, now..." I moan and pant, trying to keep my volume down. Tiny guttural gasps for air choke me. I need to scream to claw at his head and I need him in me so deep. The way his fingers thrust and his tongue teases my clit is extraordinary. He has me so lost in the throes of orgasm I forget where I am and let a long deep moan out. His hand squeezes my thigh, bringing me back to reality, and I hold my breath to let it all pass in silence.

When he's finished he licks and sucks, drinking in all my moisture, and then he rises up with a hungry look in his eyes. He opens the fly of his slacks and pulls his dick out. He's hard and massive and I can only imagine how it will feel when he slides into me. It's larger than any toy I've ever played with. Oh god...

"Feel good?" he asks in confidence as he reaches into his back pocket. He produces a wallet and I nod as I watch him open it and pull out a condom. The wrapper is worn, some of the words faded from it, and the foil is compressed so I can clearly see the outline of the sleeve within it. "Hmmm, well I'm going to enjoy this."

I try to smile, but I end up squirming a little at the thought of what he'll make me feel. He tears the foil pack open and rolls the condom on, struggling with just how large he is and how the condom wants to roll off his cock, probably a size too small. I swallow hard as he strokes himself and let's his pants drop. He doesn't even take off his shirt and I don't mind.

"Uh..." I need to tell him. I can't just not tell him, can I? The uncertainty is making me yoyo between a compulsion to have him inside of me and a fear that makes me want to run away.

"What is it?" Fletcher crawls across me, nudging my knees apart gently. I scoot back on the bed so he has more room, though I'm certain the look on my face isn't one of arousal or seduction.

"I... uh..." I reach for his sides, pushing his shirt up so I can feel the heat of his skin on my palms.

"Something wrong?" he asks, dipping his hips. His cock slides through my moisture, now thicker and wetter after my orgasm. I feel him teasing my entrance as he holds his shirt against his body so he can watch his dick tempting me. My fingernails sink into his hips as he begins to slide in, just the head, just stretching me lightly.

"Fletcher, I'm a virgin." I blurt it out just as awkwardly as I blurted out my desire for a condom. He stops and his eyes meet mine.

His mouth falls open and he stares at me for a second, remaining perfectly still. I watch his tongue drag over his bottom lip and he blinks a few times. I don't want this to be a deal breaker. I want him to keep going; I just thought he needed to know. His expression softens and he rises up.

"No, don't stop..." I whimper, but he smiles at me. His hands work a few of the top buttons on his shirt and then he pulls it over his head. He is a fucking god. Wow. His body is a work of art. I can tell he has spent a lot of time at the gym making it so. Corded abs, toned chest and biceps. I've never seen anything like it. "Please... Don't stop."

"I have no intention of stopping. I just thought you'd appreciate something a little better, you know. Since it's your first time." As he lowers himself over me I spread my legs to him. I want to say something but I have no words now. He holds my gaze as he uses a hand to align his cock with my entrance again. "You tell me if it hurts, and I'll stop."

I nod, biting my lip. I fully expect it to hurt. I even brace myself for it to hurt, but he pushes in a millimeter at a time, sinking so agonizingly slowly I want to beg him to just penetrate me. His eyes never leave mine. It's so intimate I feel heat in my cheeks. My pussy aches, stretching and craving his cock, and I wince when I feel it. A tiny pinch that tells me I'm no longer a virgin.

"Mmmmm," Fletcher growls in pleasure. "Fuck, you're so tight."

"Oh... god yes," I moan, clawing at his sides as he pulls back for the first real thrust. It's incredible. He fills me and touches every sensitive spot I have. I'm in pain and so much pleasure I can't ask him to stop. "Oh god... Oh wow, you're huge. Oh my god..."

"Grace..." The way he grunts my name as his chest presses down on mine pushes buttons. He begins thrusting faster and I pant louder. I know I'm too loud. Other people in this bed and breakfast will hear me, including his daughter. He remedies that by kissing me again and an explosion of sense are triggered within my body.

The first orgasm was intense, but this one is uncontrollable. I writhe beneath him and he's forced to thrust harder to pin me to the bed. He cradles the back of my head then grabs a handful of hair and pulls me down hard as he thrusts in, still covering my mouth with his. It's all I can do to stay coherent. Pleasure overrides any sense of decency or self-control and I dig my nails into his skin.

When the waves pass and his thrusts slow, he rises up and I see something on his face I didn't expect. It's shock. "What is it?" I ask, confused.

"Uh... shit!" he hisses quietly.

"What?" A jolt of adrenaline zings my chest as he pulls out. I follow the line of sight to where he's looking at his cock. The condom is dangling from it, only the ring that holds it in place at the base of his dick intact.

"Oh god!" I jump up, frantic. "Oh god..."

"Grace, I'm so sorry. I--"

"Oh god..." Ignoring anything else, I rush into the adjoining bathroom and turn on the water. I don't even wait until it's warm to jump in. Maybe I'm freaking out for no reason and I should have stayed. Maybe that's why people plan losing their virginity. What the heck was I thinking?

I wash as best as I can and find a towel on the rack next to the sink. I feel stupid and ashamed and embarrassed, though I shouldn't. Fletcher was amazing. I know he didn't intend for the condom to break, and I will let him know I'm not upset. He shouldn't blame himself for an accident.

When I return to the bedroom, however, he is gone. His clothes no longer lie on the floor. The door is shut. There is no trace of him having ever been in my room and if I wasn't certain we just had sex--based on the incredible sex-high I'm riding and the way my pussy hurts to touch it--I'd have thought that was all a dream.

I walk to the bed and see the condom wrapper and torn sleeve tossed in the small metal trash bin that sits next to the nightstand. I can't help but find a stupid grin stretching across my face. He really had sex with me. I really just had sex. Wow... And he was so amazing, so gentle and diligent to take care of me. God, I want it again already.

I climb into bed with dripping hair and the towel wrapped tightly around my body. I don't even want to get dressed. I want to fall asleep with the sensations of his hands all over my skin.

Wow, do I have a story to tell Mira.

Chapter 5

It's early, before sunrise. I have to meet the library director before the doors open at seven to get the tour and find out where within the library I'll be working. There is a lot to go over this morning: city records, zoning boundaries, wish lists from the donors and the public. I'm flying blind until I've reviewed all the plans. I have two days to thoroughly immerse myself into the details and absorb them before meetings with council members and library board members commence. I need a jump on my day.

So I shower and dress, making sure my room is tidy before I head downstairs for coffee. At this early hour I know I won't see Ava before I leave. I knew this was the plan this morning and I got her excited to see Grace again. I also made plans for Grace to follow.

Ava has these two weeks off but even at home I'd have hired a tutor or governess to keep her sharp on her studies. There will be plenty of time for soaking up the spring sun and splashing in the waves if it's warm enough. But Ava's education is always the first thing on my mind. I want her to have the best chance at life.

The stairs creak as I descend, evidence of the fact this house is nearly two hundred years old. Helen and Burt have done a fantastic job of restoring and maintaining things. It's so close to the beach the salty air has to wreak havoc on the painted wood siding. They have their hands full inside and out. The only thing they don't have to worry about for now is the newly remodeled industrial kitchen, which is where I'm headed. I can't start my day without a cup of coffee.

I weave through the furniture sparsed across the great room and down the narrow hall to the large kitchen. Helen showed me around the space since I have the entire home rented out. I told her I want it to feel like I'm at home this week, not on vacation, so she is allowing me to make my own coffee, take up all twelve bedrooms, and give her husband some much-needed time to do some maintenance and repairs rather than waiting hand and foot on us. Helen is probably relieved to have only three mouths to feed this week instead of dozens.

When I push the swinging door inward and step into the large food prep area, I see Grace standing with her back to me, facing the coffee maker. I'm instantly transported to last night and a pulse of attraction and arousal zips through me. She's wearing baggy sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. Her hair is tied up on top of her head with crazy strands going this way and that. I'm not used to interacting with people this early in the morning, but this is a pleasant sight.

"Good morning," she hums, turning to smile at me. She holds a cup of coffee in hand, steam rising from the hot liquid within it. She wears no makeup, no jewelry, yet she is more ravishing than last night or any other time I've met her. I meet her gaze and think how easy it would be to wake up to that smile every morning.

I say nothing, but I do nod. I'm not much of a morning person. I usually don't find any words until I've had at least one cup of coffee. It's nothing against her at all; I'm just like an old car that needs the accelerator feathered a few times to get started. I take a deep breath and walk across the kitchen to the coffee maker and find a mug that matches Grace's and fill it.

"It's a beautiful morning. I walked down to watch sunrise. It's over now, but it was beautiful. You're off to an early start."

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and feel my face tightening into a scowl. A morning person indeed. She is very chipper, which is probably a good quality--better than being like my grumpy ass that can't seem to find anything to be happy about until ten a. m. I grunt as I sip my coffee and stare into the blackness scalding my lip and tongue. It's perfect, a hot brew on a brisk morning. I wish Helen had to-go cups though. I need to get out of here to be on time. I glance at my watch and Grace goes on.

"So you have a lot of busy days? Think you'll be here to have lunch with Ava? And I was thinking of taking her to the beach today."

"No..." I don't mean to sound too blunt, but I've laid out their plans for the next three weeks and today is not a beach day. "I have lesson plans laid out for you to work with Ava." I sip the coffee and watch her over the rim of the mug. Her forehead creases and her eyes narrow but she says nothing so I continue. "There are workbooks and readers in the school room Helen set up for us. You'll find that it's much like a classroom so Ava will acclimate to it well. Of course, she's a bit stubborn at times, so you may have to work with her to get her convinced to do school here."

Grace's chin drops and she clings to her coffee mug. Her eyes turn away from me, finding the window that overlooks the large deck on the back of the house. She says nothing for a few minutes, staring out at the bit of fog hovering over the patio furniture and flowering bushes. But I see the tension in her jaw; it's set and her lips are pursed.

"Children need structure, Grace. I'm providing that."

"Children learn best in an environment where they are nurtured and free to explore. Curiosity should lead her learning, give her the drive and desire to discover her environment." She says all these things while staring out the window. I find that a bit rude, and because my night-owl nature makes it challenging for me to articulate myself this early, I find myself irritated by her.

"Children need to be told what to do because on their own they will never progress in studies or maturity." I take a bit too large of a gulp of the coffee in my haste and find my entire tongue and the roof of my mouth singed by it. That, in turn, makes me wince and scowl just as Grace turns back to me. She sees my face and hers tightens too. I don't mean to upset her at all, but I suspect I've done just that.

"You did hire me to care for her because I was very good with her. Right?" Her eyebrows rise with the question but it's too late. I'm late and I'm frustrated. I don't even know how to stop the annoyed expression on my face or the grumpiness I feel swirling in my gut.

"I hired you help me with my child. I have specific plans for her to follow and I'd like it if you could just respect that." I set the mug down on the table in front of me and it sloshes coffee onto the stainless-steel surface. Helen never told me where paper towels are, and now I've made mess for her to clean up which only serves to make me grumpier.

"Ava is a baby, Fletcher. She needs time to be a kid. That's why they give students spring break. Can't you just let her explore?" Grace hugs her mug with both hands. She's adorable. I want to relax and let this all go, not fight with her. She and I have a unique chemistry that I feel even though I'm upset with her for protesting my plans. I try to stay calm, but I only upset her more.

"Let me remind you that Ava is my daughter. I hired you to care for her, not undermine my authority."

"You hired a nanny, not a teacher. You need to trust my abilities and experience." She walks out and I am left speechless and somewhat turned on by it. No one pushes back like that with me ever. I am the CEO and leader of my company. I know what I want when I want, and I don't take no for an answer, but here this woman waltzes right into my life. She does as she pleases and says what she wants, and God if that isn't a turn.

I stand there staring at the door long after she's gone. When I begin the search for paper towels in haste--rushing because I know I'm going to be late for sure now--Helen walks in. She has a sheepish look on her face for a split second then she sees the mess and moves directly to one of the cupboards.

"Here, Mr. Davis..." She pulls out a roll of paper towels and rips one off, handing it to me.

"Sorry, I was a bit hasty this morning." I won't bring up to her how aggravated I got or how grumpy I feel now either. Mornings just aren't my thing. I need to limit human interaction this time of day.

"I heard." Helen sets the roll on the metal counter and leans against it. She folds her arms over her chest like a mother hen ready to lecture. Nearly thirty-five years my senior she's old enough to be my mother.

I use the towels to dry up the spilled coffee though the edge of the mess has already set, leaving a coffee ring Helen will have to wash up. There is something about her that makes me feel guilty for snapping at Grace that way. Just the expression on Helen's face feels like a reprimand. I don't even know what to say because I refuse to snap at another person this morning.

"You heard it all?"

"Most of it." She tilts her head to the side and purses her lips. This small town is going to meddle in my life; I can already feel it. Helen is a very nice woman, but something tells me that the instant she noticed the chemistry between us--and it had to be obvious after the sounds Grace made last night--Helen decided we were star-crossed lovers who need a push toward each other.

Carrying the wet paper towels, I head for the bin and discard them. I glance at my watch and realize my driver is probably waiting, but I won't be rude to Helen. Not after all of her hospitality. I straighten and turn to say goodbye to her but she speaks first.

"You know, she's right. A child Ava's age should be playing, not studying during her break." I look into her eyes of wisdom, set beneath bushy grey eyebrows. She's probably raised her own children and knows a thing or two, but my pride is stubborn as my ego.

"Thank you for your advice, Helen. I'll see you this evening."

Leaving my coffee on the table, I head for the door and pick up my briefcase on the way. Something inside of me stirs. I'm upset that Helen agrees with Grace; it's something Nanette used to do--find others to team up against my ideas and make me feel like I'm wrong. She never liked my ideas on parenting or work, and we hardly saw eye to eye on anything regarding Ava. Which is why she found someone she liked better.

I head out to the car and climb in the back seat. The driver knows where I'm going. I say nothing except another grunt of good morning. If Grace really is as stubborn as Nanette was, maybe I've made a mistake in sleeping with her. I thought her genuinely fun and playful nature with Ava was her true nature, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I've made yet another poor choice in women.

Chapter 6

I walk to my room carrying my mug of hot coffee, unsure if I'm even supposed to take the mugs out of the kitchen and dining area. I don't care. Fletcher really pissed me off. Why did he even hire me to nanny Ava if he is going to question my ability to make good choices for her? A lesson plan for her spring break? It's ridiculous. Doesn't he even remember what it's like to be a kid?

And he was rude too, grumpy and curmudgeonous. If I had known he was such a stodgy old man I never would have slept with him. It makes me regret my choice to kiss him. What was I thinking? Not every good-looking, charming man is as cracked up as they seem. I gave my virginity to him willingly because I was smitten by how attractive and charismatic he was, but this morning just proved to me it was a mistake.

My room is my safe haven for now, at least until Ava wakes up. The way I feel I hope she sleeps a little while. I want to calm myself and push thoughts of Fletcher out of my head. There is no reason the rest of this trip has to be so upsetting to me simply because he isn't everything I thought he was. I curl up on the chaise lounge next to a large picture window that overlooks the street below and the beach beyond that. It's the first time I've really had a look at it, since I got in so late last night and was otherwise occupied.

It's a beautiful view. The sand stretches for miles in each direction, though I can only see a smidge of it. The view is obscured by other buildings on each side. But for now I watch the sun slowly rising in the sky over the bay and sip my hot brew. Part of me knows that maybe I overreacted with Fletcher in the kitchen. It's early. It's possible he's not a morning person. Maybe he was just tired and grumpy. But even still, the idea of making a six-year-old child do school work for her entire spring break is crazy to me.

Schools give students breaks in order to allow children's minds to decompress and relax. If the public school system knows how important that is, how can a loving father not know that. I wonder if he's just one of those distant fathers who toss money at their kids and their problems in order to keep the peace. Not only is that frustrating as a nanny who is supposed to come in and care for a child who probably has emotional needs, but I can't date a guy like that. And now I've given him some sign that I'm interested. I should have waited...

"Grace?" The tiny voice at my door is a surprise. I expected to hear the pitter patter of a child's footsteps or some sort of other noises to indicate that she was awake. But Ava stands at my door, now knocking softly. Her sleepy voice calls my name again as I rise and set my coffee mug on the bedside table and shuffle to the door to open it. "Grace?"

I turn the knob and pull the door open slowly to reveal a sleepy-eyed toe head with blonde ringlets plastered to her chubby cheeks. She rubs her eyes and yawns before smiling at me broadly.

"Good morning, Ava. How did you sleep?" I crouch in front of her and push some hair out of her face. Her pajama pants are bunched up around her knees. When I pull them down I see they are too short. It makes me scowl at the fact that Fletcher still puts her in them, but I try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Men aren't as perceptive as women, and Ava has no feminine influence in her life that I know of.

"I'm hungry," she whines and throws her head back, without answering the question I asked about how she slept. Then she fakes a cry and leans on the door jamb in a dramatic manner. I chuckle and take her hand.

"You are? You can ask for breakfast and we can go get it."

Ava scrunches her face up and looks at me through slitted eyes. "I can?"

I chuckle again. "Yes, you can. Now, go run to your room and put on some shorts and a t-shirt. I will get dressed too, and we will have breakfast. I heard that Helen has some pancakes planned this morning."

Ava's eyes light up and she blurts out, "I like pancakes." Then she dashes back up the hallway to where the door to her room stands open. I hear it slam and retreat into my room to dress.

As I select a sundress and clean undergarments, I think about Ava's behavior. Why did she think she had to whine first thing to get my attention and breakfast? Is Fletcher so busy in the mornings she has to pout and throw a fit to get his attention just for food? If so, how often does that happen? Is it an every morning thing? That's a huge red flag in my opinion of a parent who isn't paying enough attention to their child. He's a busy man, quite successful. I wonder if he really does neglect her.

By the time I'm dressed, Ava is back at my door. There is no time for makeup or even to brush my teeth yet, so I take her hand and lead her downstairs to the kitchen. The scent of fresh pancakes and bacon frying hits my nostrils and wakes me up a bit more. Ava is playful and a little ill-mannered as we sit to eat. She hardly touches her breakfast, eating like a bird, but I know she'll eat when she's hungry.

We brush our teeth and I send her to make her bed as I step into the room Helen prepared for us to do studies. When Ava finally joins me about forty minutes later, I know her bed is likely unmade still, and I am frustrated by Fletcher's rigorous plans. She has a sour look on her face and I feel the same way. This is supposed to be spring break, not study camp.

"I don't want to do school." Ava's whine is back, and I don't blame her. She needs a break about this and a chance to be a kid. Kids need fresh air and sunlight and so do I.

"Then we won't." I clap my hands then clasp them in front of myself and her eyes light up.

"We won't? Can we play outside?" She giggles and jumps up and down. If Fletcher is mad at me for not getting her studies done, so be it. He can be angry. I want her to be happy today and since I am in charge and he's not here we are doing what I want.

"No. We won't. I say let's go to the beach. How does that sound?"

Ava squeals in delight and races toward her room only to emerge with sandals and a sand bucket. I feel bold ignoring Fletcher's requests and taking her out to the sand and waves, but it feels energizing too. Maybe he will see a difference in the way she's behaving simply because she's allowed to be a child without such heavy expectations.

We spend the day at the beach, returning for lunch, and then an afternoon snack. I have to put sunblock on her multiple times but despite my best attempts to keep her slathered in the white creamy lotion, she still ends up pink on the shoulders and across her nose. I bathe her and feed her dinner, but the clock ticks on, growing later and later. Fletcher isn't here for the evening meal, and he doesn't call to say why. I try calling him but to no answer. Helen and Burt--who I meet at the dinner table--turn in early around eight p. m. but still no sign of Fletcher.

I read to Ava and tuck her in, having a tickle fight before finally getting her to settle. She hugs me and offers a kiss on my cheek thanking me for a fun day. I can't help but feel totally in love with this little girl. The whining this morning at breakfast continued through until just after lunch when I continued to shower her with love. At some point she relaxed and became a normal child.

I stand in her doorway watching her lie in bed with her eyes closed. The nightlight on the wall glows a soft pink, illuminating everything in the room in a hazy glow. I know I made the right choice to take her out for the day instead of keeping her stuck in this stuffy old house doing worksheets. So, shutting the door, I decide not to return to my room. Helen showed me where the liquor cabinet was in case I wanted a drink, so I slide downstairs and pour myself a few fingers of rum in a glass tumbler and park myself in a chair in the great room closest to the front door.

When Fletcher returns, he's going to get an earful. I just have to sit here and wait for him. Hopefully the whiskey relaxes me so I'm not so on edge and irritable with him.

Chapter 7

Pulling up to the old B&B totally exhausted and frustrated with my day, I take my briefcase and phone and climb out so the driver can head home. My phone's been dead since before quitting time. I spent the better part of the morning on teleconference calls with Chicago and the donors from Boston.

Things didn't pan out the way they should have all day. Paperwork isn't in line for the rezoning after a neighboring home was taken down, so we have to push city council to speed up the process. No one was happy and I barely held it together. They called me out here prematurely, but I'm not going to let it get the better of me.

I trudge up the steps carrying my suit coat draped across my arm. I shove my phone in my pocket and let myself into the home then lock up. Ava's shoes and a pair of women's sandals are here on a floor mat next to the door, covered in sand. There is a child's bucket and shovel here too, also covered in sand. I press my eyes shut and try not to be too frustrated. Maybe Grace took Ava down to the beach after her studies were finished. I don't expect them to have no fun at all.

As I pass through the great room I see Grace sleeping in one of the armchairs, curled up in a way that looks like her neck will hurt in the morning. I almost stop to wake her, but she is a big girl. She can wake herself and go to bed. I climb the stairs, each one presenting a challenge for my tired legs. I haven't worked a day this long in years, not since Nanette left and I decided Ava had to be my everything. I feel terrible leaving her all day and I hope the rest of this trip will not be as demanding.

When I get to my room I drop my things and kick my shoes off, then head to Ava's room. She's sleeping soundly. I kiss her forehead and breathe in the scent of her lavender shampoo. Grace bathed her and put her to bed, and judging by the stack of books on the nightstand, Ava also had a bedtime story or two. I turn out the nightlight and shut the door on the way out, but as I pass the study room, I notice everything is exactly as I left it.

The books on the small table in the center of the room are still organized alphabetically. I pick up the top one and thumb through it. It's all blank. Nothing has been done. So I thumb through a few more only to find they're all blank. Grace did nothing with Ava today. That gets me hot under the collar and I find my jaw clenching in response.

"God's sake, woman..." I growl under my breath and walk back to the landing where I can see the living room and the sleeping nanny who refused my orders in a very defiant move. I don't have emotional energy for this today, but if Grace isn't corrected, she will do the same thing tomorrow. I didn't hire her to be a playmate. I hired her to fulfill my wishes.

I march down the stairs maybe a little too loudly, but I don't care if I wake her. I'm frustrated at her lack of respect for me. She needs to know that she has to do what I've asked her to do and that there are no exceptions. Maybe she's pulling this shit because her brother is my best friend and an employee. Maybe she's just that bold. I don't know, but it will stop now.

Despite how loud my foot fall is, she doesn't stir. I walk right up to her and suck in a deep breath in preparation for my lecture to begin, but when I look at her peaceful face, and I notice the empty whiskey glass on the nightstand, I realize I can't lecture her now. She's been drinking. I'm not sure if she's a weepy drunk or an angry drunk, but none of my words will come across right. She'll never remember it either, if she's anything like Nanette.

I sigh softly and study her soft, creamy complexion. She's beautiful when she sleeps, eyes shut gently, forehead uncreased from worries. And her pouty lips twitch in a smile. I wonder what she's dreaming, if she's thinking of something back home or if she's remembering the time she spent on the beach today. Those sandy shoes are a hard piece of evidence to her rebellion.

"You're going to have a kink in your neck," I whisper, unconsciously reaching for her. I try to tuck a rolled blanket under her head, but she wraps her arms around me.

"Hold me," she mumbles, clinging to me tightly and I find myself feeling so drawn to her again. All my frustration from my day aside, Grace is a vibrant and caring woman. She may not agree with me on how to raise my child, but I know she loves children and does really well with them. I wonder how her day went, if Ava gave her a hard time.

"You're drunk, Grace. You need to get to bed." I try to pry her arms from around my neck but she tightens her grip.

"Carry me..." Her eyes blink open then shut again tightly. As I straighten, she comes with me, dangling across my chest. I wrap my arms around her thin frame and feel back. She can't lay here in this chair and end up with a back ache. How will she care for Ava if she does?

So I lift her into my arms and cradle her as I mount the stairs. She smells like honey and lemons. The drink probably, a Hot Toddy if I ever smelled one. And she's lighter than I thought she'd be. It's effortless to carry her to her room. The most difficult part is opening the door with her in my arms and no hands free.

Her bed is unmade. Dirty clothes lay strewn about the room. It's messier than I would leave my place, but she's her own woman. I use a stockinged-toe to push the covers down then lay her on the bed, but she still clings to me. I have no choice but to hover over her, inches from her face, as I carefully pry her fingers apart.

"Stay with me... Okay? You sleep with me and hold me." Her breath, so hot on my cheek, reeks of alcohol, but I'm not turned off. I put a knee down on the bed to steady myself and manage to extricate myself from her grasp. "Please..." she whispers as she grabs my shirt and pulls me in for a kiss.

It's a deep kiss right off the bat. Her lips are wide and her tongue searches my mouth and I feel my cock tightening and swelling instantly. I want her. Fuck, do I want her. Even though she completely ignored my requests, even though she infuriated me this morning. I fucking want her so bad my dick is rearing to go, but I can't. She's drunk and it's not right.

So I take both of her wrists in my hand and tenderly pin them to her chest as I kiss her forehead. "Not tonight, Grace. Sleep..."

It takes every ounce of self-control I have to back away from her bed and leave her there. I cover up and avoid her hand reaching for me, but then I leave. If I stay a second longer I will be in that bed with her and that won't be good. As it is, I do a walk of shame up the hallway with a hard dick bulging in the crotch of my slacks and pray Helen and Burt don't wake up and come out here.

In my room, there is no containing the beast. I pace for at least five straight minutes trying to get her out of my head. I can't. She got to me. I can't turn it off and now I'm so freakin' horny I know I won't sleep. I'll lay in that bed and have a damn wet dream if I don't fix this problem. How did this happen?

How can the most infuriating woman in the world get in my head like this? I mean, yes it's sexy as fuck that she stands up to me and is confident about it, but this? Why can't I just let it go?

I strip off and head for my shower thinking maybe some cold water will chill me enough that I forget about her but it doesn't help at all. And if I don't sleep well, I won't have a good day tomorrow either. So I do something I know I'll later regret. I give in.

Closing my eyes, I think of her and the way it felt the instant her pussy gave way to my girth and that's all it takes. My hand isn't quite the same, but it brings the needed relief so I can sleep. I need Grace Reynolds out of my head, or I need her in my bed, but if she can't respect my wishes as a parent, I can't have her.

We'll talk, and hopefully she understands and starts respecting me, because fuck if I want to beat off again thinking of her when she sleeps only four doors down from me and I know how she feels when I bury myself in her.

Chapter 8

Holding the tiny lighthouse-themed wreath in my hand I keep an eye on Ava in my periphery. She holds the stuffed mermaid doll I purchased for her a few shops back. We're with Helen today in town, finding all the best treasures that Cape May has to offer. It's Friday afternoon, and our first week has passed mostly uneventfully. Fletcher insists I do studies with Ava, but I've been doing activities that incorporate the things he wants her to stay fresh on.

For the most part he's kept to himself, mostly because by the time he gets back to the house it's late and Ava is already sleeping. We pass like ships in the night. He asks about our day and I leave out how I fully neglect his workbooks in favor of creative play time. He seems focused on his job and spends only a few seconds kissing Ava goodnight before heading to his room to crash.

I want to call him out on it, but it's not my place. I wish we had more time to talk too, for me to let him know how much Ava has improved only in a week with her whining and behavioral outbursts. She is learning manners quickly, or maybe she already knew them but had a poor reaction to me to begin with. I'm not sure. I just know she's been pleasant and happy for me, even getting into our learning games.

Which is why I've brought her out today for some sightseeing. Helen is nice enough to show us around and introduce us to folks. We met Bernie at the donut shop. She's a sweet old gal with an even sweeter sense of taste. I had to limit Ava to only one confection, since it was a chocolate donut drizzled in caramel icing, topped with gummy worms and sprinkles. The sugar coma that kid would go into if I let her alone in that store for only a few seconds...

"Grace, can I have this?" she asks, bringing me a book. I'm surprised it's not another candy bar or doll of some sort. She has asked for so many things I've had to reinforce a number of times that I'm not made of money. It has also made me seriously question my original thought about Fletcher just buying her anything she wants to try to prove he loves her. Which, of course, isn't at all love, but kids don't understand that at this age.

I take the book in my hand and read the cover: "Love You Forever, hey, that's a great book." The price tag is within my souvenir budget and Ava seems very drawn to the book. "Alright, I can buy this for you." I smile and offer it back to her and she beams.

"I like shopping with you." Her hair, tied up in pigtails, bobs above her shoulders as she reaches up to take the book back. Her mermaid toy, tucked under her arm, looks like a miniature version of her--blonde curls and bright rosy cheeks. This child is so charming I wish she were mine, that I could take her home to Chicago and take care of her and never allow her to suffer or wonder where her dad is.

She darts off into the store and finds more interesting things to look at while I ponder how many times she's asked this week where Fletcher is. She misses him. Strangely, I find myself missing him too, and with two weeks left on this trip, I wonder when her bad behavior will resurface. He can't possibly live like this at home. If he did, he would have a live-in nanny who could have traveled with him. Why would he need me then?

I sigh as Helen walks up next to me. She hooks her arm through mine and says, "There's someone I want you to meet."

I nod and follow her, watching Ava across the room. Helen leads me to the register where yet another older woman stands with cheery eyes and a broad grin. I love the quaint feel of this town's shops and the local charm. Everyone is friendly and polite, and everyone has a story. I wonder what this woman's story is.

"Betty, this is Grace. She and her male friend have booked up the B&B for a full three weeks. All of the rooms." She widens her eyes and her eyebrows rise as she emphasizes the word "all."

Betty, clearly smitten by the idea of me having a "male friend," grins and focuses on me. I feel like I'm in one of those little towns where everyone knows everything about everyone else. Like my private discussions with Fletcher have become the town gossip of this little beach cape and I'm about to be charmed into some romantic adventure. That in the end I'll get a toe-popping kiss and live happily ever after. Unfortunately, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"Hi, Betty," I say, offering my hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Phew!" she half-whistles, half-speaks. "The entire B&B? That's a hefty chunk of money for a three-week stay."

I'm not sure how to respond to that because I don't even know what one night in one room costs. Fletcher is loaded, I'll give her that. But I mind my business and do my job.

"Yes, well Mr. Davis is designing the new library expansion." I try to divert her attention away from me and pull out my pocketbook as I turn and call "Ava, let's pay for your book now."

"Oh, Betty, she's the nanny. Taking care of the rich man's child." Helen snickers and leans in and says something behind her hand to Betty which only makes the other woman giggle like a school child. Then Helen turns to me and touches my arm lightly. "I'll wait in the car, dear."

Helen walks away leaving me in a very awkward position with Betty, but I manage to pay and guide Ava out to the car without much more hassle. Ava climbs in the back and reads her book as Helen drives. I want to explain to her that it's uncomfortable the way she insinuates that Fletcher and I are a couple, but she's so nice to chauffeur us. I don't want to be rude.

"We just have one more stop I'm sure Ava will love." There is a glint in her eye as she turns down a narrow side street through a residential area.

"Of course. I just want to make sure we're back in time to get her dinner and a bath. I hope Mr. Davis is back in time for dinner tonight. It's been a long week." I don't need time away from Ava, but seeing him interact with his daughter would be nice. So far the only time I've seen her with him is at that game when he focused solely on me.

"Oh it will just take a few minutes." She turns down another street and into a parking lot that is almost full. I read the sign on the building that says, "Cape May Public Library," and my chest instantly tightens.

"Uh... the library?" I can't take Ava in there. This is where Fletcher is working and if he sees me out and about with her instead of doing studies, he will be furious. I've all but avoided the topic when we've spoken and during the middle of his workday doesn't seem like the best time to bring it up.

"Yes, she loves books." Helen, now parked, nods at Ava whose face is buried in the colorful pictures of the book I bought for her. "This will save you some money dear. Let's get her a hundred!" The joy on her face is enough to make me not want to discourage her. I bet she has a dozen grandkids she barely gets to see and Ava reminds her of them.

Helen pops out of the car and rounds the back end to open Ava's door for her, while I reluctantly slide out of the passenger seat with lead shoes. Every step is a chore, moving closer to the building and my public humiliation. Fletcher will be furious if he sees, but maybe he won't see. Maybe he is in some office somewhere with men in suits discussing building plans.

I take Ava's hand as we enter the cool air of the building. The air conditioning is a relief from the spring heat, but that's not what chills my blood. Fletcher is standing across the room with his back to us. He is speaking to a few men in suits, a few women too, and doesn't see us right now. If Helen is trying to play matchmaker, she's doing it all wrong. This will only cause more problems, besides the fact that Fletcher already doesn't like me since I don't play along with his rules.

"Uh, Ava, let's go to the kids' section." I see the sign hanging overhead and guide her that way while Helen jabbers about her favorite books. Ava seems enthralled with the older woman, but all I can do is glance over my shoulder a hundred times to make sure Fletcher doesn't see us. And every time Ava looks his way, I stand in front of her to make sure she doesn't see him.

We do so well, I think we may actually get out of this place without an altercation when Helen leads Ava to the checkout desk at the same time Fletcher turns toward us. His eyes go wide and Ava sees him. She blurts out, "Daddy!" and races over to him, wrapping his knees in a bear hug.

Heat burns my cheeks as I take hurried steps his direction. Helen winks at me and carries Ava's stash of books to check them out for her as I sheepishly smile and nod at Fletcher's business associates, then finally make eye contact with him. I see the anger beneath the surface as he gently peels Ava's arms away from him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my daughter, Ava." He takes her by the shoulders and gets her to straighten up as I grab her hand.

"So nice to meet you, Ava."

"How adorable."

The voices, one-by-one, sound off their approval of her adorable face while he scowls at me. I can't hold eye contact because I know this is an overstep. I'm supposed to have her at the house working on schooling, not out at the library--though it is a place of learning, but he'll never see it that way. I can tell by the furrows on his forehead that he thinks of this as an intrusion.

Ava tells the men and women about her books and he stands with his back to them and leans in until I can hear him say, "Please take her back to the house. Interrupting my work is unacceptable."

"I didn't mean to--"

"Now," he snaps and then straightens his suitcoat and turns around. "They were just headed out with a load of books to read. Weren't you, Grace?"

I feel anger rising in my chest. I'm not offended that he didn't introduce me, but I am upset that he would insinuate that I've done this on purpose. I nod at him and bend down to whisper into Ava's ear, "Let's go to the beach."

She giggles and waves at Fletcher. "Bye, Daddy!" Her little voice is already drowned out with more work talk before we get out of earshot and my heart rages against his horrible parenting. I don't even wait for Helen to finish her checkout. I head straight to the car where we wait for her to come to us.

The rest of my day is filled with questions from Ava about why her dad works at a library and if he's a librarian. She throws a tantrum about dinner, refusing to eat, then makes a huge mess in her bath. I can't tell if she's feeding off my negative emotions about the day or if she's just acting out because she saw Fletcher and misses him. When he walks in just before bedtime, I get my answer. Ava straightens up into the happiest girl alive again and I retreat to let him tuck her in.

He doesn't even see how much she needs him and it hurts my heart to know that's why she was acting up all evening. I lock myself in my room to brood. Heaven knows I have nothing to say to him at all this evening. Not after his reaction to her today.

Chapter 9

I kneel next to Ava's bed and brush a few strands of curly blonde hair out of her baby blues. It pains me to have to be away from her so much and I can see by the way she clings to me that it's hurting her too. She was acting up a bit before the trip the way she usually does. It makes her antsy to travel and add that to her already stubborn personality and it makes her challenging on her best days. It was a delight to see her at the library, but it was just the wrong timing.

"But I don't want you to work tomorrow, Daddy. I want you to play with me." She pets my face as if I'm a dog, mimicking the way I cup her cheek and curl her stray hairs around her ear.

"I know, baby. I don't mean to leave you alone so much. I'm sorry it's not like it is at home, but I promise when this trip is over we can go back to normal."

Her little face screws up into a scowl and she says, "Can we go home now?" It makes my heart sink. I have two more weeks of this to deal with and it's stretching me as a person too. I hate to know she's sad or suffering in any way.

"No, baby. We can't go home right now. Daddy has a job to do, but I promise we will get some time soon. Maybe we can go to the playground this weekend." I know I have a few meetings tomorrow morning, but other than that my schedule is clear.

I kiss her forehead and stand and she whines, but she remains lying down. "I'm going to go now, but you need to sleep. You rest, alright. I'll pay with you tomorrow." I pry my hand from her grasp and she whimpers as I walk to the door and turn off the light. The soft glow from the nightlight across the room bothers me, but if she's happy with it on I'll leave it for now. Grace has to know that leaving a light on in a child's room is the same thing as leaving headphones running in your ears nonstop. Eyes need rest too.

As I shut the door I realize I'm doing it again, challenging Grace's views on raising a child. She was right when she told me I hired her to do a job and that I needed to trust her. It was a crappy morning and I was irritable. Even the challenging conversations we've had since then were all because I was stressed, especially the one at the library today. She deserves an explanation and an apology, so I head for her door next, not mine like I want. I need a shower, but it's more important to make sure she knows I believe in her and I'm thankful she came along.

I tap on the door lightly before I turn the knob and open it. Grace is sitting on her bed reading. The scowl on her face makes me hesitate but I know she's upset with me anyway. Apologizing is the first step toward making things better. We just had a misunderstanding that is completely my fault.

"Can I come in?"

"I don't own the place." She slaps the book shut and tosses it to the foot of the bed as I step in and shut the door. "Seems I don't have a say anywhere at all. I'm not sure why you even hired me in the first place."

Her vitriol is harsh, stinging my conscience. I almost snap at her for being so upset, but I try to keep my calm despite how angry she is. "I wanted to talk about a few things, firstly about what happened today." I step closer to her and notice the way her mascara is smeared under her eyes. She's been crying, which only makes me feel worse.

"You mean how you pushed your daughter away in public and made her upset?" Grace slides off the bed with hands fisted at her sides. "That was horrible you know? She misses you. She was excited to see you and you just pushed her away."

I take a step back and scowl. "You interrupted a meeting with the board of trustees for the library. We were in tense talks about the budget for the expansion and they weren't happy with me at all. I may lose the contract. I was standing there fighting for my job in that moment and Ava just runs up to me. What am I supposed to do?"

Her eyes flash with fury and she steps closer to me. "Love her. That's what you're supposed to do. Love her more than your stupid job."

"Oh I can't even believe this." How many times have I heard that come out of Nanette's mouth? That job pays for all of this, for trips and homes, and school and toys. And here this woman is, not even my wife and telling me how to live? I want to bite her head off but I can't. I don't even get a word in because she keeps going off.

"And another thing, you think a child needs to be in school twenty-four seven, but you don't even realize that she needs to play. How will she learn to climb or skip or ride a bike. She needs core strength and visual stimulation." She steps toward me, that same fury on her entire face now. She's passionate about this, and I'm seeing just how much so. Her whole body is invested every time she inches closer to me.

"She needs structure," I say on autopilot, something I'd retort to Nanette back in the day, but I'm seeing things from a different view right now. Grace has this uncanny ability to change my mind even when I know I'm right. And she smells amazing while she does it--this time it's like coffee and cinnamon. I want to be mad. I reach for that anger inside of me but it has vanished.

"You are absent and ignorant. You hardly spend time with her. She misses you. She wants her father around and you send a nanny in your place. She's going to grow up without knowing what love is because you withhold it. You send her to school and probably fill her entire schedule with activities and camps so you can work all day."

Grace's rambling is entirely unfounded, but I let her go off. I find the way her nose curls up at the end adorable. She waves her hands as she rants and scowls. Her tits sway beneath that thin, white t-shirt. I stifle a chuckle and try to hide my smile too. She is so goddamn sexy right now and she has no clue.

"And furthermore--"

"Furthermore? What is this, nineteen sixteen?" My voice is calm now, as I find myself getting turned on by this. I'm not angry at all anymore. I came to apologize because I knew I had acted poorly. All this pent-up rage, though, is comical.

"Stop it! Stop correcting me. Stop telling me how to do my job and what is the right thing, you have no idea how to raise a child at all. You should have hired me ages ago because you're failing." She steps closer and I'm practically leaning over her. I turn my face down toward her, and I can't hide the smile. She goes off on me about that too, but I can't stop.

She's gorgeous, and funny, and hella intelligent. And this fiery passion is incredible, making me want to douse the flames with my body. She screams and swings her arms wildly gesturing to make a point but all I can do is reach up and cradle her head, tilting it back as I lower my mouth to hers and swallow her words. She pushes against my chest, fighting me, but I hold her there until she stops squirming and kisses me back.

It's hot. The kiss carries every bit of her fury and multiplies it.

When I pull away I whisper, "You're hot when you're angry."

"I hate you," she mumbles, but her mouth is on mine again immediately devouring me. I nudge her back toward the bed and she topples. I push the book and a few other things lying on the foot of the bed off onto the floor and she's already clawing at my shirt. "You are so neglectful, spending all your time at work when you should be with your daughter." Her hands work feverishly at my buttons while I yank her leggings down and expose her mound to my view.

"You should learn to keep your mouth shut and do what you're told." Letting my weight settle over her I kick off my shoes and claim her lips again. Fuck if I don't want to have this amount of passion and hunger for a woman every day of my life, even if it means butting heads sometimes.

"Just because you push my buttons doesn't mean I am okay with the way you treat your daughter." Grace has the front of my shirt open now, running her hands over my skin. Her hands are hot, fingers scratching my chest.

"Hmmm, God, I want you."

I reach down and slip a finger inside her, making her moan. I feel her body start to relax under me, her anger dissipating with each touch. She's so responsive, so passionate, and I can't get enough. I kiss my way down her neck, nipping at her shirt as I make my way to her breasts. I hike the shirt up and find her braless. Her nipples are already hard, and I take one into my mouth, sucking hard as I continue to finger her.

She arches her back, pushing her chest into my mouth, and I can feel her desire growing. I slip another finger inside her, pumping harder as her moans bet louder. She clenches around my fingers and my dick twitches, wishing it was me. She's so close now, and I can feel myself getting harder with each sound she makes.

"This changes nothing," she whimpers, rocking her hips against mine, and I find the fly of my pants and unzip.

"It changes everything," I growl as I free my cock. "God, you're so fucking hot."

"I hate you," she whines and I rub myself on her. "Fuck me already."

She doesn't have to ask twice. I've been ready to have her again since the moment I pulled out last time. She gasps as I slide into her, thrusting and driving my cock as deep as it can go. Her body around me feels incredible. "I hate you," she repeats, but her eyes are closed and she's lost in the movement.

"I know." I lean down and kiss her before pulling out and then pump into her as hard as I can. She's so wet and warm, and I can't get enough of her. No condom this time means I have to pull out, but God, what I wouldn't' do to just blow in her, feel my seed rush in around my dick while I pump into her.

Grace is amazing, writhing beneath me in a flustered mess. She pants and whimpers and then I feel her pussy clenching, spasming around me. I close my eyes and enjoy each rhythmic pulsing sensation until I can't take it anymore. My balls draw up and tighten; my body feels like it will blow, and I pull out, clamping my thumb over the end of my cock before it explodes.

She lays there panting, but I don't get that luxury of enjoying an afterglow. In fact, the stunted orgasm leaves me craving so much more from her, but I'm spent now. I still feel the pressure in my balls, but no true release, no relief, no satisfaction. I roll off the bed and take a tissue from the box on her nightstand and hold it over the end of my dick as cum dribbles out. I'll piss the rest out later, but at least there will be no mess.

I hear her heavy breathing and it's not just labored because of the activity. She's still upset, and I don't know how to fix that. I wipe my dick clean and toss the tissue, then zip myself into my pants and see her fighting with her leggings.

"You can't just do that."

"Do what?" I ask, humored by her frustration.

"Seduce me because you think I'm easy just because I'm angry." Her face is red; she's still flustered. She liked it as much as me.

"Do you know how attractive I find you when you're so bent out of shape? I think it's absolutely adorable, Grace." I straighten my shirt and bend to pick up my shoes and she reaches for a pillow and throws it at me. It smacks me in the head and I chuckle.

"I'll be around if you want to talk at all." I feel bad leaving her so upset, but I'm not sure how to calm her down. She has no clue what type of parent I normally am, and thanks to the troubles on this project, I haven't been able to show her.

"You can leave now." She sits there untangling her panties from the legs of the stretch pants in her hands and I wish there was something more I could say to her. I will prove to her that I'm not the guy she thinks I am. I just can't do that tonight.

"I hope that felt as amazing for you as I think you are." I step into the hall and hear another pillow hit the door as I shut it, along with a quiet scream-growl.

I return to my room with the resolve that this weekend I will show Grace the real man I am. She'll see how mistaken she is, at least I hope.

But when I plug my phone in and it turns on, I see a message from the project manager. City council will be in zoning committee all weekend and I'm needed with them to sort things out. I slump onto the bed discouraged. All that and I will still look like a complete failure as a father, only worse. Now Grace probably thinks I've taken advantage of her too. God, I need to make this right.

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