She stares at my hand like it’s a viper and I chuckle. “You know when someone offers a hand like this, you’re typically supposed to shake it.”
She smiles hesitantly.
“Oh right, duh. Um, I’m Marcy,” the young woman states once more. “Nice to meet you, Jared.”
My grin widens. Definitely very cute, I think ruefully. “You already told me your name,” I remind her.
She nods, two spots of color forming on her cheeks.
“Shit, you’re right. Oh god, sorry for saying shit. I never cuss in front of kids, I promise,” Marcy stammers. “Listen, should I go? I feel like maybe I should go.” She makes a move toward the door but I hold up a hand to stop her from moving.
“Marcy, take a breath,” I order firmly. “It’s going to be fine.”
The young woman takes a deep, calming inhale, her stunning almond eyes locked on mine. “Yeah, that feels better,” she says quietly before biting her bottom lip. “Thanks.”
I nod.
“Let’s begin again. So you’re the babysitter?” I ask her skeptically.
“Yes? From Child Mine?” Marcy answers hesitantly. She fidgets with her hair once more. “I know the other girl cancelled, but honestly, maybe I should call the agency and have them send an emergency sitter. It’s fine. It happens sometimes, and I don’t mind.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to be late to my event as it is, so I don’t have time to wait for another sitter to get here.”
Marcy shakes her head adamantly. “No, seriously, they can have someone here in like fifteen minutes, tops, I’m sure of it. This happens sometimes. Well, not this, because obviously I don’t know that many babysitters who moonlight as… well, you know, but you get what I’m saying.”
The poor woman looks like she’s so embarrassed that I almost consider having her call the agency just to put her out of her misery. But a quick glance at my watch confirms that I really don’t have the time to spared.
Besides, it might be kind of fun to have her in my house waiting for me when I get home.
“I’m sorry, I just want to know,” Marcy begins cautiously.
“What is it?” I furrow my brow at her tone.
“Um,” Marcy leans toward me. She smells delightful— fresh and young and sweet. “Are you married?” she asks quietly. “I mean, not that it matters at the club, but just so I know what to expect. Is there a Mrs. Michaels who’s going to pop out of the woodwork in about two seconds?”
I smirk. “There is no Mrs. Michaels,” I inform Marcy. “Now that we’re clear on that, do you have more questions?”
She shakes her head slowly, those big brown eyes regarding me.
“Not at the moment, especially since you’re in a rush.”
I nod.
“Then you’re able to stay tonight?”
Marcy bites her lip once more. “Yes, if you’re sure it’s not a problem for you.”
“It’s not a problem for me,” I reassure her. “We’ll talk more once I get back, okay? But for now, let’s just go with the plan and then we’ll regroup afterwards. My daughter—"
And as if on cue, my five year old comes bouncing into the room at that moment, waving a fairy wand in one hand and wielding a toy sword in the other. Vivian looks just like me with her blue eyes, jet black hair, and olive skin. She runs up to Marcy, wraps her arms around Marcy’s legs, and smiles up at her with a brilliant, toothy grin.
“Daddy said that I can play Princess Polly before I go to bed! Will you play with me?” Vivi asks in her squeaky voice.
Marcy’s demeanor changes completely as soon as she sees my daughter, softening and growing maternal. “Of course I will, sweetheart, as long as it’s okay with your dad.”
“It is, but only until it’s time to wind down for bed,” I remind Vivi as I scoop her into my arms. She squeals delighted and wriggles about a bit, still waving her wand. “Okay pumpkin, this is Marcy. She’s going to hang out with you for the next few hours while I go do boring grownup stuff.”
“Marcy,” Vivi repeats her sitter’s name. “I like that name. I’m Vivi. Can I name one of my dollies after you?”
Marcy giggles. “Only if she looks like me,” she agrees.
“Daddy, did you hear that?” Vivi lisps, staring at the beautiful woman as if mesmerized by her. “Can I get a new doll with brown hair like Marcy?”
I know exactly how my daughter feels because to be honest, I’m mesmerized by our gorgeous babysitter as well.
“All right, let’s show Marcy around before I have to go,” I say in a gruff tone before leading the two girls to the kitchen, where I’ve written out some information for tonight. Then, I plop my daughter onto the floor and grab my notes off of the fridge. Marcy leans in a bit to read as well, and there’s that sexy scent of hers again. It’s like a warm summer morning, complete with dew drops on petals and sunshine glinting on an emerald green lawn. What the fuck? Dew drops? Emeralds? What the hell is going on with me? I growl, shaking my head to get my thoughts under control as my grip on the note tightens.