Keenan
Keenan closed his eyes under the shower spray and his thoughts immediately went back to a certain red-haired enigma. It blew him away that after months of thinking about Ryleigh, he’d actually met her sister at his cousin’s house yesterday.
Jessie suggested her sister could help Keenan out with Tommy after he’d mentioned he couldn’t find a trustworthy nanny. At the mere mention of the name Ryleigh, his palms got sweaty. When she showed him a picture of his Ryleigh, he didn’t want to let go of the picture and insisted Jessie that she should have her sister call him about the job.
Although his cousin Declan and his wife Bree suspected something weird was going on with him when he kept staring at her picture like a lunatic, they didn’t press him about it—for which he was grateful.
Tommy couldn’t adjust at his daycare after his mom left them. When Keenan picked up an inconsolable child for three weeks straight, he’d agreed with his mother that he should let her and his sisters help him with Tommy.
A full-time nanny would give Tommy more structure, especially now Keenan was about to take over his dad’s construction company.
He had no idea what in the hell possessed him to ask Ryleigh of all people to work for him. She hadn’t recognized his voice when they talked about the nanny job over the phone yesterday.
He’d been nothing but professional and it hadn’t felt right to bring up meeting her at fight night. He’d asked all the right questions one should ask a potential nanny. Ryleigh had impressed him with her answers on his extensive list of ‘what would you do if…’-questions.
After contacting all four favorable references of other families she’d babysat when she’d been younger, he’d invited her over to meet his son today.
The doorbell rang, and he panicked for a moment before he realized it couldn’t be Ryleigh because she would come over this afternoon.
Keenan slammed the frosted shower door shut behind his naked ass with unnecessary force. Was it too much to ask to enjoy a three-minute shower?
How sad had his life become if standing a few minutes under a scalding spray with his eyes closed, matched the feeling of a three-day spa retreat? He snatched a soft towel from the towel radiator and slung one end over his shoulder, making quick work to dry his back.
The doorbell rang a second time, and a giddy laugh from his son Tommy traveled up the stairs.
Keenan stuck his head through the bathroom door into the hallway. “I’m coming!”
At least his son wouldn’t open the door. Not because he would listen to his father for once. No. It had everything to do with Keenan locking the doors downstairs before showering.
“Dad! She’s not going away. And I gave her my scary face…”
A soft smile tugged at Keenan’s lips. He had a direct visual of his son sticking two fingers on his upper eyelids and pulling the skin to his eyebrows. He would make his eyes turn white while peering down his nose. And to compliment the look, Tommy often stuck out his tongue to reach the tip of his button nose.
“Tommy Aiden Mills,” Keenan used his dad voice in a half-assed attempt to stop his son from scaring the caller at their front door.
“She’s laughing, Dad.”
Keenan folded the towel around his hips and tucked the end in at his waist. He didn’t bother putting something on for a random door-to-door salesperson.
If she hadn’t annoyed him by ringing the door multiple times, he would have taken the courtesy to produce some jeans before opening the door. He let his chest air-dry since the Texas morning sun had already warmed his two-story house.
He descended the stairs two at a time and ruffled Tommy’s golden hair when he passed him on his way to the front door.
“Did you clean up your plate?”
Keenan didn’t need to glance around the corner to know Tommy’s plate still laid on the kitchen table.
“Oh, eh, I forgot…” Tommy turned on his heel and fled into the kitchen.
Keenan finally opened the door, and his hand flew to the knot in his towel so his jaw would be the only thing dropping to the floor.
“Ryleigh…” he said after a sharp intake of breath.
Shit. She’s already here.
The same piercing eyes that had haunted him these past months traveled from his bare feet up to his hairy legs, over the fluffy towel that now seemed miraculously shorter than when he’d folded it a minute ago. Did her stare linger on his groin before she eyed his slightly damp chest? He shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
Ryleigh shot her head up and said, “Hi, Mr. Mills.”