“Your bed will be brought up soon.”
“It’s fine, I can sleep anywhere,” Clare says.
“Amelia can sleep on the twin rollaway.”
Amelia squirms from my grasp and keeps jumping, ignoring my requests to stop. The kid is defiant. She gets that from me. “I need to get some food into her before she melts down.” We snacked on the flight but haven’t had a real meal in hours.
“Are you ready?” I ask Clare as she flips open her luggage. I’m not sure if she’s about to put her clothes away or change after the flight.
“Can you give me ten minutes?”
“I’ve seen you get ready in two.”
“That was mean,” she says, grabbing a dark-red dress. My trousers tighten. “Five.”
“Deal.” I’d gladly give her all ten minutes if I get to see her in a sexy dress for dinner. On her way to the bathroom, I grab her wrist, stopping her while I whisper into her ear, “Forget the panties.”
Her cheeks burn, matching the dress in her hand, before she slips into the bathroom.
I’m disappointed I don’t get to watch her strip down and change. I’d love to see what’s under her clothes, and eventually, I will.
I’d say we’re taking things slowly, but it’s more like a glacial pace. No, glaciers melt faster. Not that I’m saying Airplane Girl is an ice queen. She’s proven she’s anything but that with the fiery heart-stopping kiss on the airplane.
There’s a firm knock at the door, and I allow them inside with the twin mattress, showing them where to put the rollaway bed.
The minute they leave, Amelia climbs onto the new bed, deciding to toss the sheets by jumping. She tries to touch the ceiling but can’t reach it. So she jumps higher.
“Are you my little monkey?” I ask, grabbing Amelia and spinning her around.
She giggles and squeals with delight.
The bathroom door clicks, and Clare saunters out in her sexy red dress that has thin spaghetti straps and stops just below her knees. The top dips, giving me an ample view of her cleavage, and based on not seeing any bra straps, I’m going to hope she took my orders like a good girl and skipped the panties too.
I place Amelia on the bed, my attention stolen away by the nanny.
I never thought I’d be chasing a twenty-something girl when I hit forty.
Although, is chasing technically the right word?
We clash. We battle with nicknames and snarky insults. But chase?
I would chase her to the ends of the earth if she ever left Amelia and me, but I don’t plan on letting her go. Not now. Not ever.
One kiss, and I’m heavily addicted.
She’s my drug of choice.
Amelia begins bouncing on the bed again, the mattress groaning under her weight.
Clare grabs her heels from her bag. I’m glad she wore them. They look sexy as hell on her, and I don’t often see her dressed up. It’s usually not appropriate with being a nanny. She has to sit and entertain my kid all day. No one wants to sit on the floor in a fancy dress.
“Almost ready,” Clare says, offering me a shy smile.
Amelia starts jumping and squealing until the mattress wheezes and makes a strange popping sound.
“Amelia, that’s enough!” I snap, not wanting to call guest services for a replacement mattress because my kid broke the damn thing.
She plops down, her face scrunching as she rubs the mattress. “Ouch.”