Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Just what I need: something else to deal with. I turn to answer the door, but I’m interrupted by a streak of pink.
“He’s back!” giggles Rebecca as she rushes by.
“Have at you!”
“Dad!” Rico shouts.
“Hang on!” I grumble, grabbing the door handle and pulling. I don’t know who I was expecting, but it’s certainly not the vision that greets me because the woman before me is absolutely stunning. My throat goes dry, and no words come out. Who is she? She’s got curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, and the face of an angel with sweet lips and a demure gaze. But that’s not it. It’s her body that has me salivating. Even though she’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the t-shirt hugs those huge, rounded breasts. The jeans strain at her wide hips, and my fingers itch to pull her close to me.
“Mr. Blythe?” she asks in an innocent tone. “Hi, I’m Regina Frank. Your new nanny?”
It hits me like a ton of bricks. Oh shit! The new nanny is coming today. Actually, that’s great news, seeing that I’m barely holding the fort down.
“Um yes,” I stammer, trying to hide my immediate arousal. “Come in. Sorry, I’m Ryan Blythe.”
She steps into the foyer, and I’m astonished at how small she is. Her head doesn’t even come to my shoulder and the scent of flowers drifts from her curly hair. I inhale subtly, hoping she doesn’t notice.
“DIE, FOUL BEAST!” I turn around just in time to see Ronnie smack Rico on top of the head with a toy sword I regret buying for his birthday. Rico yelps and turns to me, one hand shielding his face while the other holds Ronnie at bay. “Dad!” Rico yells.
“Welcome to the war zone,” I say wryly. “Boys! Enough!”
Wonderful. Regina just got here, and she’s probably going to want to quit within five minutes. The Blythe Bunch is already at its finest, displaying its most exasperating qualities.
“Get your brothers and sisters, Rico. Ronnie, put your toy away and come over here. Your new nanny has arrived and I want you to say hello,” I say in a vaguely threatening tone.
My kids aren’t scared of me at all.
“My lady,” Ronnie says. He turns and bows to his new nanny theatrically, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Of course, as he does, I’m forced to grab hold of Regina’s arm and yank to save her from the arc of silver-painted plastic. She stumbles a bit and lands against my hard frame. Her curves are plush against me, and I can feel that soft bottom against my hardness. Hopefully, she doesn’t realize that I’m already semi-erect.
She pushes away from me, blushing and smiling slightly. Oh shit, she did notice, but I try to play it off.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “As you can see, it’s hazardous to live here.”
She merely giggles and smiles the warmest smile I’ve ever seen on a woman. My ex, Sandy, never once looked at our kids with such affection, and she’s their mother. I feel my smile changing to match hers.
“It’s okay,” she says in a melodious tone. “No harm, no foul.”
None, except for the fact that I’m now harder than an iron pike. I grab a random book lying nearby and hold it in front of myself strategically. Meanwhile, Rico slips effortlessly into an older brother role, standing taller, his face growing serious.
“Come with me, Becky,” he says. “We’ll wash up for breakfast.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Rufus! Rachel!” he calls to my two youngest. “It’s time to get ready for breakfast!”
I stare up at him and then smile at Regina. “Rico is the only one Rebecca lets call her Becky,” I explain as the little troupe moves off. We’re left alone in the foyer, and the sudden quiet is startling.
I smile wryly at her.
“I hope you don’t quit based on what you’ve just seen.”
She laughs gently.
“Don’t worry Mr. Blythe. I’m made of tougher stuff than that.”
“Ryan, please,” I say. “No one calls me Mr. Blythe.”
She nods and says, “Ryan,” as if trying the name out on her lips. I can’t wait to hear her say my name more, but then we’re interrupted by my damned kids again.
“Stop it!” Rachel suddenly shouts.
“You stop it!” It’s the unmistakable voice of Rufus. “I’m going down first!”
I rush to the stairs, and notice the house is an utter mess. Of course, instead of going to the kitchen, somehow some of my kids have gotten upstairs. Rachel’s dangling on the outside of the second floor railing, pretending to be a monkey. Her scrawny legs kick and swing, and Regina catches her breath next to me.
“Oh my,” she says.
But then, Rachel swings herself over the railing and back onto the landing. Both Rach and Rufus come clambering down, still pushing one another.