Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Though the words were everything I wanted to hear, everything I should’ve heard, I didn’t let myself take them and ignore all the other details.
“Clara.” I held on to the anchor I needed to hook me to the proverbial ocean floor. Without it, without her, I’d be washed away in the tides of us.
“She’ll be going to kindergarten in the spring.” I verbalized information he already knew. Information that I knew he obsessed over, questioned on a semi-daily basis.
“And my job will technically be done,” I continued carefully, picking my cuticles.
Beau stiffened. “This is not your job. And you’ll never be done with us.”
My body curled around the words like I was a cat, and they were a warm fire.
“But it is. My job.” I hoped he heard my sincerity in my tone. “Not that I consider it that. Not that I’ve ever really considered it that. I’m going to keep looking after Clara until spring. Hopefully long after then too. And hopefully not as her nanny.” I took a deep breath; it was hard to express even small wishes aloud. “But that’s the future. Right now, you deposit paychecks into my account weekly.” I looked at him. “You’re not going to stop doing that, are you?”
Beau frowned. I mapped the dark ring around his irises, something you couldn’t spot unless you were this close. “No, Hannah. I am not going to stop doing that.”
I clamped down on my bottom lip, hating that I was not too proud to tell him he didn’t have to pay me. Hating that I was too desperate to do it for free.
I had been counting on the money, every penny to get me through school, pay off debts, and set me up for my future.
Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have to pay for housing once I was in school. And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have to pay for long after. But Beau had a mortgage, utilities.
I nodded. “And I’m sleeping with you.” Again, pointing out the obvious.
“I’m not paying you for that,” he growled.
I smiled a little, despite the thorny conversation. “I know, if anyone should be paying anyone here, it should be me to you.”
Beau shook his head, the corner of his own mouth turning upward.
“So we’re clear, the money you pay me is only for nannying services, and … extracurriculars are free of charge?” I was teasing. Kind of.
Beau’s partial smile wilted. “I’ll admit this is not a situation I enjoy. Part of the reason why I didn’t bend you over and take you the second I saw that heart-shaped ass.”
His hand moved down to the ass he was describing, squeezing it before slipping close to the area I’d always considered off-limits. But the rush of wetness between my legs hinted it might not be entirely off-limits anymore.
I made a mental note to explore that at a later date.
Beau removed his hand, as though he could sense my need to have a practical discussion.
“That and the age gap,” he continued, posture tensing once again, eyes darkening.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not that much older than me, Beau.” I forced my tone to be light, dismissive, because I knew this was the biggest sticking point for him.
“Give or take twenty fucking years, Hannah,” he growled. “I’ve lived half a life more than you, I’m settled here. I’m a father. I’m a grumpy bastard.”
I smiled as he listed those qualities … in a very grumpy tone. Yet he still traced impossibly delicate lines on my skin. “I know all of these things.”
“I know you do.” He stroked my jaw. “And I know that you are a spectacular young woman I greedily want here, now, with me and Clara. When you’re just truly starting your adult life.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Christ, you’re only just divorced from that asshole.”
I could see Beau spiraling, feel the change in his body, the roughness in his tone. He was holding me tighter. Almost to the point of pain.
“I know all of those things about me too.” I spoke calmly, softly. “I also know I have never wanted a big life. I’ve never wanted to sow wild oats.” I grinned as I trailed my fingertip down his chest, marveling at the way it dipped into the rock-hard ridges of his abs.
Beau let out a roar when I slid my finger down the length of his cock. It stiffened under my touch, despite our earlier antics. He was almost a medical miracle.
“Plus, no oats I could sow would measure up to what you can show me, old man. With your years of experience.”
I waggled my brows, and Beau shook his head, pressing my body to his with a groan of pleasure.
“You, Hannah Morgan, will be the death of me.”
I lifted my cheek from his chest, gazing at him in faux concern. “Heart attacks don’t normally hit at this age, but you are old so…”