Release Date: June 19, 2020
She’s the nanny.
Love’s not an option . . . right?
Fresh out of college and ready to take on the world, Olivia Stuart can’t wait to step into her first classroom. But when her dreams of becoming a teacher fall flat, she accepts a job as a nanny. It’s good practice, after all. If she can’t handle one kid, how can she possibly deal with a classroom full of them?
Little does she know that this one kid—and his father—will turn her life upside down.
After years of misery, Jackson Healey was almost relieved when his wife abandoned him six months ago. But now he’s a single dad to their heartbroken five-year-old, and he’s having a hard time dealing with his son’s violent tantrums. Olivia’s the latest in a long string of nannies, but Jackson’s hopeful that her teaching degree and sweet patience will help his son overcome his pain.
The last thing he expects is to fall in love.
Jackson knows he has to keep his distance for this arrangement to work.
Now if only he can convince his heart.
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
And I’d kept my distance . . . until tonight.
With a groan, I bury my head in my hands. We almost kissed tonight. Maybe it would have led to more. Maybe it wouldn’t have. The fact is . . . it can’t. For one thing, I’m still married. But most importantly, Ryder has to come first. Always. I can’t complicate the situation by falling for his nanny.
It can’t happen.
I won’t let it.
Someone gently knocks on my door, and I know it’s her.
Olivia opens the door slightly. “I . . . umm . . . just wanted to let you know he’s asleep.”
“Just a bad dream.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thank you for checking on him. And for . . . well, for everything.”
With a nod, she steps inside and closes the door behind her. I remain silent as she sits down in a chair. Fear grips me as I brace myself, waiting for her to say she’s reconsidered, and that her suitcase is packed. It would serve me right, but it would also destroy my son.
“Jackson, I think we need to talk.” Her voice shakes slightly—the only indication that she’s nervous. “If this is going to work, I think we need to establish some . . . limits.”
She’s so brave, drawing her own lines in the sand.
“Olivia, I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t. Nothing happened.”
“But it could’ve. And it can’t.”
“You’re right, of course. Do you think . . . maybe we were just caught up in the moment? You’ve had such an emotionally draining day. We both have.”
It would be easy to blame my lapse of judgment on this dreadful day. But does she really believe that? Or is she trying to convince herself—and me—that we hadn’t felt a thing?
“Is that what you think?” I ask.
Olivia’s face flickers with emotion before she settles her gaze on her hands in her lap.
Maybe. The word hangs in the air, just waiting for me to grab it and hold on for dear life. To agree that maybe it didn’t mean anything. That maybe we were just overwhelmed and looking for any small amount of comfort we could find.
Maybe is a gift. A life raft. A chance to save my son from drowning.
I take it.
“Maybe so,” I whisper.
Does she believe me? I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she stays.
“I want to stay,” she says, reading my mind.
“Good. Because we want you to stay.”
She nods and slowly rises from her chair.
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