“You’re a rock star,” Grady tells her before turning back to me. “I put an ad online and Willow answered it yesterday. Lucky me. She was looking for quick work and I was desperate to clean the place up, so here we are. Getting along like two strays on catnip.”
He gives me a brown-eyed wink.
Holy crap.
I hold in a laugh, both amused and nervous as hell at his cheesy innuendo.
Sure, I have to go along with this. Don’t have a choice. But we’re really rolling with this nanny thing?
Wow.
This is going to take some serious acting, and I sucked at theater in high school.
Fortunately, I did have a string of nannies growing up.
“Nice to meet you, Joyce, and it’s no big deal. I’ve dealt with lice before,” I say, still smiling. At least that’s no lie. “I’ll give them both a thorough checkup and get their things in the washer right away.”
Then I notice two sets of big brown eyes still glued to me, thickly lashed just like their father’s.
I wave a hand.
“Hi. Sawyer and Avery, right? Nice to meet you,” I say, unsure which girl is which.
The shorter one, by less than half an inch, smiles softly and waves a few fingers back.
The taller one frowns and gives me a slight bashful nod when Grady gently taps her shoulder, as if prompting her.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Oh, I can’t tell you what a relief this is, Willow,” Joyce gushes, her eyes sparkling, having also seen Grady’s reaction to touching his daughter. “I feel so much better leaving them now, knowing Grady doesn’t have to deal with this on his own. Good timing, too. I’ve got an appointment to get my car fumigated, just to be on the safe side.”
I nod, wondering again how this older woman who isn’t related fits in their life.
So does Grady before he says, “Thanks for picking them up, Joyce. I appreciate it. Have the car detailed at Berland’s and tell him to send me the bill.”
“Nonsense, it needed a deep cleaning anyway. They can have it for the next two days while I’m in Montana. Perfect fishing weather, and you know how antsy my daughter gets for company in Missoula.” With a friendly parting wave, she adds, “Hey, Willow, call me if you have any issues. I’m always glad to help and I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“I will,” I respond, even though it’s a lie.
I won’t be here that long and I’m definitely not a real nanny.
As soon as she leaves, Grady pivots back to the girls, dad-mode fully activated. “Go on, you munchkins. Upstairs, shower, put on clean clothes, and bring the ones you’re wearing straight down to the laundry room. Don’t touch anything on the way to your rooms.”
“Aw, Dad,” the shorter girl says, pouting for a second before she sighs and trails after her sister. “Fiiine.”
I look up at the ceiling and shake my head, but I wait until the girls are running up the stairs before I open my mouth.
“So we’ve found your weakness, huh? Cooties?” I have to rib him. The opportunity is too good to pass up.
He runs a stiff hand through his thick crop of hair, grumbling under his breath. Then his shoulders quiver again as he snatches his hand back, staring like he just touched a hot plate.
“Relax, dude. You can’t catch them that easily! Lice don’t have gliders and parachutes to get to your head.” Chuckling, I walk toward the staircase. “Also, they should take a bath, not a shower. You don’t want them to rinse out the medicated shampoo they’ve just been treated with.”
He watches me silently without so much as a nod.
I swallow, hoping I’m not being too presumptuous here.
I’ve only had lice once, but I’ve dealt with fleas, mites, and more pests than I could ever name on long trips overseas with Dad into the wild.
He touches my arm. It’s a light touch, a friendly touch, but for some unholy reason, it’s just like before.
That skin contact with his rough, thick hand makes my arm tingle.
Oh, God.
What is it about this dude?
I’m not the kinda girl who goes melty for any man.
Definitely not the kind who goes weak in the knees, fighting off swarms of butterflies.
“Willow, I’m sorry for that shitshow. I blanked. Couldn’t think up a better reason why you’re here, much less why you’d be staying in the guest room. Don’t think they noticed that part. We’ll have to explain it later.”
I shrug like it’s nothing, trying not to rub my arm as I pull away.
“Forget it. You’re helping me, and it’s only fair I help you until Bruce and I make our great escape.” The thudding door has me heading for the stairs again. “I’d better get up there before they jump in the shower.”
If we’re going with this nanny story, I’d better play the part.
The upstairs looks like it’s been refurbished as well. Hardwood floors gleam with varnish, and all of the trim wood glows papery white, just like downstairs. The doors are a dark grey, which pops nicely with the white trim and soft grey walls.
I spot two doors, both closed. A purple heart hangs on one with Sawyer painted on it, and there’s a pink one on the door across the hall with Avery.
I knock on Avery’s door first, and after I’m given permission, I open it.
“Hey there. Just came up to let you know a bath would be better than a shower. You don’t want to wash out the shampoo the hairdresser used.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Her eyes flit around nervously before looking back at me. “So...you’re really going to be our nanny? Like a live-in one?”
“Looks that way,” I say, giving her a wink. Then I pull the door shut and cross the hall.
Sawyer asks the same question, a little more boldly, and I give her the what and why.
Once they’re both taking turns in the bath, I strip their beds.
It’s doubtful they had lice before camp, but I might as well take every precaution for Grady’s sake.
The whole bug thing wigs him out, and he’s been too good to me.
Thankfully, the girls leave their clothes outside of their bathroom door, just like I’d asked. I bundle the clothes up with the bedding and carry it down to the laundry room to stuff it in the washer.
Grady’s nowhere in sight, probably not in the house.
I rummage around and find a few large trash bags in the pantry, then take them to the front porch, where I dump the contents of the girls’ duffel bags into separate bags before stuffing everything into a couple more huge trash bags. Once they’re all tied off, I leave the contaminated stuff on the porch for later, after the washer and dryer are freed up.
The girls are out of the tubs and dressed when I return upstairs with the stacks of fresh clothes from the living room. They put everything away like the angels they seem to be, and then help me gather new bedding.
Usually, when chores are involved, it doesn’t take long to find out how well behaved kids really are.
So far, I’m impressed.
Grady and his helpers have done their job right with these girls.
The twins are both workers, eager to help and friendly, even if they might still be a little weirded out by my presence.
“Aunt Faye had us change the bedding before she left,” Sawyer says, scratching her neck. “You’re sure you wanna tackle this stuff again?”