He gestured between them. “This… we couldn’t… I mean, this would be strictly a business arrangement. Annie is very observant for a seven-year-old. She doesn’t miss anything. And her mother and I have an agreement not to introduce her to anyone we’re seeing unless it’s serious.”
“No telling the kid I banged her dad. Gotcha.”
“Jo,” he warned.
“Kidding. I’m kidding. We’re both adults. I’m sure we can keep it professional when Annie is around.”
“Not just when she’s around. She’s always going on about—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. If she even suspected… It would be too confusing for her. I won’t hurt my kid like that.”
Jo’s chest ached. He was standing there telling her they couldn’t be together again, not even a quickie after hisdaughter went to bed, and somehow she’d never wanted a man more.What is wrong with me?
She straightened her spine, determined to seem as professional as she could without pants on. “Understood. No confusing Annie. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good you won’t even know what to do with me.”
Lust flickered across his face and Jo had a feeling he was picturingexactlywhat he’d do with her. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Three days—plus travel days—all expenses paid, four thousand dollars cash, and we keep our hands to ourselves.”
She stuck out her hand to shake his but he stared at it, arching an eyebrow at her. She pulled the hand away. “Right. Hands to ourselves. You’ve got a deal, Derek von Silver Fox.”
He frowned. “My last name’s Owens.”
“I’m going to be such a good nanny, you’re never going to want to let me go,” she said as she backed out of the kitchen. He blinked back the startled expression on his face, the red in his cheeks deepening again, but she spun away before she did something stupid like kiss him and cost herself the job she’d just talked herself into. She called over her shoulder as she darted down the hall towards her bedroom. “Give me five minutes to pack.”
“You have three,” he called after her. “And put on some pants!”
Chapter 4
“Ican’t believe Midnight Storm flies commercial,” Jo said as she stepped out of the town car Derek had hired. It was the swanky kind with little bottles of water in the back and a driver who called herma’am.
They’d had just enough time to stop by Derek’s hotel to grab his bags before they headed to the airport. For most of the drive, Derek was focused on his phone, no doubt texting and emailing with other important people who wore dress pants on the weekend and didn’t think twice about dropping four grand on a nanny for a few days.
Jo didn’t have fancy people to text, but she did shoot off a quick message to her group chat with the girls to let them know she’d be out of town. No one replied immediately, and she’d tucked the phone back in her purse as the car pulled up to the airport, determined not to let it get her down. Her friends were all off living their best lives, shacked up with gorgeousmen who worshipped the ground they walked on, and she was happy for them. Over the freaking moon. But sometimes she missed the days when Kyla and Molly still shared her small apartment with her, and they’d order a pizza and have too much cheap wine and commiserate about their lackluster love lives. Now it was only Jo’s love life that was lackluster, the night before notwithstanding.
That hadn’t been lacking in luster at all.
“They haven’t had a hit in ten years. Were you expecting a private jet?” Derek retrieved their bags and tipped the driver. Settling his hand on her lower back, he guided her into the terminal. Heat bloomed beneath his palm at the memory of the feel of his hand on other parts of her anatomy.
No. Be professional.
“It must be wild to be the person who gets seated next to a member of the band. There you are, flying off to your accounting conference or whatever, and here comes Beckett freakin’ Hayes and, oh look, it’s Nico Valente. Rockstars everywhere you turn.”
“Accounting conference?”
“Or whatever.”
He set their bags down at their feet with a beleaguered sigh. “They’re normal people, Jo.”
“Oh,Iknow that. Once you’ve seen Zach house a cheeseburger, any illusion that those guys are anything but mere mortals is gone. You, on the other hand,” she said, her eyes trailing over his biceps and chest. Thankfully he was too busy scanning the terminal to notice her teeny-tiny temporarylapse in professionalism. “You get on your phone with a little texty-text and suddenly a sold-out flight has two extra seats. Talk about power.”
“That’s not power. That’s just money.”
“Only someone who’s never had to worry about money doesn’t realize they’re the same thing.”
He stopped his perusal of the other travelers to turn his full attention to her, his brow furrowed, lips pulled down at the corners. He looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was interrupted by the high-pitched shriek of a seven-year-old girl from across the terminal. “Daddy!”
The child barreled across the crowded space, weaving in between travelers, two blonde braids bouncing down her back as she ran. She launched herself into Derek’s waiting arms, wrapping herself around him like a spider monkey. She only came up to the middle of his torso, and she pressed her cheek against the starchy fabric of his button-down.
“Daddy, I’m going with you to the gold beach!”
Derek smoothed one hand over her head and held her close with the other, affection crinkling his eyes at the corners. “The town is called Playa de Oro, peanut, but I don’t think there’s actually any gold on the beach.”