A Second Chance For Love

“Father, catch!”I make a wild dive, over-exaggerating everything to humor my son. He throws the football, which only makes it a few feet before hitting the ground. I slide on the grass, making Edward laugh.“I won! I won!” Edward chants, jumping up and down.“Ouch!” Declan shouts from the patio. “Did you break something, old man?”With a dramatic roll on the grass that makes Edward laugh, even more, I grab the football, pop up, and throw it at my younger brother. He’s holding a beer in one hand and lazily reaches out with the other to catch it and misses. Luckily our sister, Maggie, is standing next to him and catches it before it crashes into the house.“Seriously, guys?” She laughs and tosses the ball to Edward. Shaking her head, she goes back to her fiancé, who’s holding their sleeping baby. Emma looks so small in Tommy’s arms, reminding me of when Edward was t

Elizabeth stands on the front porch, vivid blue eyes wide. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her face, and I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is. Everything about her is soft and delicate, but there’s a hardness to her I immediately recognize. Blinking, I sweep my hand up and over my hair, pushing it out of my face. I don’t know what I expected—Mrs. Doubtfire perhaps?—but I certainly didn’t expect a blonde bombshell. Though really, Declan got the final say in who Maggie interviewed after she narrowed it down to her top five choices. Still…this woman before me belongs on the pages of a magazine, not living in someone else’s house looking after strangers’ children. She freezes, looking around as if she has no idea what the fuck is going on, and then recovers fast. She blinks, puts on a smile, and comes up the porch steps. Elizabeth is the definition of a hot nanny, even in that stupid fuzzy sweater. Perky round tits bounce underneath it as she walks, and it

I sit back at my desk and pull out my mobile, logging onto the security company’s app and checking the cameras inside the house again. For the fifth time. This hour. It’s not that I don’t trust Elizabeth, it’s just…I don’t trust Elizabeth.She’s well aware of all the security measures I have in place at our house, and I haven’t given her the codes just yet. The only place she’s going today is the backyard with Edward, and there’s no need to arm the house just to be outside.The cameras aren’t at all nanny-cams, and show the front, back, and side door, as well as one looking down the steps with a view of the foyer. I can just barely see Elizabeth and Edward in the backyard. She’s chasing him around with her arms outstretched, dragging one leg as she stumbles through the grass.I can’t help but smile, knowing exactly what she’s doing. Edward is currently obsessed with zombies and

Edward comes running, throwing his arms around me. Coming home to my son is the best part of my day. I never realize how much I miss this kid until his skinny little arms are wrapped around my neck. Scooping him up with one hand, I stand, pretending to drop him.Edward lets out a dramatic yell and then laughs hysterically. I do it again and get the same reaction.“We made dinner!” he says to me excitedly, taking my hand as soon as his feet hit the floor. “Come eat!”“Give me one minute, and I’ll join you.”Elizabeth is bringing plates to the table and does a double-take when she sees me. I can’t get a good read on her, and I don’t get why everyday things seem surprising to her. Maybe it’s a sign this isn’t going to work out and I should let her go after the weekend is over, saying we’re just not a good match.Though that would be one hell of a lie. There are plenty of things I&

Goddammit. Bacon and eggs and blueberry muffins have never tasted so good. Elizabeth piles bacon and eggs on her plate fill a mug halfway with coffee and then tops it off the rest of the way with creamer. She dumps a spoonful of sugar in it as well, bringing her food over to the table. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and the loose strands that fall around her face are begging to be pushed back.She’s wearing black leggings and a tight black T-shirt, with a loose-fitting red-and-black flannel shirt over top. She’s effortlessly beautiful and I can’t find a single thing about her to complain about.“Blueberry muffins are cliché.” She reaches for one, setting it on her plate. “But it was the only kind I could make. You guys must like blueberries.”I smile as I finish chewing a piece of bacon. “Edward eats them like candy.”“That’s good. Better than eating candy like candy.” S